The Write Word with Wareeze

The middle of the book

Hello again friends and readers,

If this is your first time to read a Soul Mate Publishing blog post, allow me to introduce myself. I write historical romance novels with a dash of suspense under my pen name, Wareeze Woodson. Seven of my books are published by Soul Mate and have been released on Amazon. Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman, An Enduring Love, A Lady’s Vanishing Choices, Captured by the Viscount, The Earl’s Scandalous Wager along with a historical romance western: Bittersweep. The title of my latest release is The Earl, Her Reluctant Guardian, also available on Amazon.

I have a self-published one as well. After She Became a Lady. Self-publishing is not for me, however.

Today I would like to discuss the middle of the book. There must be a starting point, written and presented plus the all satisfying ending. Start with an idea for the book and write the beginning scene. Is it strong enough to draw the reader into the story? The author must know the ending as well. Now for the middle. The author must not allow the story to sag in the middle with uninteresting information, no action, and no emotion.

The reader has been introduced to the heroine, the hero, and supporting characters. Perhaps the villain as well. At this point in the story, the beginning, perhaps not the villain yet.

Now we come to the middle. There are two story lines in each of my books, The love story…most important part, and the mystery. To handle the situation properly, the author must present clues throughout the book. This holds true to the beginning. There should be a whiff of romance.

Write the beginning. Jot down the end (happy-ever-after) in my book.

Now for the rest. The author has written the first scene. Write the next scene. Very important, what had to happen to arrive at that scene? Keep moving forward with your eye on the moment the reader closes the book. What must happen to arrive at that happy ending moment? Each movement forward must aimed for that ending with clues sprinkled throughout the manuscript to keep things happening until the end. Actions followed by reactions. Do not leave out the important emotional impact of the story as well.

For example, in my work in progress (Valerie) for now, the reader meets the heroine. Clues letting the reader know something is about the happen between Valerie and Lord Alton. The love story begins.

Valerie:

Valerie quaked in her slippers. She wanted to run, to leave this curst burden far behind but instead she twisted the handle and pushed into the room. Valerie barely observed the cheerful fire in the fireplace. The coziness of the chamber did nothing to warm her chilled hands or her frozen heart. Her stomach sank to her toes. The room was empty. He wasn’t coming. Now, what could she do?

At that very moment, the door opened, and a tall gentleman, with broad shoulders and narrow hips strode into the parlor with a decisive stride. Her entire attention was captured by the handsome face, with a strong jawline denoting an inflexible will, or so she imagined. His raven dark hair brushed the collar of his cut away coat. His eyes should have been a warm brown, but the cold, piercing quality dissuaded her of such a conjecture. A gentleman of means no doubt, noted by his confident stance and apparel, stood before her studying her from the top of her head to her toes. She could tell nothing by his blank expression.

The beginning of a love story you say, absurd. Still, she does view much to admire about the man. His handsome face as well as his well-formed frame. First clue for romance and this is only the beginning.

The mystery element follows. Valerie:

“The harridan smiled at me with a smirk on her face when father made his wishes known. Lady Alton thinks she has covered every possible way to force her vengeance on me.” John’s laughter was hollow with bitterness. “She’ll soon be the dowager countess. She thinks I will marry her to meet the requirement.” John elevated his chin a full, stubborn inch. “My father thought he knew me well and this is his last desperate attempt to control me even beyond the grave.”

The root of the mystery explained. Whatever happens next? In the middle? Well not entirely in the middle. Lord Alton and Valerie must be together. Not miles and miles apart for a romance to flourish.

Valerie:

He didn’t try to soften his tone for the chit holding onto the door. She deserved his wrath peeking at him as if he were a dangerous villain. “I wish to speak to Lady Alton at once.” Lady Alton indeed. She was nothing without him, a mere miss, no lady at all. He held back a vulgar snort at the thought. “I am Lord Alton, her husband. Inform her of my arrival.”

The chit gasped and after a second shut the panel in his face. Running footsteps receded into the interior of the house. Affronted and stunned at such a reception, he seethed with resentment. Valerie had better understand her position-his wife, his to direct, his to protect as well. Protect, hmm. He grimaced at that thought. He didn’t intend to protect her from himself.

The fire begins as a flicker before bursting into flame. Least the middle sags, there is a ghost? Or is there? Unexpected and unwelcome guests arrive at Thornton Court. A murder, real and disturbing occurs. The plot thickens. Do Valerie and John grow closer as the mystery deepens or farther apart? What happens and keeps happening to reach that happy ending? Read more about Valerie and Lord Alton on my website as the story progresses.

I hope this has been a bit helpful when you as the author get stuck in the middle. Keep writing and at the end of the scene ask yourself what must happen to move toward the end. What happened to arrive at this scene is always a helpful question in retrospect? Mull it over and keep writing.

Farewell until we meet again. Thank you for sharing you time with me and reading my post.

Respectfully,

Wareeze Woodson

Website: www.wareezewoodson.com

Face book: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Wareeze-Woodson/523727757689755

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/wareeze

Twitter: http://twitter.com/wareeze

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Literary Holidays To Connect Readers and Authors

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Gwendolyn the time travelling hedgehog

I asked last blog about what readers would like to read. The offer still stands – comment with some story prompts or suggest a character name. Or a topic- the past, the future, the present. Or even ask about my writing, books etc.

In honour of Susan Berger commenting (check out her time travel books at https://www.amazon.com/stores/Susan-B.-James/author/B00I4DG022?)  I created the following story. It is set in the world of Druid’s Portal and fits neatly into the next book in the series – Boudicca. In this part the young Druid Phelan used the Arwen Pendant in an ill-fated trip that plunges himself, his family, and the future in great danger.

Gwendolyn the time travelling hedgehog

The small prickly brown creature snuffled along the forest path, looking for more of the tasty grubs that lived only under the oak trees. It had no concept of oak but a scent, no concept of searching except for a gnawing hunger in its belly. Instinct drove her for she was bearing young. A new litter to be born in the spring when the land warmed and leaves were fresh and juicy. She snapped up a grasshopper and munched it, snorting happily as she followed the path deeper into the forest.

Vibrations up ahead, regular. She paused, backing slowly into the grass. It could be anything, but it sounded like one of the tall two-legged creatures. She shrank back further, remembering the loss of her mate to one of them. She remained still, only her bright brown eyes flicking indicated her fear.

The noise stopped and she was lifted into the air.

“I won’t hurt you, hedgepig,” a noise boomed. She curled around herself, seeking to protect her babies from harm. The man was dressed in a brown robe, the hem stained with mud. A few oak leaves and twigs were matted in his hair. Scars of battle ran down his damaged face, but his brown eyes – so like hers – looked at her kindly.

“I have a task tonight, hedgepig.” He carried her along the path, his voice soft in song. A soothing chant that reminded her of the forest, of the wind in the grass.

“I’ll take you to the clearing, I know your kind are always rootling around oak trees for beetles and such. It will save you a walk in the rain.”

Her nose twitched as the first drops fell, but he covered her with a sleeve, and she nestled into him. He smelled of the forest, of soil rich with tasty bugs, of leaves that rotted into mulch, of all the growing things that had no names.

The man reached a clearing, for she could see the sky, the dawn light breaking. He put her down and dug carefully around at a tree root. She snuffled close by, looking out for worms. He dug a shiny thing from the soil, sitting down with it in his lap. She looked at him, nose twitching.

A wind rose up in the glade as the man’s voice raised in a chant. She dug her claws into the ground, but a darkness fell around them, darkness with the light of stars within. A gnawing and gnashing of teeth surrounded her. There was danger here. She shrank into herself, rolling into a ball. The man cried out and she saw him no more.

A grey mist surrounded her, gradually warming into sunshine. Birds called, and there was a very good smell in the air. Unfamiliar, but it tasted of honey and of berries warmed in the sun.

“What do we have here?” A soft voice, much softer than the man. Like a breeze in the forest, the softness of a moth landing on a flower.

“An innocent one drawn into my domain by chance.” The Goddess Arwen bent to pick her up, and she gazed into the silver glow of a goddess. The goddess of the Druids, worshipped by the man of the forest. The protector of the creatures that lived there.

A soft hand stroked her nose.

Concepts blazed within her, words appeared in her mind, chased by thoughts she had never had. The past and her lost mate all rolled into one emotion of pain and then vanished as the gentle hand soothed her. The future opened up, a future of black roads and the death of her kind. So many. She sniffed and gazed at the goddess with sadness in her heart.

“I know little one. But if you choose, one small creature such as yourself can help.”

“Help?” A strange new idea.

“Yes. But you need a name. “Gwendolyn the White.”

“But I am not white, I am brown like all my kind,” she whispered.

“Will you help your kindred far into the future?” Arwen asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you are Gwendolyn the White, saviour of the small creatures due to be lost before their time.”

A silver mist surrounded her, soaking into her quills, her feet, and inside, till she felt her babies squirm and wriggle. They too were part of this new magic. She opened her eyes and understood many things.

“I will go now, I have a job to do.”

Arwen nodded, smiling. “It soothes my heart that such blessings are still within my power. By such actions may my deeds be forgiven.” She faded into the silver mist, leaving a small dark burrow behind.

Gwendolyn sniffed it hesitantly. The dark hole smell of asphalt, of concrete, and the air was rank with car fumes. Many things had changed at the other end of this burrow.

A small squeak alerted her, and she dived into the burrow. Darkness carried her forward, the stars were the only light. But she had not lost any of her senses, and she navigated the time portal as easily as if it were a forest path bright with moonlight.

“Come,” she grunted. A small family of hedgehogs clustered by the road, noses whiffling as the cars sped past. There would be no chance for them if they crossed. They gazed at her as she glowed white, her eyes pearly with wisdom.

As they followed her into the burrow, she thought about home and the grubs under the oak trees.

Ahead was the oak tree of home. She nosed the place where the druid had been sitting, but she knew he was gone into that place of danger. She glanced up at the night sky and wished him well.

Around her grunted the new family, already rootling up grubs and worms for the babies.

She snorted happily at them and returned to the burrow.

There were many more creatures that needed her help.

About Cindy

I write in a few different genres including romance, science fiction and fantasy. My SMP series Druid’s Portal is a time travel action adventure romance series set in Roman Britain. The third exciting novel in the series is now in the editing stage – Boudicca. Roman Britain at its most bloody, and yet love will be found in the darkest and most dangerous of times. Hit me up if you would like to get a copy before publication and review it, or review copies of the first two in the series.

Check out my books and short story collections on Amazon. Many are free, and all of them are page turners guaranteed to help you escape the everyday.

Contact Cindy on

Website: https://www.cindytomamichel.com/  

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CindyTomamichelAuthor/

Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/CindyTomamichel

Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/cindytomamichel

Newsletter: https://tinyurl.com/AdventureNews

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/cindy-tomamichel

Substack blog Travels in Time: https://substack.com/@cindytomamichel

Time travel author? Be interviewed by filling out this form:  https://forms.gle/zMkQSgYjJNhA4Y258

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Getting My Extrovert On!

I really excited to get out of my writing cave this spring and get a chance to connect with readers and authors in person. I’m thrilled to have three events planned in the up-coming months, two in the Chicago area in April and one in Portland on May 31st.

A romance extravaganza is happening April 12th through April 14th at Embassy Suites by Hilton Chicago Lombard Oak Brook. Even if you have a limited book budget, Cuffed in Chicago is sure to be lots of fun with a canvas swag bag for authors to sign, scavenger hunts and goodies available during the signing, and a special VIP cocktail party in the evening. Complete a weekend of fun by snagging breakfast with your favorite authors Sunday morning. I’m really looking forward to a great chance to connect with readers, and hope to see lots of Chicago folks there!

The following weekend, I’ll still be in the Windy City, this time for a writer’s conference. I’m looking forward to connecting with other authors and brushing up on some of my craft and business skills with the engaging workshops at the Spring Fling Writers Conference. The weekend culminates with a totally free bookfair host by Loves Sweet Arrow, and featuring romance greats Beverly Jenkins and Kate Clayborn. Join us on Saturday April 20th from 3 to 5 p.m. at the Renaissance Chicago O’Hare. I’ll be signing along with a ton of other romance authors, and would love to see you there!

While I’m really excited planning my Midwest adventure, I’m also thrilled to be a part of a reader event closer to home. This will be my first Oregon event since the pandemic, so I’m really thrilled to be a part of it. On Friday May 31st, I’ll be a Hidden Gem at the Hot & Steamy in Portland cocktail party, at the Hilton Portland Downtown. From 6pm – 9pm there is a reader/author meet and greet and book signing, followed by even more authors signing on Saturday. I hope lots of Pacific Northwest peeps can make it!

I love in-person events, and would love to do even more of them, especially if I can drive to them. Have you ever been to an in-person author event? What did you like about it? Do you have any you recommend I attend?


Jaycee Jarvis has been an avid romance reader since devouring all the Sweet Dreams books her middle school library had to offer. Also a fantasy fan from an early age, she often wished those wondrous stories had just a bit more kissing. Now she writes stories with a romantic heart set against a magical backdrop, creating the kind of book she most likes to read.

When not lost in worlds of her own creation, she resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three children and a menagerie of pets.

Jaycee is a Golden Heart® finalist and author of the Hands of Destin series. The award winning first book in that series, Taxing Courtship, released in June 2018. The final book in that series, Crowning Courtship, came out in May 2021.

Learn more about her around the web:

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The Grit of the Irish:

The Grit of the Irish:

My hubby and I celebrated St. Patrick’s Day in grand style. Well, the day before I rode in the St. Joseph Italian Parade, but I always show my Irish on March 17.  I don’t care that St. Patrick was actually born in England; he became one of us. Through the years, I’ve created many Irish characters. Grainne O’Malley, a real Irish pirate woman, ruled the seas in Buccaneer Beauty. Grainne, or Grace, was a real pirate. I loved her strength and determination. She manipulated the British as well as rival clans. She was the indispensable partner to two chieftains who controlled her own fleets. Reputedly, she commandeered her ships until the age of seventy-seven.

In From Ice Wagon to Club House and The Progeny, the Mooney family forged their way in their adopted homeland but they often found refuge in the motherland in times of trouble. Jude Mooney, the son of immigrants, drives an ice wagon in New Orleans, works in a Storyville brothel, and then takes ship to Ireland to escape the wrath of his pious parents. Seeking solace with his family, he fights in WWI and then in the Easter Uprising. Eventually, he makes his way home to New Orleans with his sultry Irish wife, becomes a bootlegger, and then a horse trainer. He achieves success but has to send his beloved sons away when they are caught in a web of betrayal and murder. In The Progeny, Jude’s sons fight against Nazis and spy for the allies but not before fighting in the Irish quest for unity. 

This March 17, the hubby and I attended a concert by an Irish singer named Danny O’Flaherty. Danny is a native Irishman who came to this country as a young man. He frequently leads trips back to his homeland. We sang songs of rebellion, love, and legend with others celebrating the saint and the people he converted. Later that night, we attended mass while Fr. Murphy, an Irish native of Chicago, proudly boasted of his heritage. We Irish are a determined and proud group.

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Write freely, edit ruthlessly to enhance your gem. Part 2.

Anyone else increase their reading or writing in the darker days of winter? I hope last month’s post provided a few insights if you write. But, polishing diamonds requires more than swiping it with a cloth. Your manuscript deserves the same exacting treatment. I keep a running list of junk words. Weak verbs, overused descriptors, and unnecessary adverbs get scrubbed in this tedious, time consuming step. If you’d like a copy of my 60+ junk words list, contact me via my website and I’ll email it. http://www.sallybrandle.com/  Similar to the photo, I have a second screen open to utilize an online thesaurus. For an embarrassing example, paring my overuse of ‘was’ from 214 times to 138 necessitated sourcing verbs I typically don’t type. Purchasing Damon Suede’s “Activate – a thesaurus of actions & tactics for dynamic genre fiction” helped immensely.

Photo by Judy Sengsone on Pexels.com

The final step before a stone is set or a book is ready to publish requires close inspection. A diamond evaluation includes cut, clarity, color, and carat. Fiction writers are judged on emotion, entertainment, and engagement. I do the above steps, read the chapters out of sequence to make further corrections, do a final read through, and then send it to my editor. My personal challenge is relaying the emotion or motivation aspect driving my characters—whom I know really, really well. Sharon, my editor, is the magician who ascertains where I need to expand my explanations so readers feel the same connection. More editing commences during a back and forth process until both of us are happy with the final version. I want my book to be a faceted gem—a story satisfying a reader’s investment of money and their precious time.

To all who celebrate St. Patrick’s Day I give you Mom’s favorite Irish Blessing:

May God grant you always 

A sunbeam to warm you.   

A moonbeam to charm you,  

A sheltering angel so nothing can harm you,    

Laughter to cheer you, 

Faithful friends near you - 

And whenever you pray,

Heaven to hear you.

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Sharing a Cup of Warmth

Throughout my childhood, I watched with amazement as my mother quickly and effortlessly assembled the simplest ingredients to create stracciatella (strah-chuh-teh-luh), a soup that would heal whatever ailed me.

Often referred to as “Italy’s version of egg drop soup,” it has been a favorite go-to dish for lunch or dinner for generations of Italians. It also serves as a delicious and nutritious breakfast, especially when afflicted with a sore throat or persistent cough.

A staple during the Depression and World War II years in Italy, its recipe originated in Rome hundreds of years ago. Martino da Como recorded a spicier version of the recipe in his Libro de Arte Coquinaria (The Art of Cooking) in the 15th century.

The word is derived from “stracci” (STRAH-chee), which means rags in Italian. Eggs, cheese, and flavorings are whisked into a meat broth (chicken or beef) to form tiny clouds.

Ingredients

2 cups chicken broth

2 large eggs

2 ounces grated cheese *

2 tablespoons parsley

Salt and pepper (to taste)

*Use Parmigiano, Parmigiano-Reggiano, or Pecorino Romano

Directions

Bring the chicken broth to a boil and then reduce the heat to a simmer.

Whisk together the eggs, cheese, and parsley in a separate bowl.

Slowly pour the egg mixture into the broth.

Stir gently until the eggs form into rags, about one to two minutes.

Season with salt and pepper and serve immediately.

Servings: 2

Where to find Joanne Guidoccio…

Website | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Facebook | LinkedIn | Amazon

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The Write Word with Wareeze

More on Scene Setting

The discussion of scene setting is important. Scene setting carries the book forward and if poorly written discourages reading instead of throwing the book against the wall. I hope I haven’t done that this morning.

If this is your first time to read a Soul Mate Publishing blog post, allow me to introduce myself. I write historical romance novels with a dash of suspense under my pen name, Wareeze Woodson. Seven of my books are published by Soul Mate and have been released on Amazon. Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman, An Enduring Love, A Lady’s Vanishing Choices, Captured by the Viscount, The Earl’s Scandalous Wager along with a historical romance western: Bittersweep. The title of my latest release is The Earl, Her Reluctant Guardian, also available on Amazon.

 I have a self-published one as well. After She Became a Lady. Self-publishing is not for me, however.

Although I personally love the medieval period, I write period romance, Regency at present. The elaborate ball gowns of silks and satins, trimmed with lace, over gowns sprigged with spangles all over jeweled or embroidery along with more demure morning dresses, worn with gloves and fashionable head gear, bring the past to life. Think of the music, the theater, the house parties and all the other activities of the Ton to stave off boredom. Even the on-dits were amusing and if the rumor mill seized a fancy tidbit, society waited with bated breath for the next crumb to fall.

Social norms dictated strict codes of behavior many would scoff at today. The slightest slip and a young lady may the ruin for life—if her misdeed became common knowledge. I love to escape into another era to witness the mannerisms, the apparel, the modes of transportation, and even the rather stuffy rules a young lady must adopt. Not so the gentleman—hardly fair, but oh well. That alone is all the more reason to merely visit the past without fully embracing a life without electricity.

Discussing scene settings in a former blog led me to depict a brief scene as an example. Time and place—early nineteenth century England, in the middle of the day The main characters stood inside the threadbare parlor having a devastating conversation.

Now, how does the heroine view the setting? From the pages of my work in progress (Valerie at the moment) This is a scene at Rosewood cottage;. The shabby carpet, the faded furniture and the dimly lit interior is not a favorable place for a good impression, but Lord Alton had invited himself inside

.

As his cold ultimatum reverberated around her, Valerie stood perfectly still, shocked, and hardly able to catch her breath. It took a moment to find her voice. “You are saying you changed your mind. Why?“

After a long appraising look, he casually replied, “Because it suits me. You are uncomplicated and pleasant to look upon. I need a wife in my immediate vicinity. In my home, not in this far-flung cottage.”

Why had she been such a fool as to write to him. This confrontation need never have happened if she had let well enough alone. Disturbed, her voice sharpened, and despair roiled her stomach.  “No, No. I can’t leave Rosewood cottage.”

I hope this brief glimpse into the pages of Valerie will intrigue the reader enough to want to read the entire book. Thank you again for taking the time to read my posting. For more information about my writing, please visit my website and other social media channels.

Respectfully,

Wareeze Woodson

Website: www.wareezewoodson.com

Face book: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Wareeze-woodson/52372775689755

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/wareeze

twitter: https://twitter.com/@wareeze

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The Power of Panels and Excepts: Reminders from the Love Y’all Book Festival 2024

By Jeanine Englert

It’s easy to forget the things that really matter to readers. Sure, TikTok, Facebook, X, and Instagram are great but there is nothing greater than showing readers who you are and reading your own words to them. I was reminded of this over the Valentine’s Day weekend at the Love Y’all book fest in Decatur, GA. As I attended author panels on a variety of topics and even listened to excerpts being read on one of those panels, I realized how important it is to talk about our books, our inspiration for our stories, and to read the words that we wrote about our characters in the worlds we built in our minds to readers.

I loved being able to hear what had inspired authors to write the stories they did, their perspectives of their characters and how they fashioned them, and to hear the dialogue of their characters read in their own voice where they originated. It’s easy to get lost in the realm of social media without an oar or rudder. More than once, I have been lost, overwhelmed, and uncertain about how to share my books with the world and how to discover new authors and books I want to read. I am sure you have too.

But being at the Love Y’all Book Festival, reminded me that the best and most impressive way to share your books to your readers and even people that haven’t found your books yet, is to show up, be present, and to dare share what you’ve created in person. As an introvert, the idea is daunting and overwhelming for me, but I know it is important. So, my pledge for 2024 is to dare to share that part of myself with more readers, and to receive whatever the universe has in store for me for my writing, for my books, and my future as an author.

Have you been to any amazing book festivals lately? Or have you had any epiphanies about what’s important to you as a writer or a reader? What do you value most? What do you value least? What do you think is undervalued? I would love to know what moves you as a reader and a writer, and what goals you have for 2024.

Don’t be shy, drop a comment below!

Jeanine Englert’s love affair with mysteries and romance began with Nancy Drew, Murder She Wrote, and her Grandmother’s bookshelves full of romance novels. She is a VIVIAN® and Golden Heart® Finalist as well as a Silver Falchion, Maggie, and Daphne du Maurier Award Winner in historical romance and mystery.

Her Scottish Highland historical and historical romantic suspense novels revolve around characters seeking self-acceptance and redemption. When she isn’t wrangling with her characters on the page, she can be found trying to convince her husband to watch her latest Masterpiece or BBC show obsession. She loves to talk about books, writing, her beloved rescue pups, as well as mysteries and romance with other readers. Visit her website at www.jeaninewrites.com.

Social Media Links –

FB: http://www.facebook.com/JeanineWrites

Website: https://www.jeaninewrites.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46222432-lovely-digits

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jeanine-englert?list=abouthttps://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46222432-lovely-digits

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And the wheels go round and round

Back in a prior century I worked at Warner Bros for 2 ½ years. While the job itself didn’t suit me, the people did. One of my best friends is someone I met during my time there. She got me into the rescue group I am still with, and we meet for lunch every month or so.

I stayed in touch with her. Others, those I was fond of, I did not. Yet this entertainment industry is a small town for such a big city, and I have intersected with many people at my jobs over the years, encountering them where I least expect it.

We have been in a period of turmoil at my job, with our new parent company imposing a hiring freeze. As we lost people, we could not replace them. And we have lost several people across all job levels, leaving the department hard pressed to get basic tasks, never mind bold initiatives, accomplished.

While we couldn’t hire permanent staff, we were able to bring on consultants. That is where things came full circle in regards to a person who I was friends with at Warner Bros. but hadn’t spoken to since I left. She had stayed in the industry, and our paths did that strange twisting path that so many in this business seem to. When her company merged with their own parent company, she found herself laid off.

Enter the turning wheel. The consultant we brought in to manage one of our high-level workflow initiatives recommended we bring in one of her colleagues – the same person I’d worked with at Warner Bros. Though the years had passed, we discovered that we were still basically the same people (hopefully older and wiser) and the mutual friendship we had for each other still existed today. Nowe that latent friendship is active, and we are starting to get together regularly.

It would be a natural assumption to think that in a city as huge as Los Angeles friends – and friendships – can easily get lost. And it is true. I have friends who have been in my life for various reasons, and once that fades, we don’t encounter each other, even if we live a handful of blocks apart. It’s such a massive place that people can just move on, and forge new connections. But I think a true bond is one that can stand the test of time, like this one did, and when you encounter that person again it’s like no time has passed.

I hope you have people in your life like that. I’m grateful for the ones in mine.

Claire Davon

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