Hope, so they say, springs eternal. It’s the sort of saying you think of when March rolls around and it’s still snowing, but the forsythia is blooming. “I hope spring will come,” you muse, as you shiver by the window. The words hope and spring sort of join naturally, like peanut butter and jelly. I believe myself to be a hopeful person. Naturally I’m naive, I think the best of everyone, and “don’t worry, be happy,” could be tattooed on my forehead (it’s not – no worries). However – and there is always a “however” – I sometimes feel like hiding under my covers and not coming out. Continue reading
Recipe for Scrumptious Brownies
4 oz dark unsweetened chocolate, 2 sticks sweet butter, melted. Melt chocolate in the microwave or over a double broiler and add melted butter. Stir well. In another bowl, mix 4 eggs and 2 cups granulated sugar together until creamy.
Note: I used 1 cup granulated sugar and 1 cup light brown sugar. Add 1 teaspoon vanilla. Blend chocolate/butter mix with sugar/egg mix and add 1/2 cup of flour. You can also add a cup of crushed walnuts or pecans if you like.
Butter and flour a rectangular baking dish. Pour in batter and bake in a preheated 350°F (220°C) for 25 minutes or until middle is set. Do not overcook! Let cool and cut into small squares.
Note – I eat these hot out of the oven, when they are still gooey – I take a chunk and put it on a scoop of ice-cream!
Excerpt from The Road to Alexander
We walked through the doorway to find Darius sitting pensively on his throne.
Riders of the Lightning Storm
Pioneers from Earth, the first Settlers, arrived on Home Planet in giant spaceships after getting lost in a huge lightning storm. On the planet, they discovered herds of horses that seemed to vanish every time the storm season came. But they didn’t vanish; the horses had the ability to open passages through space to other planets. A few Settlers started following the herds, finding new planets. Soon, a mighty Federation of planets was born, cities and spaceports grew – but there were some who still followed the herds, seeking out new planets for the growing population of Settlers. These were the Herders – a small group of explorers who accompanied their horses across the galaxy, through passages they called the Lightning Storms. But mysterious alien Raiders preyed on the horses and their Herders – and those taken were never seen again. Continue reading
I was scanning the web today, looking for things to put in my press kit, when I came across an interview I did ages ago for Literary Potpourri when my Alexander book first came out. The magazine editor, Beverly Jackson, asked me about finding a publisher. This is what I replied.
Jackson: Do you think you’ve created a new genre? This doesn’t really fit sci-fi or magical realism or mainstream novels, does it? Did you have any trouble finding a publisher? Did the publishing world understand what you were up to? I notice the book is published in Australia.
Macaire: I can imagine Homer trying to sell his Iliad to a modern publisher, and it’s more or less what happened with me and the agents and publishers I approached.
Homer: “Describe my book’s genre? Well, it speaks of war, so it could be an adventure, but it has a love story between Hector and his wife…oh yes, and it has paranormal elements, there’s Cassandra, she sees the future. There are religious factors, the gods and goddesses are always appearing and there is a definite historical slant, after all, it’s about the siege of Troy, but there is quite a bit of humor. What do you think?”
Publisher: “I’m sorry, it doesn’t fit our publishing needs right now. It’s well written, but doesn’t match any category. We wish you the best of luck with another publisher.”
Homer: “I have another one too, this one is called ‘The Odyssey’ and I think it could be classified as a travelogue.” He hesitates. “Adventure travel with elements of romance and the paranormal.”
Publisher: “Send in the first three chapters and a synopsis. We’ll get back to you in about a year. But don’t get your hopes up. History books are not selling, series are out of the question for an unknown, cross-genre is not acceptable for traditional publishers and you haven’t been published before.”
Post Scriptum: Accent Press has accepted the series, and I’m waiting for edits. I’m very excited about the publisher.It’s wonderful to have a new home for Alexander.
I waited four years before finding a publisher. Most editors loved the story, but no one wanted to take a chance on something so radically different than what is ‘out there’. I had a problem with the fact that Alexander had more than one wife, that he was bisexual, and that Ashley is not faithful to Alexander. She falls in love with Plexis, and Plexis is in love with Alexander, and the whole story sort of overwhelmed some people. One person sent back my manuscript with ‘I can’t handle this!’ in big red letters. That was a low point, but I never got upset about it. I love this series, and to tell the absolute truth, even if it hadn’t been published, I still would have been content. I truly love to read these books, and that, to me, is why I wrote them. Because they are fun to read and to entertain. Even if it’s only myself.
Lost Storm Rider by Jennifer Macaire
Carl is a herder, one of the elites who follow their horses through the galaxy in search of new planets. During a passage, Carl’s worst nightmare comes true when he falls off his horse. He ends up on Planet Earth, lost for nine centuries and now nearly empty because of a deadly virus.
He’s rescued by Ruby and her father, who nurse him back to health, because Carl isn’t immune and nearly dies when he catches the virus. He tries to adapt to “Mother Earth”, a planet run by robots, where everyone is either a breeder or a sterile worker. As time passes, he becomes more attached to Ruby. He doesn’t know if he can leave Ruby to her fate, or if she’d consider leaving her family and everything she knows to follow him. Continue reading
Outside in the warm summer night, children ran chasing fireflies. Their voices echoed off cement walls and bounced down empty streets. Invisible in the darkness, their small bodies would appear and disappear in puddles of lamplight as they darted down the sidewalks.
At ten p.m., their mothers’ voices floated out of windows. “Come home, come home! It’s time now!”
There were groans and complaints ending in stifled yawns as the children walked slowly towards home. They all wandered home except one. She hid in the shadows, her eyes fixed on the tall wire fence surrounding the housing development. The fence was too high to climb. Cars went in and out of the front gate, but Mr. Jennings, the security guard sat in a little wooden house and worked the button that opened the gate.
The girl sat and stared fixedly at the fence, but it never moved, an opening never appeared, and after a quarter of an hour, her older brother came and led her home. Continue reading
She was lost gradually. It wasn’t as if anyone could point to a single thing that happened and say; “It was there. She was perfect before that happened. Afterwards we lost her. She was never the same.” Perhaps it would be easier if life could be cut up like so many pieces of pie – wedges taken out and examined, some slices smaller than others, some burned, others not cooked enough. She was my best friend, but I never tried to pinpoint the exact moment she slipped away. It was too complex. A tumor growing insidiously, tendrils branching forwards and backward through time. A smile or tears became remembered instants that shifted unexpectedly as if the lens of a camera came into focus. Incidents that seemed blurry suddenly turned clear. Especially afterwards. Continue reading
Would you believe I’m finally getting it together to write a cookbook? I wrote the query this weekend, contacted Andrea, (my co-idea-co-cooking partner), and we’re going to get this baby out by summer’s end.
It made my think of how bad a cook I was in the beginning – basically I had no idea how to do anything. My mother cooked, my little brother and sister even cooked – and I poured cereal into a bowl and ate only the marshmallows. Maybe it was because I was such a picky eater. I hated everything, and until I got to France, I never thought about cooking. No, that’s not true. I was 17, in the British Virgin Islands and a Swedish woman was making a West Indian curry. It was the first time I’d ever liked something new, the first time I ever asked for a recipe, and the first time cooking became interesting. Typically, it was a melting pot of ideas and ingredients – and it was so easy a child could make it (or a teen who’d never cooked anything but rare toast). Continue reading
Raiders stalk horse herders-capturing them to work their mines-using them until death finally takes the poor humans away from their endless misery. For once taken, no human is able to escape the brutal grasp of these mysterious aliens.