Betsy Horvath

Author: Betsy Horvath

  • Everyday Angels

    Everyday Angels

    A few days ago, I lost one of my very close friends to cancer. I have had the privilege of knowing and loving this woman and her family for many years, so the loss is keenly felt. This is especially true because she is probably the reason I’m writing this blog post, and indeed am writing at all.  Hmmm…that’s not quite right.  I’m sure I would have still been writing if we hadn’t met–I’ve been doing that my whole life.  But I’m not sure I would have thought that publishing and putting my stories out for other people to read was a valid pursuit without her encouragement and support.  Back when I didn’t think anyone would want to read something I’d written, and assumed it was all a hobby and a waste of time, she assured me it was not.  Even though she didn’t always appreciate WHAT I wrote, she was firm in her feeling it was something I should do.  That belief helped me do it.  

    Our friendship wasn’t always a comfortable thing and sometimes had its challenges–but that’s the way it goes when you know someone for a really long time.  She was always there for me, and I’m going to miss her a heck of a lot.

    As I was thinking about her, and trying to figure out what to do for the blog this week, I realized I had already written something back in 2011 that might be a good fit for this situation and decided to repost it.  Because the truth is, we never really know the influence we have on other people.

     

    Today I’d like to tell you a more serious story.   It’s kind of long, and a little sad in places, but don’t worry–everything turns out okay in the end.  And it includes some angels.

    Once upon a time, there was a girl. We’ll call her “B.”  B had a lot of problems, not the least of which was that she was being “picked on” at school on a daily basis.  The kids doing it tended to be cruel, cutting, and constant in their “attentions.” B had been the focus of such attentions in elementary school but they really ratcheted up once she got to junior high school.  You see, B was very chubby, very shy, somewhat geeky, and scared. In other words, she was the perfect target. Things got pretty intense for a while.  B’s thoughts were…not good.

    Then at the beginning of 9th grade, B walked into a Home Economics class a little late so everyone was already sitting around tables. The only available seat was at a table with boys. Boys had been B’s most dedicated tormentors (although some of the girls certainly contributed, too). Anyway, as B stood, not knowing what to do, one of the boys at the table looked up, smiled, and said. “Here’s an empty chair. Why don’t you sit with us?”

    B sat at the table and eventually she and the boy became friends. She made friends with the other kids at the table too.  It was a turning point that came just at the right time.

    Fast forward to 11th grade. B had taken on a project that was far beyond her capabilities, bitten off way, WAY more than she could chew. It was a lot of responsibility, and she didn’t know what she was doing or how to handle it. She felt helpless and afraid. Because of who B is, she locked all of those feelings up deep inside. Everything kept winding tighter and tighter inside her until she really thought she was going insane. She probably was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She might even have been having one.

    Then there was this girl. This girl and B had been friends for a long time, although B could be a real jackass and had a lot of issues. The girl had remained B’s friend even when she probably shouldn’t have. When B was at her worst in this particular situation, the girl knew B was in trouble. She said, “You’re really upset. You need to get away from this. Why don’t you come out with me and my grandmother?”

    B went with them. She couldn’t quite explain it, but it was like a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. There’d been an elephant stepping on her chest, and after that small trip, it eased off a little bit. She still sucked at what she was trying to do, but she had a friend who cared enough about her to see it.

    This boy and this girl were everyday angels in B’s life. There were other angels too, and they kept materializing as the years went by [including, but not limited to the woman I mentioned in my intro]. The angels always seemed to show up when things were at their worst, offering encouragement or hope.  And, in part due to their timely interventions, B has lived and grown and even managed to thrive. After a while, she learned that sometimes she could be an angel too.

    I guess all that I’m trying to say here, in a very long-winded way, is that we just never know. We don’t know how something we say, some little action, will impact another person. We don’t know if we are going to be somebody’s angel. We don’t know if a little remark, a simple act of kindness, a throwaway gesture, will save someone. We don’t know if our cruelty will destroy them.

    So please think before you speak, people. We can be angels, or we can be demons. The choice is completely up to us.

    P.S. – this post is for all of my many, many angels. Love you guys.  Thanks.

    I don’t know if my friend who just passed away knew she was one of my angels, but she was.  I don’t know if all of the people who helped me last year when I was going through such a difficult time knew, but they were angels, too.  Seriously, we just never know.  Without even realizing it, you may be exactly what the person you’re dealing with needed today.  Or vice versa.

     

     

     

     

     

  • A New Hardy Falls Story is Available!

    A New Hardy Falls Story is Available!

    As I mentioned in my previous blog post, the novella I wrote last year and talked about frequently–nay, incessantly–here on the blog has FINALLY come out! My little boulder is all grown up and flying free in the world.  Er, rolling free!  Roll, little boulder!  Roll!

    Starting Something is a Hardy Falls story FREE for all newsletter subscribers and not available anywhere else.  It features Sophie Barton, who has appeared with her two sons in previous newsletter articles, and Noah Chertok, one of June’s old boyfriends who appeared in Believing Love. This novella will be the first of three stories about Sophie and Noah and their journey into love and relationship.

    And here’s the information –

    Sophie Barton moved to the little town of Hardy Falls, Pennsylvania after her marriage imploded, searching for peace for herself and her two young sons.  With so many problems and responsibilities on her plate, getting involved with her sexy next-door-neighbor isn’t even a blip on her radar. Then a torrential spring rainstorm, a leaking bathroom roof, and a series of poor choices leave her stranded without a ladder and looking to him for rescue.

    Noah Chertok is too busy keeping his family’s contracting business alive to pay much attention to his pretty new neighbor and her ridiculously cute kids.  But neighbors help neighbors, and when he finds out she’s got a problem, of course he’ll try to do what he can.  Little does he know that taking that one step forward will find him firmly entangled with the little family next door.

    Once the ice is broken, Sophie and Noah realize they are sliding into something neither of them expected. Then Sophie’s past comes roaring into town, and her whole life is shaken. Can she take a chance again with Noah?  Or is it simply too much of a risk?

    Welcome to Hardy Falls, Pennsylvania, where sometimes things start before you even realize what the heck is going on.

    You can get this novella for free when you click HERE and subscribe to the newsletter. There are also a number of articles from The Hardy Falls Gazette already posted, and I have plans for more special things in the future!

    I hope you join us!

     

     

     

     

  • My Current State

    My Current State

    Hello, friends!  This is just a quick blog post to let you know what’s been going on around here at the Palatial Horvath Estate over the past few months, lest you think the answer to that is “nothing,” which has sometimes been the case in the past.

    As I hinted in last week’s post, I might not have been blogging much, but I have actually been working!  Shocking but true!  I don’t even KNOW me anymore!

    Throughout January and February, I was able to write 90,000 words of the next Hardy Falls novel.  For a reference point, that is a longish, full-length book.  But at the beginning of March, I realized there was one teensy, tiny, wee bit of a little problem with all of that.

    Those 90,000 words, although swell words in themselves, and just peachy keen to read, were not a book.  They were a collection of scenes randomly racing about in a lot of different directions.  Some of the scenes went out together and danced the macarena, and some were living in isolated huts deep in the rainforest and hunting poisonous frogs.  And none of them added up to a novel.

    *Sigh*

    How did this state of affairs develop?  Especially since I thought I had a plan at the beginning of the year?

    The first reason is, I was flailing around and trying to find my footing in a lot of different areas of my life. Since a creative pursuit like writing comes from the inside, as I was flailing around, so thus was what came out of me. The words I wrote did not line up like little soldiers following the commands of the outline.  No.  They were children at a candy store, skipping from scene to scene to scene to scene to scene.

    Still, that’s not too unusual for a first draft—at least not for one of my first drafts. But it did make me a little sad because I had hoped for a better result since I really did have an outline this time.

    And therein lies the second reason the scenes I had written did not come together.  I was determined to use my outline, even when it became somewhat obvious that I needed to regroup.

    Once I got further into things and got to know the characters and the circumstances better, it became clear that the underlying story structure of the outline just didn’t work.  But I tried to make it work.  I had made up my mind that it would work.  I was COMMITTED that it would work.  I jammed square pegs into round holes over and over again, because damn it—this was going to WORK!  It WAS!  There was an OUTLINE, by gum!  And that outline would be followed!

    But, in the end, it did not work.

    It did not work to the extent that even *I* had to admit it did not work.

    Obviously, I need more practice with outlining.  Or MAYBE, just maybe, using an outline in the way I was trying to use it is not something that works for me and I need to embrace my inner Betsy and find my own processes (more on that in another post).

    Anyway, the story didn’t work.

    *Sigh*

    So, I bit the bullet, contacted my long-suffering editor to let her know I was going to screw with her schedule and dove into the mess.  Hence, last week’s blog post.

    I’m calling the draft I’m working on now the “Avengers Assembly” draft because I’m taking what’s been written and trying to piece it all together.

    Maybe the “Frankenstein” draft would be a more accurate name.

    The good news is, the Frankenstein draft is almost halfway finished and I have 40,000 words or so that are proud to stand up and be counted.  They are words I can look at with pride and pet and love.  Of course, the part of the story that’s left to pull together is the most problematic because it’s the part where the scenes already written really went off to party like it was 1999.  It will take the longest to fix, if it can be fixed at all.  What else is new?

    Wait?  What’s that sound?  *cocks head* Is that a gentle breeze rustling through the trees?  No.  No, it’s the heartfelt sigh of a long-suffering editor.

    But at least, as of the moment that I am writing this blog post, things seem to be sliding into place on the home front and the book front, so I’m hoping to have the next Hardy Falls book finished soon.

    The usual disclaimers apply.

    Oh!  You might also be interested to know that, thanks to Kobo promotions for their romance free book page and Google Play being big internationally, as of today my books have been downloaded / purchased in at least 91 countries.  I think that’s pretty cool.  When I see countries listed that I didn’t even know WERE countries, and I realize someone there (or maybe even a few someones) is reading about Hardy Falls, or at the very least has the book on their e-reader…well.  It’s something special.

    So anyway, for those who care, that’s what’s been going on in my life at the moment.  It’s really quite boring since I basically just sit at my desk and stare at a computer or out the window, but never fear!  There’s always something right around the corner.

    Just FYI – I’ll be sending out a special little story to the newsletter subscribers this Wednesday.  I’ll let you guys know about it later, but if you want to join the newsletter and see for yourself, you can click HERE.

    And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your support.  You guys are the best!!

     

     

  • Unknotting The Knots

    You may be interested to know that one reason there hasn’t been a blog post for a few weeks is because, amazingly enough, Betsy actually IS working.  But it turned out that the work she was doing had gotten all tangled and snarled, like a ball of thread that had become hopelessly knotted. 

    Then one day, when the ball of thread Betsy was pushing would not roll any further because it was so knotted and snarled and tangled, Betsy sat down and started working on unraveling the situation.

    Here’s how it went…

     

    Betsy is walking up a tall mountain.  She is carrying a ball that is really just a huge wad of tangled threads.  A single thread is coming from the ball and winding off behind her.  As she walks, the thread continues to unwind to show her where she’s been.  But it’s been getting difficult to keep moving.  The massive tangle in Betsy’s hands prevents the thread from unwinding smoothly.  Sometimes Betsy has to yank at it to keep it going.  Her progress has become full of stops and starts.

    Unwind…yank…pull…unwind.

    Then, suddenly, Betsy can’t go any further.  The thread is stuck.  She yanks.  Nothing.  She pulls.  Nothing.  She twists and turns.  Nothing. “Oh, for heavens sakes.”  Betsy sits down on the mountainside and pulls at the thread that has been unwinding behind her, trying to dislodge it from the tangle.  It doesn’t move.

    “Great.”

    When she looks closer, she sees that the thread has become impossibly knotted, just like a fine necklace that’s been carelessly dropped into a jewelry box.

    In fact, this exact thing happened to Betsy once.  She had tossed a necklace into the bottom of her jewelry box without thought.  The chain of the necklace was so fine that it became knotted almost at once, and the knot was so difficult to see that Betsy almost gave up trying to get it free. But the necklace was precious to her, so she persevered and was eventually successful.  It just took a lot of time.  Does she want to spend the time here?

    But this tangle of threads is precious too, isn’t it?

    Betsy picks at the clump of knots with her fingernail with no result.

    “I see the knots, but they are such a mess that I can’t see where to pull to get them out,” she mutters.

    Betsy picks up her tangle of threads, looks at it.  Holds it up in the air above her head.  Scratches at it, tries to tease it apart, but she can’t make an opening.

    “What am I supposed to do now?”

    “Keep working at it.” 

    Betsy turns to see the Muse is walking towards her, flowing up the mountain.

    “Keep working at it!  Do you see how knotted it all is in there?  This is a waste of time.”

    “Well, I suppose you can throw this mess away and go back to the beginning.  Start again.”

    “I don’t want to do that either.”

    Muse settles on the ground beside Betsy.  Raises an eyebrow.

    Betsy sighs and goes back to work on the knots.  She picks at the tight thread until there’s a little leeway and she can get her fingernail into the first knot.  When it loosens enough, she pulls it apart.

    That’s not going to help much.  The knot is loose, but when she starts things rolling again, it will only tighten up and be as bad as it was before.

    Betsy thinks for a moment.

    “You know what you have to do,” the Muse says.

    Betsy does.  With a sigh, she starts pulling the string that has been unwinding behind her as she has climbed the mountain.  She gathers it into a neat little ball, only a tiny fraction the size of the tangle she’d been holding (she hadn’t gotten very far before the knots stopped her).  Once she has it all wrapped up, it’s pretty easy to loosen the knot and slip the little ball through the loops.  Then the knot is gone and the thread is smooth in her hand.

    She does this for the next knot.  And the next.  And the next.

    This goes on for quite some time.  Some of the knots are tricky and require a lot of thought.  But eventually, it looks like the knots are out.  Not all of them, of course.  Some are still embedded into the thread itself.  But the big ones, the ones that were making the thread a tangled mess, are relatively smooth.

    “Good job,” the Muse tells her.

    “I guess, but now I’ve lost my way,” Betsy says.  “Since I had to pull up the thread that was behind me, I don’t know where I came from.”

    “Roll that ball and let the thread that was behind you go back to the beginning,” the Muse tells her.

    Betsy does as she suggests and the little ball of thread rolls back down the mountain.  Betsy frowns.

    “But that’s not right.  It didn’t go back to where it was before.”

    “Of course not.  Where it was before is what created all of those knots as you got further along.”

    “Oh.”  Betsy frowns.  “So you’re saying I wasn’t quite on the right path.”

    “No.  And that got everything all tangled and snarled.  But now you’re smoothed out and ready to roll again.”

    “Will it stay that way?” Betsy demands.

    The Muse shrugs.  “Probably not.  Sometimes you have to work out a few knots before you really know where you’re going.”

    “I guess.” Betsy sighs and starts moving again.

     

    To be continued…

     

     

     

     

     

  • Stuck and Unstuck

    When we last left Betsy, she was shouting the plans she had for her writing business from the rooftops.  But then…nothing. 

    Hmmm.

    In all honesty, part of the reason for the nothingness was an extremely bad cold that hit Betsy HARD right after she made those bold proclamations.  Bad colds have a tendency to do that kind of thing.  In the same way that household appliances, such as water heaters, break right at exactly the worst time.

    And part of the reason for the nothingness was that once she stops writing blog posts, Betsy sometimes has a hard time getting back into them.  Deciding what to say is a bit difficult when she gets out of the flow.

    And PART of the reason she vanished is because Betsy told herself that she didn’t want to use her creative time and energy to write blog posts, although that was undeniably an excuse to make herself feel better about being lazy.

    But still, there should have been some word by now, right?  Has Betsy been working at all?  Has something gone wrong?

    Let’s see…

     

    *Betsy is walking alone in a dark forest, in a thicket of vines and thorns and weeds that claw and bite and obstruct her way* *Trees rise before her in the darkness, their branches knit together overhead to block the sky*  *Dense shrubbery bars her way*  *Roots and rocks trip her up as she tries to walk forward*  *Betsy falls*  *Forces herself to stand up again*  *Holds hands in front of her to try to find her way, rips at the plants to make space to get through*

    *Betsy stops*

    *She turns to the left, to the right, in a circle* *Nothing* *Just darkness* *And weeds* *So many weeds*

    I don’t know where I am! *Betsy claps her hands to her face* I’m lost!  I’m alone!  I don’t know where I am!  I don’t know where I’m going!

    Sheesh.  Drama queen much?

    Muse?  Is that you?  *Betsy blinks into the darkness*

    Who the heck did you think it was?

    I thought I was alone. *Betsy holds out her hands* *Catches the Muse’s robe*  I can’t see you.  I can’t see anything.

    Why did you stop?

    Why?  Why?  *Betsy’s fingers clamp down on the robe*  Because I’m lost.  Duh.

    Hmm. *The Muse sounds contemplative* How did that happen?  I thought you were following a path.  I thought you had everything all planned out before you started writing this book.  That’s what you said anyway.

    *Betsy pouts* *Lets her hands drop* I did…well, I thought I did.  But once I started, the path just faded away and all of this undergrowth popped up. Maybe I started at the wrong point and I need to go back and start over.

    You’re doubting yourself.

    Maybe.  *Betsy pouts* *Kicks at weeds*

    And BECAUSE you’re doubting yourself, you made some wrong turns.

    Maybe. *Betsy pouts* *Lip wobbles*

    And MAYBE because you didn’t believe you had the right starting point and then you didn’t believe you had the right ending point, you got yourself stuck in the middle.  And now you don’t know where you came from or where you were going because you didn’t trust the path you’d laid out.  So you stopped.

    Maybe.  *Betsy pouts*  But I was walking forward and this…thicket just sprang up and blocked the path! And the trees sprang up and blocked the sky!  And then I couldn’t see where I was supposed to go or what was ahead so I didn’t know if I was heading in the right direction!

    You might have been heading in the wrong direction, but it was still a direction.  As opposed to, you know, now.  When you are heading in NO direction.

    I guess.  *Betsy pouts*

    And all of these plants didn’t just spring up out of nowhere.  Their seeds had to be sown first.

    Oh.  *Betsy thinks*  So…you’re saying I planted them?

    What do you think?

    I think it’s not fair.

    So?

    *Betsy pouts, but she also thinks*  So, maybe I got lost in writing because I’m doubting and second-guessing myself.  And maybe because I’m doubting and second-guessing myself, I got stuck.  And maybe if I’m doubting and second-guessing myself in my writing, it’s because I’m doubting and second-guessing myself in other places, too.  And that makes me stuck all over the place.  And when I’m stuck, I’m not going anywhere.

    Your writing is a reflection of you.  Weeds don’t just stay in one part of the garden.  If they’re there, they get into it all and choke everything out.

    Oh. *Betsy thinks* Then how do I get unstuck?

    How about you just take a step forward?  One little step.

    *Betsy tries* *Vines wrap themselves around her ankles to hold her*

    It’s hard!

    Duh.  But you might want to know that you’re almost at the end of this draft.  You’re almost finished with this part of the project.  A few more hours of dedicated struggle and you’ll be there.

    Really?  *Betsy blinks*  I don’t see anything.

    Maybe not up ahead, but turn around.

    *Betsy turns*  *Looks behind her*  *Sees a path laid through the weeds and the forest*  *It’s broken in places, but it’s there, glowing in the darkness*

    Oh!

    See?  You actually did make progress.  The path is rough, it needs work, maybe it needs a lot of work, but it’s basically there.

    The weeds—

    They’re trying to choke you out.  They’re trying to stop you.  That’s the test.  Can you keep going in spite of the weeds you planted yourself?  Can you keep pressing through when you are doubting yourself and don’t think you’re getting anywhere?

    So I should keep going?  Stop second-guessing?

    Yes.  *Betsy still can’t see her, but she knows the Muse is smiling*  Keep going.  Just move.  Just write.  Worry about the details later.

    *Betsy thinks*  Okay.

     

    To be continued…

     

     

  • Planning, Planning, Planning

    Happy New Year, everyone!  Welcome to 2019!  Goodbye, 2018 and don’t let the door hit you in the rear on the way out!

    Okay, okay.  2018 wasn’t all bad.  No year is.  In fact, in a lot of ways, 2018 was a very GOOD year.  People I love started new lives, got married, graduated, found new opportunities, became new people.  *I* found new opportunities and became a new person as I started a new life.  But that didn’t make it any easier to live through a veritable tsunami of change and difficulty and sadness.

    Just as an aside, I was so paranoid on December 31st that I refused to leave my house.  I thought 2018 might grab me as it whisked away into the night.

    But I made it! And now here I am, standing on the glimmering shore of a brand new year!  2019 will have it’s own difficulties and challenges.  It will have great rewards and, I’m sure, problems.  And it’s all spread before us, shining, basically untrod.

    Ahhhhhhh.  Breathe.

    In preparation for entering this new phase, I’ve been spending the last month or so planning, planning, and—wait for it—planning.

    Seriously, guys.  So many spreadsheets.  And flow charts.  And cork boards.  And computer documents.  I bought a new pack of highlighters and pencils and brand new erasers.  I got an appointment book and new calendars.  I created detailed schedules and even set a few hard deadlines.

    Frankly, I’ve been planning my tuchus off.  I am determined to hit the ground running this year.  The way I hit the ground last year was not particularly helpful, so I thought try something new.

    I’ve worked out backstory and general outlines for the next five books in the Hardy Falls universe, as well as a detailed outline for the book I’m going to start writing tomorrow.  Because I know more about the backstory now, I also know what needs to be incorporated into the novella I wrote last year and that can finally be finalized.  I have the newsletters planned out for the next 12 months, and I know how those stories will interact with the books (more on that to come).  I’ve also planned out a few other projects that are a little more nebulous.

    I will continue to blog—hopefully with more regularity.  Harry and the Muse and the rest of the gang will be back and all of my psychological issues will come out to play for your enjoyment.

    Golly, that’s a lot to do.  And I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am to be doing it!!!  Welcome, 2019!  I’m glad to meet you.

    I hope you are all hitting the ground running too.  Let’s get this party started!