travel – Page 3 – Britt Skrabanek

Thank You

Releasing a book is unsettling, and I don’t believe that ever changes. Essentially it’s delivering your heart and soul to everyone in the world—not knowing what will happen, not knowing a damn thing, actually.

Thankfully from sunup to sundown on Tuesday I was comforted by you lovelies. Some of you already bought NOLA FRAN EVIE. Some of you did that AND shared the heck out of my book in social media land.

I was truly overwhelmed by the congrats, woohoo’s, yippee’s, hooray’s, yay’s, and woo’s gracing the comment section of the release post that day. The buzz on Twitter and Facebook made me smile my tushie off.

Wow, you guys…THANK YOU.

It was brought to my attention that I was ranking awesomely on Amazon.

I didn’t believe it, because it’s just little ol’ me after all. But there NOLA FRAN EVIE was all day, kickin’ it with the top 100 of Amazon’s Bestsellers in the Sports category.

It was very neat.

Yesterday I managed to get through a long day at work with my book release hangover. My cat editing team was pretty tuckered out…

Today life is back to normal.

Now comes the time for—fingers crossed—some reviews. A new reader commented on my release post…

“For those who have read this book and enjoyed it – do the author a huge favor and please take a moment to post a review on Amazon! (no we’re not related!) Reviews mean a lot!”

Um, I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Let’s face it, we all read reviews before we purchase anything these days, right? As you all know, I am a little indie author who depends on you guys—my shining community—to spread the good word. A few minutes of your time to leave one would be magnanimously appreciated.

That brings me to NOLA FRAN EVIE on Goodreads! Click right here, loves.

For my Goodreaders out there, be a doll and make sure to add the book to your “currently-reading” or “to-read” lists when you have a sec. I wanted to share NOLA FRAN EVIE’s first bit of praise from a current reader on Goodreads…

“I’m meeting 3 distinct women that share a common past life. I’m looking forward to see which ‘girl’ I’m going to bond with. Too soon to tell. It is definitely not too soon to know how well Britt writes. I like her words a lot. Fine job Britt!!”

And if you haven’t scooped up your copy on Amazon yet, I’ll leave you with a shout-out from a dear friend of mine to see if that persuades you a bit.

“Hey! Do you like to read? Do ya like to read cool books written by rad humans?! PERFECT! My friend Britt Skrabanek wrote a book….so go buy it! Bonus, it’s only $3.99 on Amazon! That’s cheaper than Starbucks, and oh so much better. #SupportIndieAuthors”

AMAZON

AMAZON UK

Thanks a bunch, sweet friends! Hope your weeks are filled with beauty, sunshine, and awesomeness! Much love…Britt.

That Unmistakable American Comfort

I played baseball for a bit when I was younger. I was pretty damn awful.

Writing an entire novel with a strong baseball element seemed daunting at first. Writers are told to write what they know and baseball was foreign in so many ways.

Then, I realized it wasn’t foreign at all. For what can be more American than baseball?

In my eyes, watching games on TV never did baseball justice. I was very lucky, because my dad took me to a professional game every summer when I was a kid.

Although I wasn’t a good player, I loved the intense magic of going to a game. The enticing smell of popcorn in the air, the perfection of the combed dirt and manicured grass, and the joyful innocence of every spectator regardless of age.

Even today, these memories with my dad are very dear to me. And it was not until writing this book that I found the right one to dedicate to him…

For My Dad…He taught me I was just as good as the boys.

Funny thing is, this story fell right into my lap.

I’ve always wondered what opening a treasure chest might feel like, and a couple of years ago I found out when I discovered clues from 1954 in this vintage handbag.

Hidden deep inside the crevices of the musty lining were these…

And this…

On the back of the voting receipt was a shopping list written in a woman’s elegant handwriting…

CHOCOLATE

FLY SWATTER

SHOES

FILM

LOAN

Suddenly I was linked to the past, to a woman who carried this handbag sixty years ago. I pictured three different women who might have owned it and my imagination went wild.

So wild that I wrote my third book, NOLA FRAN EVIE.

The baseball tickets were from 1954. Interestingly enough, the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League folded that same year. I decided this was fate, so I brought these historic women back to life in my book.

The women who played in the league during WWII were considered unladylike and unusual. But during that time women filled in for men everywhere while they fought overseas, including the baseball field. The boys weren’t there to throw the ball around, since they were busy pitching grenades.

Though at first seen as a girly spectacle, according to aagpbl.org, during the league’s peak year in 1948 the teams attracted 910,000 paid fans.

Photo Credit: State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory; 1948

Before the movie “A League of Their Own” came out in 1992, the women’s league was hiding out in the dusty shadows of history. The film is actually done quite well, with a decent amount of historical accuracy.

Most importantly, the film brought these incredible women who changed history into our modern lives.

Besides the film and some non-fiction, my online search the other day did not provide any fiction books written about the All-American Girls Baseball League. To tell you the truth, I’m a bit shocked.

I hope this book will honor the female players in the smallest way that I am capable of. For they were brave women who forever deserve to be recognized and celebrated.

An excerpt from NOLA FRAN EVIE—from the first chapter we meet Nola in 1954, ten years after she has left the league…

Dark shades receded from her face. Nola soon became a welcoming victim to the cloudless skies and breathless majesty of the stadium. Brick red dirt intermingled with apple green grass, both pristinely groomed for the occasion. White bases littered the canvas sporadically, accenting the no man’s land like islands of security.

It smelled like her dreams.

Silently, Nola reached her son’s side and gave him the soda. He drank straight from the rim of the bottle while she applied more lipstick to her curvy straw.

They joined hands and slurped. Energy, awe-inspired energy, radiated through their palms.

They descended the stairs—toe ball heel, toe ball heel—tiptoeing upon the unsuspecting field with care. Sunlight bounced off their shiny hair, illuminating them as they drank their pops.

At the railing they released hands and leaned forward to absorb every scent on the field. The earth, the sweat, the leather.

Grady spoke first, his voice clear over the murmuring crowd and the provoking announcer. “Can you imagine, Ma?”

Drunk with memories, Nola briefly touched the back of his head. “Imagine what, little sir?”

He folded his lanky arms on the railing and rested his chin. “All of this.” His blue eyes devoured the field, admiring each player warming up.

Nola followed his gaze and mirrored his love for all that was happening.

The ball shot through the air, a stitched bird gliding until it met the leathered hand of its receiver. Then it catapulted to another, simultaneously graceful and open-minded about its destiny. Tobacco spit shredded the clean air like tarred fireworks. Backsides were scratched with opulent vigor. Sneers and jeers traded seamlessly from one ace to another.

Like the thick noise of the stadium every part of the experience blanketed her, smothering everything Nola thought she needed, replacing it with what she really craved…baseball.

“Yes, I think I can imagine all of this.”

He squinted at her, confused by her unexpected response.

She cupped Grady’s chin with her quivering hand. “I think I can.”

If you missed meeting my characters, please check out “Meet the Dames” and “Meet the Fellows” for a little background.

NOLA FRAN EVIE will be available in paperback on Friday, March 8.

Meet the Dames

Last week I proudly revealed the big title change and release date for my third book, Nola Fran Evie (formerly The Bra Game).

I’m stoked to be taking part in my very first blog hop thanks to my sweet blogger friend, Andrea Stephenson of Harvesting Hecate, who tagged me.

Andrea’s writing is beyond brill, always lovely and thought-provoking. Be sure to check out her piece for her up-and-coming novel, “The Skin of a Selkie”, which I am super duper excited to read when it comes out.

The theme of this blog hop is “meet my character”. I decided to format it a little differently as I wanted to take this time to introduce all three of my main characters to you.

Naturally trying to wrangle up writers for blog hop tagging, especially with the looming book release, is a no-go for me. So I’m cheating a bit and leaving the tagging option open.

Here are the questions if any of you writers out there want to play in the blog hop by answering them at your place…

1. What is the name of your character? Is he/she fictional or a historic person?
2. When and where is the story set?
3. What should we know about him/her?
4. What is the main conflict? What messes up his/her life?
5. What is the personal goal of the character?
6. Is there a working title for this novel, and can we read more about it?
7. When can we expect the book to be published?

Photo Credit: State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory

Nola Fran Evie follows three strong dames who were former players in The All-American Girls Baseball League. They accidentally reunite in 1954 on Wrigley Field and find their lives intertwined once again.

There’s feminism, sport, jazz music, civil rights, and romance in this retro, summertime romp across the great city of Chicago. Call it a deeper, sexier “A League of Their Own”, and what happens after.

I love classics, so all three main characters favor iconic movie stars: Nola as Grace Kelly, Fran as Audrey Hepburn, and Evie as Marilyn Monroe.

In fact, Evie takes after Marilyn so much that I weaved a running joke throughout the book, where she is constantly mistaken for the actress. Being that it was 1954, Marilyn was at the peak of her career so I thought it would be fun to play with.

As fashion is always an important element in my stories, I included costumes worn by these actresses. So those of you with a love for classic movies may recognize some of the clothing.

I’m happy to introduce these gals to you now…

NOLA JEAN “FARM GIRL” TURNER

An All-American girl from a farm in Waterford, Wisconsin, Nola played ball during the Depression with charming country boys using bats made out of rotting fences. Raised by her father, he encouraged her to try out for the women’s league, knowing that she would become an integral part of women’s history.

In the league she was known as Farm Girl, a pretty face who pitched like a fierce ballerina. She’s elegant and confident but tough as nails underneath the classy lady.

By 1954 Nola is a lonely widow raising her son and working as an executive secretary at a bank. When she comes to Wrigley Field after being away from the league for a decade, the reality of her suburban unhappiness comes crashing down as she faces the colorful past she left behind.

“Like the thick noise of the stadium every part of the experience blanketed her, smothering everything Nola thought she needed, replacing it with what she really craved…baseball.”

FRAN “LIPPY” MARCIANO

An Italian-American from the South Side of Chicago, Fran played ball in alleys with her three older brothers and other mouthy city kids in the neighborhood. When Fran’s brothers went off to war, she tried to follow them. But Fran and nursing didn’t exactly mix and she was declared unsuitable for service. To do her part in the war, she tried out for the league.

In the league she was known as Lippy, a fearless back-talking catcher who played and spit like one of the boys. She’s feisty and loud but has a heart of gold underneath the tough girl.

By 1954 Fran is living unconventionally with a Cubs ball player and working for the Sun Times as a sports photographer. While she’s covering a game at Wrigley, she spots Nola in the stands with a little boy and makes a beeline for her. It’s been far too long since she last saw her friend, and she knows that fate has brought them together on this day.

“To get Roland’s attention she put her fingers in her mouth and whistled at full volume. She pictured Nola and the other women behind her cringing at the indelicate whistle. But like any other day, she didn’t give a hoot.”

EVIE “TOOTS” SHAW

A Polish-American from the wealthy Chicago neighborhood of North Shore, Evie played ball and flirted with fun boys until she reached her full curviness, and they either stopped talking to her or tried necking. Evie’s mother was an austere Polish woman after riches and status who ordered Evie to marry for money rather than love. Evie rebelled and ran away from home to try out for the league.

In the league she was known as Toots, a busty lefty and the league’s sporty pin-up girl for the boys overseas. She’s come-hither and charming but vulnerable underneath the va-va-voom.

By 1954 Evie is unhappily married to the rich, womanizing Cubs’ owner and is a reluctant socialite. After a showdown with her no-good husband in the owner’s box, she crashes into Fran in the midst of a breakdown. Fran dislikes Evie for her choice of husband, Harvey Shaw, who singlehandedly finished off the women’s league earlier that year.

“The wall Evie leaned against outside the owner’s box was like a good man—holding her up, keeping her from falling. But, how’d she know what a good man felt like? That wall was the closest she was ever going to get.”

Thank you all for meeting my sassy dames. Next week you’ll get to meet the fellows.

Nola Fran Evie will be out next month…July 22!

Read an Exchange with Author Britt Skrabanek (@brittskrabanek)

Hey, beautiful friends!

I was honored to have the opportunity to be interviewed by the lovely Eden Baylee. We covered everything from mottos to favorite curse words, from inspiration to guilty pleasures. Be sure to check out the whole thing over at Eden’s place. Happy Friday!

I’ve met many authors via comments they left on my blog. That is how Britt and I connected. Of course, then I discovered we had friends in common, so I’m thrilled to showcase her and her work.

She was a lot of fun to interview and I’m sure you will enjoy reading more about her. Please welcome Britt Skrabanek to Eden’s Exchange.

* * * *

Britt, so great to meet you and have you here at last! Tell my readers if you have any great extravagances.

International travel is my vice. I love the rush that begins with entering another country, from the sound of the stamp as it pounds my American passport to the unfamiliar language drifting into my ears. Traveling abroad opens our minds to other cultures and helps us grow into more tolerant human beings. Each time I come back home, I feel like a better…

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Dream a Little Dream On a Streetcar

Last Friday evening I waited with a jittery bunch of passengers for the North-South line streetcar to arrive in the middle of downtown.

Some, like me, were part of the late bunch who had just finished work. But most were out on the town, traipsing amongst the vast array of quality restaurants and watering holes.

I was in a mood.

After work I was wiped out and wanted nothing more than to get home, wind down with a cold beer, and hang out with Mr. H and the cats.

As the streetcar approached, it looked packed. It was warm that night, and being smashed up against strangers was the last thing I wanted to do.

Then, I began to hear a familiar tune.

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you”

(Okay, I’m losing it. Am I hearing Ella Fitzgerald on the freaking streetcar?)

Birds singing in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me

Yes, I was.

The streetcar doors opened to reveal a full-on jazz trio—two guys and a gal—clad in 1940s duds. She was the lead singer, one guy played the guitar and sang with her, while the other manned an upright bass.

We all squished into what I could only describe as a party train from another time. Fortunately, there were plenty of others around to console my fear of insanity. Historical fiction writing can blur the lines of reality and make-believe in my head sometimes.

It turns out that I happened upon another thing that makes the city of Portland that much more awesome.

Streetcar Mobile Musicfest celebrates the city by featuring local musicians on downtown streetcars at various times of the year. The live music is included with your streetcar fare, which is a whopping buck one way.

Lucky me had the privilege to see Boy & Bean. They were talented and mesmerizing.

To say that this was a magical experience doesn’t even do it justice.

The music transformed the public transportation experience entirely. Usually everyone tunes out on the streetcar, listening to music, fiddling with their smartphones, or sitting with their arms crossed and staring out the window.

That night everyone tuned in.

Riders were smiling, clapping, photographing, filming, and swaying in the seats and aisles.

There was an old couple next to me dancing and singing the whole time. The woman and I looked at each other with foolishly happy tears in our eyes. From two completely generations, we grinned and moved together, connected by a few beautiful minutes on a crowded downtown streetcar.

It would not have been hard to spend hours there, enjoying the vibe with all of those strangers as the city lights sailed by. Of course, I almost missed my stop and jumped up just in time.

I reluctantly exited the streetcar and walked home in a different mood than when I got on, jiving inside.