I’d Throw It at The Wall, But I Don’t Want to Break My Kindle by Mackenzie Crowne

With a single glance, each of you could accurately determine which of the nearly one hundred novels on my re-read shelf are my favorites, simply by the amount of wear on their bindings. However, my shelf of paperback keepers is little more than a testament to bygone days. To a time when physical books were all we knew and a handful of publishing houses set the rules.

Those days are over. Epic changes have hit the book world since the advent of digital formatting. Some of those changes were long overdue. Others, I could live without. In the “Wow, that’s cool” column is the convenience of the “one click” purchase. How sweet is it to no longer have to run out to the book store in search of the perfect weekend read? And I have to tell you, travelling is so much easier these days.

Instead of a dozen paperbacks hogging space in my luggage, my trusty Kindle fits in the pocket of my purse. Along with many favorites, it’s jammed full with books by unknown authors who’ve tempted me into giving them a try via bargain basement sales. There are at least one hundred TBR titles on that sucker that I haven’t had the time to read. Having such an extensive selection, picked up at rock bottom prices—or for free—is another point for the “Wow, that’s cool” column.

Or is it?

One of the biggest changes brought about by the digital revolution is the explosion in self-publishing. As an author, I’m thrilled for the many talented writers out there who can now bypass the time-consuming and seemingly arbitrary submission process common to traditional publishing houses. As for the avid reader in me, a million new books hitting the digital shelves each week is a giddy reality.

Available at the
bargain basement price
(snicker)
 of $.99 

On the flip side of that reality is the “Well, that sucks” column. What’s the old saying? Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should? Let’s face it, in today’s market, anyone can self-publish. And before you freak out, I’m not saying anyone who self-pubs writes crap. Believe me, I’ve read some total crap that came from the Big 5 and, in full disclosure, my first foray into the publishing world was an Indie project, my breast cancer memoire, Where Would You Like Your Nipple? available at Amazon. (Ahem. Shameless plug.)

All I’m saying is, like the title I deleted off my Kindle last night after a single page—the impetus for this post—quite a few of the books that hit the market each day should never see the light of a tablet screen. Seriously, knowing how to use a computer keyboard doesn’t make you a storyteller. Which, I’m thinking is a strong justification for the existence of seasoned acquisitions departments in all those publishing houses who insisted on setting the rules for so long.

But who am I to toss ice water on someone else’s dream? If there is a story inside you that needs to be told, by all means, go for it. Just, please, understand there are some very important benefits to your manuscript spending some quality time in the hands of a hard-nosed editor. Do yourself and the reading public a favor. Find one.

Bottom line, whether you’re an old hand in this industry or a wide-eyed newbie, choosing between seeking out a publisher or becoming your own is a complicated decision filled with countless variables unique to each situation. No matter which road you choose, there will be pitfalls.

(Ask me about the cover I recently received for the next and final book in my Players series. No, wait. Don’t ask. I’ll start crying again.)

Because my publisher is awesome, they are rectifying the cover situation, but that kind of cooperation isn’t always a reality when dealing with a publishing house. On the other hand, going Indie and having to handle absolutely everything, including formatting, marketing, and promotion, has its drawbacks as well.

I’ve experienced both, and for complicated reasons, I’m ramping up to jump back into the self-pub market with a fantasy romance series I hope to release beginning this fall. I’ll be taking my own advice, of course. There will be multiple editors involved before anything goes to print, because I would hate knowing someone had tossed their Kindle at the wall because of me.

When Mac isn’t throwing her Kindle at the wall, she spends her time weaving HEAs for her characters, like the latest in her Players series, Wyatt and Piper from TO WIN HER SMILE, now available for preorder via KensingtonBooks

An Old Pro at Sail Adjusting by Alicia Dean

She stood in the storm and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails. ~ Elizabeth Edwards

I am not a sailor, nor am I a boatie. (I just coined a new phrase. You know, like trekkie? ;)) But, I know a little something about adjusting sails. When I was a child, our family moved a handful of times, and a few of them were devastating, frightening prospects, although they turned out fine in the end. All I had to do was adjust my sails. As an adult, I’ve moved quite a few times, changed jobs, made and lost friends, divorced, relocated, etc, etc. At nearly fifty, I began a whole new, never before attempted career as a legal assistant. As it turns out, I have a knack, and I love it. A lot. Of course, there’s also the writing thing. Rejections, publishers closing, attempting new genres, searching for new ways to market your book, and struggling with some of the stories that just don’t seem to want to be written. Talk about needing to adjust your sails!

All of that was easy, because I was the one affected, the one having to adjust my sails. But, recently, each of my three adult children has had experiences that have more or less rocked their world. I have found it’s not as easy to adjust sails for someone else.  I watch helplessly as they struggle and grieve, and all I can do is be there for them, encourage and listen to them, tell them that these experiences are, unfortunately, a part of life, and promise them that things will get better. And they will, it just takes time and a lot of pain. I believe each of our experiences, good and bad, mold us into the people we become. Maybe it’s a good thing I can’t take the hurt and struggles from my children. If I did, they wouldn’t become the people they are meant to be. They wouldn’t find their inner strength and fortitude. And, they would never learn to adjust their own sails.

Even though I don’t like for my children to suffer, I love for my characters to suffer (simmer down, I reward them in the end :)) I think that’s one reason I’m struggling with my latest WIP. My heroine isn’t suffering enough. I need to find some diabolical ways to wreak havoc in her world.

The heroine of my paranormal romance, Soul Seducer, dealt with a great deal of suffering. When you’re being threatened and tormented by one Grim Reaper, and falling in love with another, you have to do a lot of sail adjusting. Soul Seducer is an older release, but I got my rights back, and it’s been re-worked and re-released. I added back some scenes that my publisher made me take out, and it has a fabulous new cover. 

***Temporarily on sale for 99 cents:  Amazon   Barnes and Noble

She spent her entire life fighting death. Now she’s falling in love with him…

Audra Grayson became a nurse in order to help save lives. But one night after a brutal beating, she almost loses her own. The near-death experience opens a door between the world of the living and the world beyond. Two Grim Reapers invade her life. One is charming, with the angelic blond looks of a saint and the black soul of a psychopath. The other is dark, dangerously attractive and, in spite of her distaste for his reaper duties, she finds herself inexplicably drawn to him.

When Audra's patients begin to die unexpectedly and her loved ones are threatened, she will risk her life—even her soul—to save them. But can she risk her heart to an inhuman being whose very purpose is to take those she is trying to save?

Excerpt:

A crash and a scream sounded over the noise of the crowd.

Audra shot to her feet and stared in the direction of the commotion. At a Gyro stand near where Jaxon stood, a small group of people had started to move frantically, some in one direction some in the other. Between the sea of bodies, Audra glimpsed a toppled chair and the prone figure of a man.

A male voice shouted, “Give him room, people. Back off. Someone call 9-1-1.”

Jaxon rushed over to the source of the uproar, and Audra grabbed their belongings, heading to join him as quickly as she could, although her progress was slowed by her limp and the rush of people. Several had vacated their seats and were also moving toward the action, trying to get a glimpse of what was taking place.

Keeping an eye on her target, Audra was pushing her way closer to Jaxon and the hubbub when she spotted the blond ghost. She halted, her breath stalling in her lungs. What the hell?

He was closer to whatever was happening than Audra was. She peered through the mob and, just as she feared, the dark stranger was there, too. He moved through the crowd easily, which was no surprise. After all, ghosts weren’t hindered by mere solid objects. Anger contorted his face, his dark brows drawn over his piercing blue eyes. Forgetting the potential victim for a moment, Audra changed her course and headed toward the dark man, who was nearer to her than the blond. Once and for all, she would get some answers.

When she was within earshot, she shouted, “Hey, you!”

He whirled at the sound of her voice, his eyes momentarily widening in surprise, then he turned away and continued his course.

“Stop!”

Some of the people nearby cast her puzzled glances, probably wondering who she spoke to, but most of them were focused on the drama unfolding next to the Gyro stand.

She was almost upon the man now. “I said stop. You have some explaining to do.”

He barely spared her a glance. “I can’t talk now,” he bit out, still striding toward where Jaxon was administering aid to the ill man.

Before he’d covered half the distance, he came to a sudden halt, his fists clenching next to his sides. “Son of a bitch!”

Audra followed his gaze, and her brow creased in confusion. Through an opening in the crowd, she saw Jaxon crouched next to the fallen man, giving him chest compressions. The blond stood just behind Jaxon, his arms outstretched. Even from this distance, Audra could see an expression of complete rapture on his handsome face.

She looked back at her companion. Unlike the blond’s, his expression held abject despair, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered again.

“Someone,” Audra whispered next to him, “had better tell me what the hell’s going on.”

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of My Writing Abilities by Alicia Dean

The Good: I think (I hope) that I am pretty good at creating villains, at writing creepy scenes and weaving a fairly interesting suspense. Here is a brief creepy scene from DEATH NOTICE:

Clown-bastard punched a button on the CD player and that song about Pina Colada's started. He walked slowly toward her.

"Why?" she asked, choking out the word.

He spoke for the first time. "You know why."

"No. I don't. I swear. Please tell me."

He sighed as if disappointed. "Laurel, Laurel, Laurel. Would knowing why make what's about to happen any easier?"

"Oh, God," she sobbed, dropping her chin to her chest as her entire body shook with terror.

"I didn't think so," he said.

She lifted her head and stared up into his face. "I'll do anything you want. Please don't hurt me. Pleeeaasse..."

His red lips curled into a smile. "You always were easy."

She frowned. "Do I know you—" The words were cut off abruptly when her eyes dropped to his right hand and, for the first time, she saw the knife. Panic gripped her, moving from her heart into her throat.

He gave a soft laugh and reached his free hand up to the orange hair. Slowly, he removed the wig. Her attention was riveted to his actions, the knife momentarily forgotten as she watched in curiosity.

Next, came the nose. Then, he took the collar of his costume and started wiping at the makeup.

As his features were slowly revealed, recognition dawned and she gasped in shock, but no words would come. A small glimmer of hope surfaced. She did know him. And he wouldn't hurt her.

She smiled, found her voice, and made a sound, something close to a nervous laugh. "What the hell? You really had me scared. Is this some kind of joke?"

He didn't answer. She looked into his eyes and felt the smile slip from her face.

Her remaining hope vanquished when the knife plunged toward her breasts. The first cut made her scream.

It was a long while before she stopped.

 

The Bad: I suck at characterization. I am not great at emotion, or at love scenes. I try, really I do, but somehow, what I’m thinking and wanting to convey, just doesn’t come across. My characters are not real enough, not sympathetic enough. But, I’m working on it. That’s the thing about writing, even though I’ve published 18 novels and short stories, I never want to stop learning, stop improving.

The Ugly: When the writing just isn’t working, when every scene is like being in labor, a very long, trying labor, and having a tooth pulled at the same time. Also, the Ugly is that I don’t have near enough time to devote to my writing.

But, you know what? There is a lot more Beauty than there is Ugly.

The Beauty is…

• I’m doing something I’ve dreamed of my whole life.
• When a reader takes the time to let me know they enjoyed my story.
• When the words flow and you actually love what you’re writing.
• The satisfaction of typing The End, even though you know there will be tons of revisions.
• The phenomenal people I’ve met in my writing journey. I still marvel at how supportive and close-knit the writing community is.

I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else, and no matter how Bad and how Ugly, I know, the Beauty is always lurking around the corner, and without the Bad and Ugly, the Beauty wouldn’t be quite so beautiful.

 

The Beauty is also that with self-publishing, we have the freedom, the control, to write whatever we want. I’ve always loved gothic mysteries, and I had the pleasure of writing my own contemporary gothic mystery a little while back. It’s on sale right now for $1.50. Here’s the blurb for Lady in the Mist:

(Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Lady-Mist-Winter-Frost-ebook/dp/B00J08MW1S/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1400505177&sr=8-3&keywords=lady+in+the+mist )

Upon her arrival in Shoal Harbor, Maine, Lily Jackson hears eerie moans that the locals claim are the ghostly cries of the unfortunate Breckenridge women. Running from loss and setback in Cincinnati, Lily needs the job as semi-psychiatric caregiver for Andrew Breckenridge, but the storm she has to weather from the oldest Breckenridge brother is severe. Clinton Breckenridge is a brooding man used to getting his own way, and he’s not convinced Lily is the right person to help his troubled younger brother.  

Even as Lily starts picking up the pieces of Andrew’s tortured psyche and finding out his dark secrets, another mystery looms before her. Andrew’s lover has gone missing in recent months and no one knows what has happened to her, or if her voice has joined those of the other Breckenridge women. Before she knows it, Lily finds herself in danger—thrust directly into the eye of the raging storm.