Trying to find #amwriting during times of churn

When life hands you lemons ...

... make a bourbon sling? That's the only thing I can think of at times like this.

I have some challenges coming up, medically speaking. Hopefully, it's all routine and no big deal, but I am, for the first time, dealing with The Medical Establishment.

O.M.G.

The paperwork, the tests, the bills, the insurance, the calls here and there, the insurance, the paperwork, the tests. Who handles this? Where do I find that? Should I worry about that? Is that normal? How long will this take? Where do I go for that and how long will it take?

Thankfully, there have been no emergencies, this is all regularly scheduled and relatively calm. I mean, most of the stuff I need to do has been scheduled for me, so I just have to show up and act somewhat intelligent.

I can only imagine if someone (1) has little or no grasp of technology or (2) has trouble managing mounds of paperwork or (3) is physically challenged and having trouble getting around.

So, when life hands you lemons, look on the bright side. It could always be so much worse. I'm one of the lucky ones. And by the next time I have a post here, this will all be behind me and I will be enjoying that bourbon sling, with my laptop open and I will be #amwriting again.

J L
(jayellwilson.com)

Why would you tackle a sub-genre of Romance you don't read? #amwriting #paranormal #bear shifters by Vonnie Davis

          If I've told you this story before, please, let's chalk it up to a senior moment. I seem to have them at random.

         I was recovering from cancer surgery to my saliva gland—of all places—when a pair of large golden spots began to glow in the back of my mind. These strange apparitions didn’t go away. Brain cancer, I thought. The surgeons didn’t get it all and the cancer’s spread to the back of my head. Just as I was ready to call the doctor’s office to make a dreaded appointment, the glowing neon yellow spots blinked. Blinked, mind you!

Eyes?

These spots I’d tried my best to ignore for two weeks were eyes? Well hell, I didn’t need a cancer doctor. I needed a shrink!

For almost a month as I healed, making daily trips to the doctor to have liquid drained from my swollen face, these yellow eyes watched and waited and willed me to speak to them. Now, I might be a tad crazy, but even I know better than to talk to things that shouldn’t be there.

So, one night as I was drifting off to sleep, the eyes moved. They floated from my head and into the face of a huge brown bear standing at the foot of my bed. Since I believe book characters often search for an author to write their stories, I told him he was at the wrong house. That I didn’t write children’s stories. He shook his large head. “Oh, you’re not that kind of bear?” He silently shook his head again. It was an eerie moment.

Then to my surprise and delight, he shifted into a kilt-wearing Scot with long dark hair. “Oh gee, you’re still at the wrong writer’s house. I don’t write paranormal. I don’t even read it.”

He sauntered to my side of the bed and sat. “Aye, lassie, but ye will.” His Scottish brogue sent a shiver skittering over my skin. “Scoot over and I’ll tell ye how bears came to be extinct in Scotland.”

I snuggled closer to Calvin and the bigger-than-life Scot stretched out on the bed next to me with one hand beneath his head. He told me the most bizarre, imagination boosting tale of his ancestors. He said his name was Creighton Matheson—Mathe meaning bear. I absorbed every detail of his family’s legend.

What do you think was the first thing I did when I woke up the next morning? I googled “Are bears extinct in Scotland?” They were. In fact, I found an article where the UK was trying to re-introduce the species into the Highlands. The article claimed the bears were shot into extinction by hunters in the previous century. But I had a better story…straight from the mouth of a bear shifter.

I was told by a woman who reads auras that the bear was my totem; my healer when I got sick. Who’d have thought?

My series of shifters began with almost zero knowledge of the paranormal genre. I hadn’t intended for anyone to read them because I felt like a fake writing about something I was ignorant of—but, oh, what fun I had writing for my own enjoyment.No pressure because I didn't intend to show them to anyone. My agent at the time told an editor at Random House about my “play stories.” The editor read the first three chapters of one and gave me a contract for three books in a series. The books and novellas have continued and I’ve fallen in love with the bear shifters with the glowing, golden eyes.

In His Midnight Star, Bear has made a close connection to Star. He expects her to stay in Scotland with him and his human half, but she can't. Or so she thinks. Bear brings her three heart-shaped stones as presents...

“How wonderful! Even when I leave and go back to the States, I’ll have these to remind me of you and Gunner. Thank you so much, I love them."

Bear howled and stamped his foot. He reached for Gunner’s kilt and wrapped it around Star. He pointed and his jaws popped."

“I love you, Bear, but I can’t stay. I must go back to Georgia.”

A pained roar bellowed from his throat. Would he get angry and attack? Her heart pounded a fearful beat. To her surprise, he marched to the corner of the room, sat with his back toward her and his face in the angle. His shoulders were slumped and he moaned and moaned.

Great, a bear that throws tantrums. How can I make him understand when a large part of me wants to return to Scotland once I kntow I’m okay? I’m too confused to help anyone…or anything…at this point. I need some distance to think clearly about Gunner and me

She charged into the kitchen. What few dirty dishes were in the sink were covered by a large fish Bear had no doubt thrown there. Maybe he was hungry. She carried the fish into the bedroom and dropped it on Bear’s lap. “Eat this and calm down.”

No sooner had she whirled around and made a few steps than the fish slapped her in the back. She yelped and spun in his direction. Bear’s back was to her again. Oh, two can play this game. She bent, picked up the fish, and threw it at the back of his head. He growled and started to shift.

~~~~~~

Ah, a food fight with a shifter. No one ever accused me of being normal. Have a grand day.

www.vonniedavis.com

If Only I Could Just Begin and Be #amwriting…Again by Margo Hoornstra

Brothers in Blue is my latest four book series from The Wild Rose Press. Brad, Vince, Adam and Luke are four heroes who met at the police academy and became lifelong friends. The drop out, the straight arrow, the movie star and the maverick; all have a passion to serve and protect, each in his own unique way.

On The Surface, Book 1 is released and available on virtual shelves everywhere.

On The Force, Book 2 is completed, submitted and Ally, my editor, LOVES the finished product. 

YAY!

Now it’s on to write and finish Book 3, On The Make. Right? Sit down and let my fingers fly as the story flows freely from my brain to page after printed page.

Yeah, I wish. For whatever reason, or reasons, I’m having a really challenging time getting started on this one.

I know quite a bit about the hero, Adam Hollingsworth aka Adam Pride, since he was mentioned in On The Surface and made an actual appearance in On The Force. He’s a police office by profession and, after moonlighting as technical advisor to the stars, becomes a super hero movie idol by chance. Adam’s at a point in his life where, while the adoration of fans is nice, it pales against the elusive dream of having a family of his own to have and to hold.

I know the heroine, Madison Clark no longer believes in heroes. Not after being widowed amid scandal and left with two adolescent boys to raise. Even the so called super hero who's come to town to make a movie. The one her oldest son, in desperate need of a father figure, seems to worship. The same hero who happens to arrive at various points in Madison's life at precisely the right time to save the day.

I know any kind of happily ever after fantasy is nowhere near being on either of these wounded souls’ radars. ***wink, wink***

I even have Madison’s evil villain ex brother in law all figured out, too, and waiting in the wings to spread his hate and discontent throughout Madison’s life. Then there’s Tina, a groupie gone mad to complicate Adam’s.

I also know how this one begins…

“Let us pray.”

Madison Clark dutifully lowered her head, along with scores of others in the huge, impersonal auditorium as memories of a previous, and similar, life changing event swirled. It was bad enough three years ago, when she’d had to bury her first husband with his sons, and hers, on either side of her.

Somehow, she’d gotten through it. Even when Dak, the sensitive one, sobbed so loudly during an acapella solo of Amazing Grace, it was nearly impossible to make out the lyrics. At eight, he’d been old enough to understand, and process the events that had happened since his father’s unexpected and lethal leukemia diagnosis. While not being able to make any sense of it at all.

She’d survived, even when older brother Cameron, stoic, silent and long suffering like his dad, didn’t move a muscle during the entire, grueling forty-five minutes of the service. Then got up and walked down the aisle and straight out the door of the funeral parlor without so much as a word or glance to anyone. She could hardly blame either of her boys for their reactions when they were thrust into the heartbreak of losing their father. The man who loved them more, much more, than life itself.

Now, a mere thirty-six months later, front and center in the jam-packed and impersonal amphitheater, she prepared to bury spouse number two. Though Dak and Cameron were a few years older and supposedly, more mature, this time they exhibited no more emotion than simple and detached boredom as the accolades went on and on and on for their mother’s late husband.

From then on, I’m pretty much stuck…for now.

If it’s always so gratifying to bring a book or books all the way to THE END. Why is it always so difficult to get started on the next one?

My days to blog here are the 11^th and 23^rd. For more about me and the stories I write, along with some free downloads, please visit my WEBSITE.

#Amwriting and #Landscaping, Compared by Rolynn Anderson

Here’s the ‘before’ picture of our lawn:

Today, I’m showing you the war-zone that is our front yard with the grass sliced off:

Talk about the blank page, the table rasa…whatever you want to call a front yard that won’t grow a blade of the green stuff, ever again.  And I’m from the Midwest, where acres of grass and a riding lawn mower to cut it, are common.

But no more.  In California, we have to water lawns to keep them green, wasting precious water and costing lots of money.  Drought tolerant plants, here we come!  And because homeowners can spend too much on these endeavors (much more than they’ll ever get back when they sell their home), I’ve decided to work with a local gardener instead of employing an expensive architect/company.  One neighbor spent $150,000 on his front/back yard redo.  I’m going to try to keep costs to around $30.000.  Wish me luck!

Now, I’ve seen my share of blank pages before, but they don’t scare me like this front lawn project.  Plus, in a novel, we try to come up with unique settings, plots and characters, so we can make the story our own.  We’re told not to guess what our readers want; instead, to write the novel of our heart.  Not so with landscaping.  I have to design a front-yard plan offering curb appeal to ‘enhance’ our neighborhood vibe, and entice prospective buyers.  That’s a lot of stress!  A good thing: samples of front yard plans (Xeriscaping) abound.  I can’t ‘copy’ someone else’s novel, but I can reproduce every aspect of someone else’s landscaping.  The degree of ‘sharing’ in the yard redo business is phenomenal.

I’ve gathered pictures that please me on my Landscaping Pinterest.  https://www.pinterest.com/rolynna/rolynns-landscaping/

We have a California Ranch style home, so I’m going for palms, yucca, agave, and succulents.  Some varieties of these plants are not frost tolerant, and though we rarely have freezes here, I still have to make sure all my plants can handle frost/freezing temperatures.

My writing has suffered because of this project, yet I’m exercising my imagination with every step of the project.  And who knows, maybe my next mystery could center on a landscape architect.  Stay tuned as I slog through this process...and let me know how/if you have handled a front yard makeover!

Web and Blog:

http://rolynnanderson.com

Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rolynn-Anderson/188767867821613  

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/rolynnanderson

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4990049.Rolynn_Anderson

Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/author/rolynnanderson

Month of #Love #99cents Sale (No #Piracy) by Brenda Whiteside

Following on the heels of Andrea's Post yesterday, the illegal distribution of someone else's creative endeavor drives me bananas. Those who steal for profit should be prosecuted or at the very least shut down. If an author wants to give away her books for free, that should be her choice.

But there's another side to this, and I doubt there's anything that can be done about it. Art, in any form, has long been considered a product of love not profit. No one would think the work and material and time that goes into making an item such as a light bulb is born from love or that the end product should be offered up for all of society to enjoy for free. For some reason, creativity, in any form is viewed differently. Not to say people do not want to put out big bucks for a Van Gogh or a first edition of Alice in Wonderland. Eventually, creations are valued. Unfortunately, I think the Internet is the biggest reason there is a free for all attitude on music and books today.

The Internet has introduced millions to what they might not otherwise know. It enriches. Yet, it also takes away. What do you think? Can I blame the Internet?

I'm offering up two ALMOST FREE reads. Books three and four of my Love and Murder Series are on sale this month.

A LEGACY OF LOVE AND MURDER

Inheriting an Austrian Castle is an Alpine fairytale for August, until someone begins killing the heirs.

Amazon Link-ON SALE

THE POWER OF LOVE AND MURDER

Penny Sparks has secrets that can ruin a presidential contender, got her family murdered…and mark her as the next hit.

Amazon Link-ON SALE

Publicity or #Piracy by Andrea Downing

I don’t watch much TV but I do like to keep up with the latest films.  When I say latest, I mean, I put them on my Netflix DVD list and a few months later they’re released, and I eventually receive them.  I pop them into my player and what I see first is a stern warning from the FBI:  “The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by federal law enforcement agencies and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.” Of course, their very fine seal and badge also accompany the page, which is followed by the statement, “Piracy is not a victimless crime” put there by the National Intellectual Property Center, who have a web page recounting how piracy affects the economy.

Well.

Why isn’t that reproduced on the copyright page of every book? Can they not send out a meme we could all download to use?

Nominated for a RONE Award, I attended the very first InD’Tale conference in Las Vegas, which was my very first conference as well. There, I sat in on a panel by a well-known, NYT best-selling, award-winning author. She let it be known that she earned upwards of 400k a year. I’ll never forget her advice to us—not to worry about piracy, see it as free promotion.

Well.

Whether you’re earning 39 cents through a publisher ebook, or a higher percentage through being self-published, those little pennies can add up.  Maybe it’s not going to make you 400K; in fact, I personally don’t care about the money--it's probably a small amount.  What I care about is that someone else has taken control of my book, is publishing it where they please, or handing it out. Some are free, some are not. Intellectual Property is just that—property, owned by someone. It’s true that most of the piracy sites are not, in any case, giving away books; they’re phishing for credit card details and using our books as the bait. I believe authors rarely get reviews from the readers who help perpetrate these crimes, and they are presumably not readers who might become lifelong fans. The books they receive are often badly formatted through whatever method the pirate has used. Plus, there are now enough free books and discounted books to keep anyone reading for a lifetime without patronizing a piracy site.

Well?

Reader or author, let me know what you think: Publicity or Piracy?

And with a bargain like this, who needs a pirated book?  It's nearly Valentine's Day, and love is in the air with these seven novellas by seven award-winning and best-selling authors. What's more romantic than a sexy cowboy? Treat yourself to a best-selling contemporary western anthology with 53 Reviews and 4.5 Stars, only $0.99. A COWBOY TO KEEP is at https://www.amazon.com/Cowboy-Keep-Contemporary-Western-Collection-ebook/dp/B072869SGV/ . Go catch a cowboy . . .. and keep a cowboy!

Beginning the beginning...again by Leah St. James #amwriting

Several months ago I wrote about ripping up the plot of my current WIP and essentially starting over.

What was my old prologue is out, and a brand-new prologue is in. My original Chapter One was moved to later in the story, and what was Original Chapter Three is now New Chapter One.

(Did you all follow that? I’m not sure I did!)

To recap, I now have a New Chapter One—a new beginning. And we all know how important beginnings are. Yes, I have a prologue, but Chapter One is still so important. When I read a book with a prologue, I look at the first chapter as the start of the real story. To me, it still has to grab the reader right from the start, or else that reader could very well toss the book and go to the next book that he or she likely picked up for free or cheap somewhere! (Sorry, got a little off topic there.) I need, and want, something that good. (And I really loved the beginning of Original Chapter One, too....sigh.)

But we soldier on.

 

This book is a sequel to my debut novel (Surrender to Sanctuary), and New Chapter One opens with one of the main secondary characters from that book. In fact, that same character opened the first book (in the prologue), so in a rare moment of inspiration, I decided it would be clever to parrot that opening.

Here’s the original opening from Surrender to Sanctuary:

Maxwell Davies was lost.

He squinted toward the countryside behind him, down the tattered two-lane roadway he’d just traveled, empty but for the smattering of cows and sheep grazing on the hillsides and an occasional farmer’s cottage. Ahead lay the intersection of a triplet of lanes bordered by a series of hedgerows and flowering bushes that threatened to overrun the dirt-packed lanes.

Should be easy to come up with a complementary opening, right? Not so much. I hated everything I came up with. Like these...

Maxwell Davies was troubled.

UGH. Lame! Weak! Wimpy!

Maxwell Davies was desperate.

No way, totally out of character.

Maxwell Davies was enraged.

No!!! Makes him sound like a lunatic...and it's way too early in the book for that!

So here’s what I’ve come up with so far for my New Chapter One beginning. I’d love your opinion. Would you want to read more? (Remember: This is a first draft. Please be gentle!) :-)

Danger.

Maxwell Davies sensed its presence as he stood at the big picture window in his office overlooking the back lawns at Sanctuary, Virginia, a tumbler of Maker’s Mark in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. Members in tuxes and their mates in glittering gowns gathered in groups of four or six, talking, laughing, drinking, enjoying life. Others danced, their arms twined tightly around one another, on a temporary dance floor where a six-piece ensemble pumped out a steady playlist of top hits from the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s.

The community was in party mode, and he was late, lost in thought over the troubled waters they’d just navigated, and the murky waters that still lay ahead. Maxwell didn’t know the source, or the timing, only that every instinct screamed warning-warning-warning like a clanging bell in the back of his head. (In my head I’m hearing "Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!" ... Might want to change this line.)

Dusk had fallen, layering the sky with streaks of oranges, pinks and blues, casting sultry shadows over the celebrants. Ahead, multicolored lights twinkled in the trees lining the mighty James River, like hundreds of rainbow fireflies lighting the evening sky. Flowers in a dozen shades lined the pathways traversing the property from the river all the way to the gated entrance.

My creation, he thought as he took a puff of the cigar and savored its rich tobacco flavor. Mine to protect. Mine to defend.

 So that's what I've got. Thoughts? 

Am I worrying too much?  Does the first line of the first chapter have the same impact on a reader when there is a prologue? 

Or maybe I just need to finish the book before spending too much time on this. I mean, who knows what might happen to Max between now and then!

.......................

Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil and the power of love. She blogs here on the 6th and 22nd of each month. Learn more at leahstjames.com.