Wait a Minute. You Want Me To Give a Talk? by Betsy Ashton

My last couple of posts have been about writing and publishing. I want to take up one more topic, one which can scare a writer more than anything else. Standing up in front of a group and giving a talk about your book. If you aren't in Toast Masters, or you haven't spent a career giving presentations to clients and management, here are a couple of rules to follow.

1. Thank folks for coming. That's right. That your host, your audience, and anyone else who matters. It makes people feel you are honored they are spending precious time with you.
2. Know what your book is about. By that I mean, tell me in 15 words or less what it is about. I'd suggest you think about writing it in a Tweet, but tweeting has taken on a different life lately. Still, if you can't tell me in a couple of sentences what the book is about, you can't expect your audience to wave a magic wand and divine why they want to read it. Most people call this the elevator pitch: how much can you say about your book in a ride between three floors. That should be your opening.
3. Give the audience a slightly longer summary of the story. Keep it simple. Use as few names as possible. If you have two main characters and a host of secondary characters, focus on the interaction, the conflict, the romance, etc. between these characters. Secondary characters are, well, secondary for a reason. They matter in the book but not in a book talk.
4. Be sure you know what your genre is. Mushy genre bending can confuse a reader. I have never know what a stand-alone romance in a series is. It's either a book in a series or a stand-alone. All books in a series should be able to be read out of order. 
5. Prepare a couple of selections you want to read. These should be no more than 5 minutes long. One should be the hook at the beginning. One could be a teaser to draw the listeners in so they want to buy and read the book.
6. If you are giving a talk at a library or a facility that has a collection of books for residents, offer to give away a copy. You are looking for readers, and libraries provide access to readers. Fear not, libraries will either buy more copies if they have a lengthy waiting list or readers will listen to their friends and not wait. They'll go to Amazon or their local bookstore and order the book.
7. Ask if anyone has any questions. If no one volunteers, lead the discussion with your own questions. Pick some activity that is central to the book and ask if anyone has done it. A friend has a book where backpacking is important. She asks if people backpack. If she gets some comments, she continues. If not, she has other questions in her arsenal.
8. Thank people for coming. Again.
9. Tell people you have books for sale at the front or back of the room. Seat yourself at the table with pens at the ready. Have someone else handle the money. Assure your readers you take checks, cash, and credit cards. Get the Square or the PayPal app so you can rack up sales on your phone or tablet.
10. Hand out book marks or business cards with your contact information.
11. Be sure to thank each person who stands in line for coming and buying your book.
12. Enjoy the hell out of the process.

There. That wasn't so bad. It's fun. You get to brag on yourself. After all, you have done something that many in the room haven't: you've written and published a book. And now you are an author.

Enjoying Research by Betsy Ashton

If you're old enough to remember card catalogs at the library, congratulations. You're an old person, just like me. They were cool. You could flip though, looking for a single book, for example, and find a dozen more through serendipity.

Research today is so much more fun. Take yesterday as an example. I was fact checking a virus for a story. I wanted to be sure I understood how Hantavirus was transmitted. I knew it was called Navajo Flu. Whaa? What's this about Korea? It was named for a river in South Korea. I had no idea, but hey, I love Korean food, especially kimchi, the hotter the better.

Back to the Hantavirus post. Genome? blah-di-blah. Couldn't understand anything. There it was, method of transmission. Inhaled rodent feces and urine. Ya right, like I'm going to have my characters crawl around on the ground sniffing mouse droppings like powdered cocaine.

Hantavirus is carried by rodents and shrews. Shrews? You mean my mother-in-law could be a carrier. Apart from being a terrible cook, here's another reason not to visit.

Rethink Hantavirus. What's equally scary? I need something to strike fear in my protagonist's heart. What's that? Yersinia pestis? It's a Gram-negative, rod-shaped coccobacillus, a facultative anaerobic organism that can infect humans via the oriental rat flea. All I understood in that sentence was oriental rat flea. I live in Virginia. I don't think oriental rat fleas are prevalent. I read further. Plague??? What the hell! It's plague. Bubonic plague plus a couple of others. That I could work with. But, wait. That requires a nearly total rewrite of the story. Not going to happen.

Dump that. No plague. Back to Hantavirus. Found in the Southwest. Love Navajo jewelry. Went to research squash blossom necklaces. Whaa? They were influenced by Spanish pants buttons. Really. Also by buttons worn by Mexican caballeros. So, Pancho Villa? We don't need no stinking buttons, or something like that.

By now I'm so far from where I started that I'm not sure what the original question was. I was having too much fun learning all about new things. I looked at the clock. Where the heck had an hour gone? A whole hour wasted running down rabbit holes instead of stopping with snorting mouse poop.Oh well, I checked the fact. It's solid.

And now I need to figure out what kinds of poisonous snakes are in North America. See you later. 

What It Takes To Be Betsy by Betsy Ashton

Most of you who know me or who have been following me know I'm independent and stubborn. That's a double understatement. So, three weeks ago on April 25th when I fell and broke my wrist, I knew I was going to need a lot of help. My dear husband stepped up to taking care of me along with all of his own tasks. He had no idea what being me entailed.

I broke the right radius, the bone that allows the wrist to turn. I had surgery one week later. 

Now, I'm profoundly right-handed, so I knew teaching my useless left hand to do anything would be a long and winding road. It was and is. 

Let's start with what I'm doing now: writing a blog entry. I'm typing with my left hand, backing up constantly to fix typos, and trying to keep my thoughts clear. Yes, my brain struggles to fend off the anesthesia muzzies. I figured out how to hunt and peck the letters. Then there was a contraption called THE MOUSE. I didn't reset the buttons, because it wouldn't have done a darned bit of good. I'm getting better at mousing. I'm so proud of me. I'm feeling cocky enough to trying to cut and paste, but not until I feel like being bought to my knees in frustration.

Cooking is out of the question. I have a freezer full of homemade soups and stews. We laid in a stack of Lean Cuisine and plenty of fresh veggies for salads and for roasting on the grill. Terry is good in the kitchen. Normally, I cook and he cleans up. Now, he's doing it all. I'm so lucky. Eating itself can be a challenge. As one of my friends said years ago about his toddler: "it's not pretty, but it's effective." Only twice since the break have I wished for a bib. At least, clothes and hands wash. Speaking of laundry, I've never been good at folding fitted sheets, but at least I have an excuse. Wonder how long I can milk this for sympathy.

Personal hygiene has been easier than I thought. A baggie over the mallet bandage first and the brace now, rubber bands to keep the water out, and an elbow to help with shampoo bottles work to keep me clean. Pedicures take care of toes and feet. Forget makeup. I'm out and about in native skin. And bless the people who developed battery-operated toothbrushes; they are my heroes.

To the people who have come to my aid--the nice young lady who helped me put groceries in the car, the barista who put lids on my coffee so I don't pour slop hot liquids all over, and the sweet young girl who carried two lattes to the car--I appreciate your kindness and am in your debt. 

To Joesephine at the Westlake Library, the "scene of the crime," who fetched ice, called Terry, and took me to get emergency treatment, you're my hero for springing into action and not getting sick when you saw how out of alignment the wrist was. I promise to share your kindness forward, right after you rename the building "The Betsy Ashton Library at Westlake."

Two weeks after surgery, I'm in a brace like the kind we wear for carpal tunnel and start physical therapy next week. Keep an eye on Facebook for updates. And if you see Terry looking harried, give him a smile and a hug. He's my super hero.

What Hat Do You Wear? by Betsy Ashton

I've recently read a beta copy of a new coming-of-age book by a debut writer. He wrote a sentence that caught my attention and won't let go: "Try on as many hats as you like until you find one that fits. That’s the one you’ll wear the rest of your life."

The story goes on to talk about the hat you wear in public and the hat you were in private. The one you wear in public is what you do, your job, your role in society, your role in family, etc. The hat you wear in private is the one that guides your heart.

I personally wore many public hats: wife, teacher, student, consultant, et al. Each hat held a special place in my development, but by themselves, they weren't enough. Don't get me wrong. My wife hat is the most satisfying one of all. I've worn it for over 35 years. The teacher hat didn't last as long as I'd hoped, not that I wasn't qualified, but I sought college-level teaching positions right about the time President Nixon (remember him? Tricky Dick?) cut federal aid to education and jobs vaporized.

The consultant hat began after the teacher hat blew away. I held a series of ultimately well-paid positions in several companies over 30 years. I enjoyed my work, but I never defined myself as a consultant for Blap Consultancy. Never to myself or to people I met. It was a job that became a career but was never a passion.

After one egregious day when the moon was transiting Planet Poop, when my colleagues were cranky, and when the client was crankier yet, I curled up in my hotel room immediately after a dinner-for-one and dragged out my laptop. Before I knew it, I'd written a short story about the day, complete with outrageous behavior and a protagonist that had to be me...

I was hooked. I'd found my hat, and a very private hat it was indeed. I wrote early in the morning before we had to be onsite at the client's offices, after hours, on airplanes, at home. I wrote every spare minute I could find. I wrote an office romance that still sits in cyberdust, although I think I'll resurrect it. I feel more capable of trimming it and underwriting it (yup, too much purple prose and too many mechanics of sex) now. 

I wrote a saga about the women who form the core relationships with family and friends. That's way too long (350K words), but I designed it as a trilogy. It may yet see the light of day in a vastly trimmed-down version.

While I was still working, I began the query process and racked up 109 rejection letters from agents. Guess they knew my books needed serious help. I found a sympathetic agent who helped shape my first publishable novel. When she asked if I was thinking about this as a series, I paused a few beats too long.

"Of course, you are," she said. "Of course, I am," I replied. She told me to write brief synopses for two additional books--"a paragraph or two is enough"--and them back to her as soon as possible.

And thereupon, the course of my passion was clear. I was to be an author. I was to write and publish. I was announce to the world that I was a serious author. I was to wear that author hat proudly and loudly.

What hat do you wear?

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Betsy Ashton is the author of Mad Max Unintended Consequences and Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery. She has a new short story, "Midnight in the Church of the Holy Grape," in 50 Shades of Cabernet. Her works have appeared in several anthologies and on NPR.

Love It; Hate It; Can't Live Without It by Margo Hoornstra

 

Ah the writing life. For me, it fits right in with our theme for this month – Love and Hate.

 

LOVE the initial blank page of a new work in progress. All the endless possibilities for characters, and settings and plot lines.

 

HATE all that darned white space staring back, mocking even, when those pesky characters and settings and plot lines fail to materialize.

 

LOVE when the ideas finally start to flow. When all of those marvelous goals, motivations and conflicts begin to gel.

 

HATE when the goal waivers, the motivation stalls and the conflict isn’t.

 

LOVE when characters figure out what they really want and decide they will do anything and everything to succeed.

 

HATE when story arcs that held such promise turn out to be trite and implausible. When characters refuse to cooperate and reveal who they are.

 

LOVE when an air tight and believable storyline emerges, when characters and their individual traits and mannerisms come together in a realistic way complete with snappy dialogue that moves the story forward.

 

HATE when it turns out the characters, with all of their traits, mannerisms and snappy dialogue move the story all right. In the wrong direction.

 

LOVE when characters come into their own, when the storyline, with all of its plot twists and turns, heads in a rush of author inspiration toward the satisfying conclusion.

 

HATE saying good-bye to characters who have been around so long they are now old friends, putting THE END to the settings and story that gave them life.

 

LOVE the initial blank page of a new work in progress. All the endless possibilities for characters, and settings and plot lines.

Speaking of loving the beginnings of new works then hating the saying good-bye to old ones, tomorrow, I say hello again to my latest release from The Wild Rose Press entitled Only If You Dare

 

 



All of the pleasures and none of the pain, that's what Cynthia Buckingham wants in a relationship these days. Multi-decorated veteran turned judge Jonah Colt has other plans for her.

My days to blog here at the Roses of Prose are the 11th and 23rd

Please visit my website at: www.margohoornstra.com

Where is the line between hobby and avocation?

So, it's National Hobby month? Who knew?

I've had a few hobbies in my day. I've won awards for crochet and needlepoint, I've tried watercolors, sculpture, etc. I have a long-time love of gardening and have done extensive landscaping at all of my homes. I usually last in a hobby long enough to get very proficient, then I lose interest and move on.

I have a theory -- I think some people NEED to be engaged outside their normal daily activities. Most of us go to work, have a family, have a routine. But some people really look for something to catch their interest and their passion, if you will, beyond what they get from daily life. It's not just entertainment, although that's part of it. Many of us want to be entertained. Some of us use TV or movies or books, but some people use hobbies and other interests as a way to keep entertained, a way to keep their minds sharp and moving.

My writing is something that gives me that feeling of entertainment, passion, and interest outside of the daily routine. I've always written books, but I didn't set out to be published until about 6 years ago. That's when I got serious about my writing. When I first started out, I was totally engaged in the whole process: learning the craft, researching publishers and agents, attending conferences, taking classes. That has mostly slacked off now, that initial "how do I make this all work!" phase. Now I'm in the "I'm writing and leave me alone" phase. I'm not sure what the next phase is, but I'm sure I'll be there in a year or two.

Does that mean my writing is a hobby? No, it's more than that. I view a hobby as something that can be picked up and put down without much loss. But think of some of the quilters you know, or people who sew their own clothes, or some painters you know. It's more than a hobby to them. It's an avocation, it's something that helps keep them balanced in an otherwise unbalanced world. And sometimes it becomes a career.

Some people make money from their avocations and others do it just for the joy of it. I'm one of those people who need to have something outside of daily life. I can't sit and watch TV and be entertained. I can do it for a few minutes a day, while I'm doing something else (reading a magazine or cooking). I need to have something to do that engages my mind. I'm not competitive, so most sports are out (and it's too darn crowded on the golf course anymore to be much fun). When I "found" writing, I realized that I had found the perfect outlet for me: I can kill off people I don't like in my books (yea!), I get paid to do this, and it's something I'm good and I don't have to suffer to do.

Win win win.

My relationship to publishing is changing and evolving. I'm not sure where it's taking me or what might change in the future. I do know that my relationship to writing will continue no matter what. I love to write and the time I spend with my characters is often more real to me than real life (and more fun, sometimes!) So I will be curious to see what the future holds for this long-time hobby of mine that turned into an avocation and career.

It's been 6 years and about 20 books. What will the next 6 years hold?