My Music Monday (TIED Countdown) Wk 18
Once again, I am moving My Music Monday back a bit in order to make room for yesterday’s blog post.
If you want to read the excerpt for TIED, it’s right here: TIED Excerpt
And Thank You for all the support yesterday. Appreciate you guys!
On with the playlist.
TIED #GIVEAWAY! Starting soon …
Soooo …. Very soon I will be giving away some FIRST EVER printed bookmarks for
TIED,
Book One of the Fire Born Novels.
Here’s a sample of what they look like (although they are much prettier in person.)
Here’s the front:
And here’s the back:
Told you they were pretty.
So what do you have to do to win one?
Stay tuned—details will be forthcoming. 
In the mean time, follow the blog for more updates on future swag and check out TIED on Goodreads
My Music Monday — (TIED Countdown) Wk 22
We’re getting closer and closer to the release of TIED. Continuing on with the playlist ….
Imagination, Not Invention …
Only in men’s imagination does every truth find an effective and undeniable existence. Imagination, not invention, is the supreme master of art as of life.
~ Joseph Conrad
English: Joseph Conrad Print Collection portrait file. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Author Spotlight and Giveaway! — J.A. Belfield Author of Resonance!
This week on the blog, I have a very special treat. Author, J.A. Belfield is stopping by on her RESONANCE Blog Tour!
She’ll be sharing Part 2 of her short story, HEREDITARY, as well a random ‘one liner’ to tease everyone a bit from her newly released novella, RESONANCE, 2.5 of The Holloway Pack Stories!
AND she’s doing a giveaway!
Follow the rest of the RESONANCE BLOG TOUR by clicking the button below:
Up first, Part Two of HEREDITARY!
{You can read Part I over at Known to Read}
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Gabe’s flesh bubbled beneath my palm. Not like a blister bubbled, but like those irritating bubbles one gets whilst decorating and the wallpaper just won’t go flat.
“Mum?” His head lifted, jaw rigid, eyes screwed to narrow slits.
My mouth opened and closed. What the hell was I supposed to do?
More swellings appeared across his body, a couple even tugging at the skin of his face.
The scrape of his fingers induced my eye twitch as they clawed through the pile of the carpet.
“Shelley?” Mia’s first word held shrill panic.
Gabe pleaded with me, and his gasped, “Mum?” throbbed through my mind.
Mia urged me again, her high-pitched, “Shelley?” screeching through my ear-drums.
Still, I didn’t move, almost frozen—my mind along with my body.
I glanced between the slitted gaze of my son and the startled one of the frightened girl.
Both of them stared back, their desperation for me know what to do evident in the high shine of their eyes.
I needed to think, but it was so hard when my child seemed to be in some kind of danger—impossible to compose rational thought.
“The phone,” I managed.
Mia’s focus didn’t waver.
“Get me the phone,” I said. “Now, Mia!”
She left the room like a bolting animal. On her return she carried the phone.
Taking it from her, my thumb already aimed for the ‘9’. As I hit it for the second time, a strangled cry flew from Gabe’s lips.
His back bowed, his head snapped back—both movements almost too fast to follow.
Before my mind had time to register the change to his condition, he’d collapsed to the floor, arms splayed, his eyes squeezed tight as pants heaved from his chest.
Deep dread slacked every muscle in my body; the phone dropped from my fingers. “Gabe?”
No response. He still breathed, though—the proof whistled past his teeth.
“Gabe, come on, answer me.”
A long, low groan responded, seeming to echo for seconds within his chest.
Mia’s knee nudged mine as she sank to the carpet beside me. Her glossy gaze met mine for a moment, before we both reached out to tap Gabe’s shoulder, gently shake him, murmur his name—as though united in the plea for his wellbeing.
For seconds, I didn’t believe he’d wake up—until he rolled with exaggerated slowness to flop onto his back.
At last, his eyes opened—a little unfocused, but open nonetheless. “Mum?” His voice came out a whisper, a little boy seeking comfort.
“Right here, hon.”
His reprieve lasted no more than a couple of beats. With groans and retches, and clutches to his stomach, he flipped back to all fours and threw up with projectile violence.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” I said, searching for where the phone had landed.
Gabe shook his head, gave a barely whispered, “No.”
I located the phone, pushed the ‘9’ button.
His arm darted out, his sweat-soaked palm covering my hand. As he shook his head, his eyes beseeched, and for reasons I never did fathom, I did as he asked.
~*~*~*~*~
Looking back, I wondered if he had his suspicions, even then—if he somehow knew it to be the prelude to so much more. If his instincts were already present.
Either way, he wouldn’t let me call for help—not then, nor for any of the following attacks through which he suffered.
I thought my son was dying a slow and torturous death and he wouldn’t allow me to do anything. I’d never been so helpless.
~*~*~*~*~
The next occurrence came almost two weeks later, then a week after that, and again after another week—each one seeming to intensify.
His flesh ‘reacted’ more boldly, his pain appeared to be on the increase, and the vomiting lasted longer with harsher effects. In between those, the escalating muscle spasms and cramps refused relief no matter how copious his fluid intake.
The fifth one arrived a mere five days after the fourth—witnessed by my dad.
After Gabe had writhed around on the floor, his body twisting in ways that shouldn’t be possible, and he’d been helped to the sofa to recover from the regurgitation of his dinner, Dad had taken me to one side in the kitchen.
“Close the door, Shelley,” he said.
I nudged it to, pushing harder until I heard the click of connection when he urged me to do so.
“What’s going on?” he asked once I’d turned to him.
“I don’t know.” It was the truth. “It’s been going on for weeks now. Each time is worse.”
“And has he seen someone for it?”
“He won’t let me call anyone. Says he doesn’t need to be seen, just keeps telling me he’ll be all right.”
“He’s a kid.” He pointed at me. “You’re the adult. For goodness sake, take responsibility.”
At five-foot-eight, my dad still managed to be an imposing presence, and I peered up at him like I used to as a reprimanded child.
When I didn’t respond, he spun for the table. “I’m making the call, then.” He took the phone from its cradle. “I’ll book him in to see someone, and I’ll take him myself.”
“Leave it, Granddad,” Gabe called out.
Dad’s head tilted as he frowned. “How the hell can he hear us?”
“He does that a lot.” I shrugged, frowning. “Hears things, smells things.”
Dad returned the phone, glanced to the door. “That’s not normal, Shel. You know that, don’t you?”
The door swung wide and Gabe’s bulk filled the opening. “I’m fine.” His voice bore no room for discussion—even Dad stilled as he stared up at his grandson.
My son no longer resembled a sixteen year boy. Bigger than most blokes, with a tenor deeper than that of most, his eyes carried more wisdom than any man I’d ever dated.
“Please,” Gabe said. “Leave it be.”
We could hardly drag him to the surgery—Gabe could have lifted the pair of us with one hand. With a nod and a mumbled ‘Sure’, we complied.
Again.
To be continued … {the 3rd & final part of Hereditary will be available on Monday 8th over at Diary of a Book Addict}
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AND now, RESONANCE
#2.5 of The Holloway Pack Stories:
Release Date: April 2nd 2013
Title: Resonance
Series: Holloway Pack 2.5
Publisher: J. Taylor Publishing
Blurb:
Guilt is a heavy burden for the one carrying it.
Jem Stonehouse is no exception to this rule.
What if she’d acted sooner? What if she’d fully recognised the threat? What if she hadn’t allowed the male pack members to head into the witches’ ambush?
For one, youngest pack member Josh Larsen wouldn’t be trapped in the sleep of the dead.
Now, Jem is convinced it’s her job to bring him back to life no matter what it takes— learning more about her heritage, risking pack exposure, or travelling to places she couldn’t have imagined possible.
Even if the journey endangers her soul.
*****************************************************
Excerpt:
Whiteness reflected back at me from the ceiling above—a blank canvas of nothingness. For two weeks, I’d spent a few hours each day in the lilac bedroom. For two weeks, I’d prayed for a
miracle. For some kind of enlightenment. Or at the very least, for Jess to find a way to wake up Josh.
Some days, the emptiness dulled my senses to a warble of incoherency. Thankfully, on those days, Sean came to my rescue, reminding me life still existed beyond the four, pale purple walls. Somehow managing to convince me that everything would work out.
If Sean believed Josh would awaken, what right did I have to dispute him?
If the rest of the pack believed, who was I to douse their flames of hope?
Yet, no matter how many hours, how many days, how many weeks I spent at Josh’s side in a show of optimism, the ache in my heart belied any positivity I feigned.
Rolling onto my side caused the mattress to dip, but even that jostle didn’t stir Josh. I flicked at an errant, dark blond curl, poked at his cheek. Still, he didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t acknowledge my prodding.
Again.
Poor kid had probably been poked more in the past fortnight than he had his entire life.
As my heavy sigh eased out, footsteps ascended the stairs outside the room. I knew from sound alone who they belonged to, didn’t even need to inhale to confirm. That didn’t stop me, though, and my lids lowered as my mate’s bouquet found home within my olfactory.
Seconds later, Sean’s body filled the doorway and cast a shadow across the carpet. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I whispered without looking up.
“Anything?”
I tapped my fingertip along Josh’s jawline, willing him to react yet knowing he wouldn’t.
Josh hadn’t moved the entire two weeks he’d been under. Heck, we’d barely moved him. No toileting. No sweating. He didn’t seem to feel, hear, taste, see or smell.
All thanks to being in a death sleep, Jess had said.
I slaughtered the witches responsible for putting Josh under—for bewitching him in the worst possible way. At the time, their deaths had seemed fitting. That had been before I realised Josh’s predicament.
With a small head shake, I rubbed my hand along Josh’s arm as if the friction would help a body lacking in heat. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Thought I heard the turning of rusty cogs.”
My gaze skittered to the left and landed on Sean’s lopsided smile. Dark hair stood on end above dark eyes staring back at me. All male, all muscle, all mine, Sean Holloway got me like no other.
“You going to make me pry it out of you, Jem?”
Rolling my eyes at the suggestiveness of his tone, I brushed a kiss across Josh’s cheek and wriggled off the bed. At the door, I grabbed Sean’s hips and steered him backward across the landing and into our room.
His left eyebrow arched up. “You do want me to pry it out of you.”
I breathed out a laugh as I trotted over to the bed and sat crosslegged, tugging him along with me until he mirrored my pose. Nudging his hand up, I placed my palm flat against his, studying
the size difference as male dwarfed female in a way I rarely noticed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
BUY NOW!
AND
As an added teaser, here’s a random one-liner from the book:
*********************************************
AND ….. WE’RE NOT DONE!
Here’s J.A. Belfield to tell everyone about
The Big Resonance Giveaway!
April 2nd 2013 marked the official release of Resonance upon the world, and yes, Resonance is available to purchase at all of the usual outlets. However, because I love and appreciate my fans so much, I decided to go on a mission to give something back.
Thanks to my super-duper editor, I’ve been granted permission for the following.
My Mission
I vow to give away a FREE copy of Resonance to everyone who submits a valid entry between April 2nd and May 2nd (inclusive).
On top of that, one main-prize winner will receive a Holloway Pack swag-bundle (see image).
So, what do you have to do to enter?
Simples. Read on.
Resonance is, by no means, intended to be read as a standalone. If you haven’t read at least Blue Moon, then you will have absolutely no idea what is happening in Resonance. Also, if you haven’t read Blue Moon, then you will be hit upside the head with one massive spoiler for how the book ends if you read Resonance first.
Here’s the deal. You can enter in any (or all, if you wish) of the following ways:
1)
Post a picture of you with your precious copy or Blue Moon somewhere on the Internet.
It does not have to be a hard copy (paperback); it can be the cover image on the screen of your Kindle/e-reader/reading tablet. No, pdf’s do not count. If you have a pdf, then it’s most probably an illegal copy, and so will only upset me.
Once said picture is posted, link me up so I can see it. If you stick it on FB, then tag me, but remember, I have a space (for some bizarre reason) between my initials on there. So, make sure you use @J. A. Belfield in your tag. NB: There will be a space in the Rafflecopter form to paste in a link to your pic, also, just in case I miss any or the tagging doesn’t work. If you stick it on Twitter, then be sure to mention: @JABelfield so I can see your entry. And if you happen to stick it anywhere else, then be sure to forward a link to the post to j.a.belfield72 at gmail.com and include ‘The Big Resonance Giveaway’ in the subject line.
2)
Post a review for Blue Moon.
Obviously, I’d prefer amazing ones, but I get that my writing won’t jive for everyone, so any review over 100 words will be accepted, even if it doesn’t rave and include 4/5 stars. However, I will read each review carefully (because I always do), and ascertain that I believe the book has actually been read rather than a review being composed out of a rewrite of the blurb (yes, this does happen on occasion).
Where you post your review is up to you. On Goodreads. Amazon. B&N. On your blog. Completely up to you. But the Rafflecopter form will have separate entry options for each of these places, and each one will be included as an entry toward the main prize.
Make sense?
Excellent!
Off you go, go, goooo!
Link to Rafflecopter Website: Rafflecopter
Link to Rafflecopter on Facebook: Rafflecopter on Facebook
or mobile friendly FB link: Rafflecopter Facebook mobile friendly
Author Spotlight: Aimee Laine for SILENT ECHOES
A special treat up on the blog today. Aimee Laine is here to talk about her JUST RELEASED Novel,
Silent Echoes!
Take it away, Aimee!
*********************
Silent Echoes is a “Games of Zeus” novel but it’s not a traditional mythological conundrum. No, as the author, I’ve taken quite the liberties in creating a situation Zeus could have used to mess with we puny humans.
So, to have a little fun as Silent Echoes releases this month, my host here, Laney McMann, has challenged me to create a Game of Zeus out of Chess!
How could Zeus use Chess upon two unsuspecting humans? How could he manipulate a seemingly innocuous game into a maniacal, devious relationship conflict? Oh, let me count the ways … or rather, let me show you.
Chess
The goal? Capture the opponent’s King by advancing chess pieces (pawns, knights, rooks, bishops, queens and kings) across the board (like checkers) in order to battle for the opponents pieces and take over their side of the chess board. Whoever acquires the King, wins.
Before we get to the ultimate Chess-based romance … let me tell you a little about Silent Echoes:
BLURB:
For years, Ian Sands has enjoyed his life as a bachelor, taking advantage of singlehood and exploring his own definition of passion—whoever she may be. Blonde. Brunette. Tall. Short. Hot. Not. Five months ago, all that changed.
Ian’s been celibate, frustrated and desperately seeking answers to why one woman, who doesn’t play by girls’ rules, haunts his every waking moment.
As a renovations specialist, Taylor Marsh lives, works and breathes construction—a profession her southern belle of a mother would rather Taylor not touch. The same goes for Ian; Mama Marsh would never approve of him.
Like Ian, though, each time he and Taylor draw near, something compels her to get closer.
Something else tells her to run away.
Fast.
As much as their histories suggest they shouldn’t be together, neither Taylor nor Ian can deny the pull, and the two succumb, indulging in a relationship that brings pleasure to body, mind and soul.
Doing so, though, also ushers in a series of events both should have foreseen as well as one final outcome neither expected.
CHECK OUT SILENT ECHOES HERE:
And now …
Chess
If the whole goal is to capture the King, that implies the King doesn’t want to be captured. Since this is ‘the norm’, Zeus would automatically make a few rule swaps. First of all … a King not wanting to be captured is only in terms of war. In terms of love … well, okay there, too. But that’s no fun in a love-war! So instead of the King, it’s the Queen who’s going to be the biggest pawn.
Zeus’s ultimate conflict would be to place a deep and desperate need into the Queen, that she DOES want to be captured. Oh yeah. She wants to be captured … but of course, by one and only one guy. And it will have to happen in a prescribed timeframe, by a certain date, or something grave will happen … something that will prevent her from every being ‘captured’ … or in a Games of Zeus story … ever being loved.
So, Zeus will put ‘him’ on one side of the board and ‘her’ on the other. With each step toward each other, something prevents them from getting closer. Pawn : Perhaps a previous romantic partner? King: Perhaps ‘his’ family or a father figure? Knight : The best friend who just can’t let her go or just can’t let him give up who he is to go after her. Bishops? Rooks? You see, all those pieces are players in the story, interwoven to stop the capture of the Queen. To stop the two pieces from reaching each other.
Think about this … ultimately, resolution in this particular type of story can’t ever be a win-win. If he wins, she loses (by standard rules). If she wins … does that mean she is captured? Or she’s changed her mind? You see, that’s the conundrum. By winning, she loses. By losing, she loses, too.
So how can she win?
Oh, I didn’t say I’d answer that. You might just have to read another book.
And there you have it. What do you think? Is Chess a possible Game of Zeus?
********************
Aimee is a romantic at heart and a southern transplant with a bit of the accent (but not a whole bunch). She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and with him, she’s produced three native North Carolinians, two of whom share the same DNA.
With an MBA and a degree in Applied Mathematics, there’s absolutely no reason she should be writing romance novels. Then again, she shouldn’t need a calculator to add two numbers, either … but she does.
You can connect with Aimee on all of her social media sites:
Silent Echoes is an Adult Paranormal Romance/Romance/Suspense/Thriller
Sounds pretty awesome, right?
We Who Make Stories …
“We who make stories know that we tell lies for a living. But they are good lies that say true things, and we owe it to our readers to build them as best we can. Because somewhere out there is someone who needs that story. Someone who will grow up with a different landscape, who without that story will be a different person. And who with that story may have hope, or wisdom, or kindness, or comfort. And that is why we write.”
~Neil Gaiman — The Graveyard Book
** I am a such a Neil Gaiman fan if you guys haven’t noticed.
Neil Gaiman, signing (Photo credit: Jutta @ flickr)
Related articles
- Put One Word After Another: Neil Gaiman’s Eight Rules of Writing (aerogrammestudio.com)
- Neil Gaiman Drops Knowledge (mentalfloss.com)
Wait … Should I Write That?
There is a moment now and then when writers may catch themselves and think … wait, should I write that?
My fellow writer, and friend, Elena Ransley wrote a post titled, Just because I write it, doesn’t mean I did it.
I think her words are both honest and true. There is a fine line writers walk between fiction and fact. Fantasy and reality. So much of who we are is embedded in our stories. Our words, our voices, our hearts … our sometimes crazed imaginations. Elena writes, ”Just because you write about an axe murderer, doesn’t mean you are slightly unhinged and could lose it and carry out your protagonists actions in the middle of the night – just because you think it, doesn’t mean you would do it.”
People judge you as a person when you put your stories out there. And we can judge ourselves as words fly from our fingertips in a flurry of ideas. Whether you write horror or paranormal romance, people will either love your work and sing your praises, or wonder if you are indeed unhinged.
Does it matter? As a writer who has chosen to share their work with the world–it probably shouldn’t. It’s the risk you take when you decide to go public. It’s the reason every writer hears those few words of caution, “Grow a thick skin. You’re going to need it.”
Not everyone will praise or even like your work. Some people may hate your genre, your ideas–your imagination. And they will judge you. But we can’t please everyone and we can only write what moves us and hope our words resonate with readers.
So I leave you with this to ponder:
“Writers are not just people who sit down and write. They hazard themselves. Every time you compose a book your composition of yourself is at stake.” ~E.L. Doctorow
So the question is, Are you willing to put yourself out there? It’s the risk all writers have to take. The difference between owning what you love and hiding it. The difference between being public or private. Published or tucked away in a drawer.
SO WRITE ON WRITERS. Take your best shot.
*** Re-posted from April 2012 ***
The Next Big Thing Blog Hop!
Light the fireworks: http://www.shotsforpassion.com – New domain name for my blog! (Photo credit: Shots For Passion)
Here’s how the THE NEXT BIG THING blog hop works. I get tagged to answer a bunch of question about my current book, (while simulataneously getting more word out), thanks to J.A. Belfield for the tip, and then I tag YOU, and you get to share in the love on your own blog to get the word out about YOUR WIP.
I’m supposed to tag eleven bloggers, but I’m cheating a little and tagging all of you who have WIP’s to play. Why? Because there are a lot of you. Yay me.
I questioned being involved in the hop considering my current WIP is kind of under wraps, while my current finished book is on its way to publication–but, I thought this would be fun.
SO …. I’m going to pretend that my current finished novel is actually a WIP–even though it’s not. K? K!
Here goes:
What is the working title of your book?
The title of my book is TIED, and it’s the first book in The Fire Born Novels series.
Where did the idea come from for the book?
This is one of those questions that’s hard to answer. Ideas sort of pop into my head and I run with them. Some work, some don’t–The Fire Born worked.
What is the genre of your book?
I write young adult dark/urban fantasy, paranormal romance, with bit of mythology mixed in.
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
No clue. If I had to choose, it would probably be from people who aren’t even actors. I think it’s really hard to peg the right face/personality to a character you’ve dreamed up in your head.
What in one sentence is the synopsis of your book?
Yikes! Honestly, I don’t even think I’m allowed to tell you guys that yet—-under contract and all that. BUT–soon, so very soon.;) So, I’ll leave you with the hook that’s flying around on all my social media pages:
How far would you go … to protect the one you love?
Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency/publisher?
All of The Fire Born Novels will be published by J. Taylor Publishing.
How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
Hm … first draft took three months. All subsequent drafts took — forever. Seriously. A longgg time.
What other books would you compare this story to in your genre?
I wouldn’t. Funny–I was just thinking about this. My play off fantasy and paranormal feels a bit different than what I read–and I read a lot. I guess the readers will have to decide ultimately. But, my intention is always to speak from my own voice and let it roll. Whatever comes, comes. I’m not aiming to compare my books to anyone else’s.
Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Another loaded question that’s difficult to answer. I’m not sure that any one particular thing inspired me, necessarily. A ton of factors led me to continue to write this book and see it through to the end. Not all my novels have made it to completion. TIED spoke to me in a way nothing else has. So I guess you could say, the story itself inspired me.
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
The blurb will be out very soon, and I can’t spoil that, so I’ll just say that if the hook I mentioned before intrigues you–just wait
*** That’s it for me. Anyone want to jump in and let us know what all your blood, sweat and tears are pouring into? Leave me a link so I can check your book out!! ***
Cliffhangers
Rock climbing stanage (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Cliffhangers.
Some readers hate them, while others love them–especially fans of a series. Cliffhangers keep the story moving forward from book to book. They have the ability to leave the reader wanting more.
Or … less.
Some readers get so furious when a story leaves them hanging that they give up on the series entirely. The majority, however, cling to the book, wanting more, more, more!
So, as a reader, do you hate a cliffhanger ending, or do you love them?
Still Aspiring?
Aspire: to long, aim, or seek for.
Aspire is one of those words with an embedded escape clause.
“If I really suck at this, or if I just give up, it won’t matter because I’m only aspiring.”
GHAACK!
Do you love to write? Does it speak to you?
Then WRITE.
Aspiring isn’t goal setting. It’s an escape hatch. It is scribble, scribble, blah, blah … What was I talking about?
If you want to write then write. If you want to become an author work your ass off at it. It’s hard and it will make you want to scream one second and cry the next. But writers write. It’s what we do. Don’t be afraid to put a label on it.
~ Author Unknown
You Must Be Prepared …
“You must be prepared to work always without applause.”
~Ernest Hemingway
English: Hemingway posing for a dust jacket photo by Lloyd Arnold for the first edition of “For Whom the Bell Tolls”, at the Sun Valley Lodge, Idaho, late 1939. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
What’s In Being A Contracted Author?
Our computers (Photo credit: aranarth)
Fear.
Yep, I said that.
Getting a publishing contract is everything you’ve wanted, everything you’ve worked your ass off for, and when you sign on the dotted line, everything you’re afraid of.
It’s a truth I think a lot of authors keep under wraps because some days when you sit staring at your story, the one that has a deadline attached to it now, the one that needs to be as close to perfect as you can make it—some days, it can feel like you’ve signed yourself up to fail. The days when nothing makes sense and you wonder who in their right mind, including yourself, ever thought your story could actually sell. The days when fear seeps in and hangs on.
From the legalese of contracts, to the swell of accomplishment in your chest that is almost immediately replaced by the tightening of panic, to the real edits and real deadlines, being a contracted, and soon to be published, author is both thrilling and terrifying.
But, in those split seconds when rays of light shine through the blinds in your mind, it is incredibly gratifying. The times when, for once, there are no blue, red, or green edits marking up your pages and your comments come back with “Great!” instead of “Huh?” or “Powerful.” instead of “Make it clearer.” Those are the days when every drop of doubt and ounce of fear is worth it. The days when you’re proud as hell. Maybe they’re far and few between, but those rays of light keep the writing fire burning bright and remind you that you should feel proud, maybe even excited–even if only for a second.
Anything Is Possible …
“Anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”
~ J. K. Rowling
English: J. K. Rowling, after receiving an honorary degree from The University of Aberdeen (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Writers Who Are Readers and Readers Who Are Writers
Which one are you?
I’m the latter. Definitely.
Although I’ve always written, my love of the written word began before my sentence structure did. My imagination of worlds far and beyond sparked at a very young age. Writing the stories I imagined in my own head, came later.
Books (Photo credit: henry…)
I realized recently, after having a conversation with a fellow writer, just how different the above breeds of writers can be. When I began my novel and truly delved into learning craft, I found reading for my usual enjoyment difficult, and suddenly lacking. Instead of the story I saw sentence structure, grammar use. I would hear myself questioning the decisions the author made and wondering what I would have done differently. I couldn’t see the stories anymore. I’d lost the magical quality that had originally turned me on to writing. I’d lost what I craved most. The story.
Writers who are readers pick stories apart. Readers who are writers, read. For the sheer enjoyment of it. To be transported. To live in someone else’s shoes.
I learned that when you are only looking for errors, they are all you will ever see. And when you are editing your book as a writer, they are all you should see. But when all of that is done–you should see your story.
Now, I have to shut off the writer brain (as hard as that is sometimes) and turn on the reader one. If I don’t, I find myself reading as I would a text book. But if I do… I remember why I love to read. Why I love to write, too. I have worlds I want to share. Characters and plots. I have to stories to share. That’s the aim, right? To share good stories? And at the end of the day, after all the edits are done and proofreads have been finished, I want to be able to read my book through the eyes of a reader. If I can’t do that — if I can’t still feel the emotion that sat me in front of the laptop for months on end — if I can’t see and feel what I need the reader to see and feel — well, what exactly have I been doing? Remember that readers read because they want to be carried away. You need to see your book not only through your eyes as a writer, but more importantly, through the eyes of your readers. They are the ones who matter. They are the ones who will make or break you as an author. Every single time. And readers, the vast majority of them, are story cravers, not editors, not writers, just readers.
Write the best book you can. Get the best editor you can. Nit pick the crap out every tiny detail in your novel. Then go back and read it. And remember why you wrote it in the first place. The best grammar in the world will not save a crappy story. But…an awesome story will trump a few overlooked grammatical errors. Check out some book on the best sellers list. Readers aren’t looking for perfect. They aren’t looking for the same things writers are. They’re looking for that one story that digs into their soul. The one story they can’t stop thinking about. The one they read over and over again. That’s the book we as writers should be writing.
WRITE ON, WRITERS! And tell your stories.
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What’s In An Editor? (Why Do I Sound Like An Adult?)
I tend to scribble a lot (Photo credit: Unhindered by Talent)
Young Adult fantasy novels are my first go-to on reading shelves. My first love of books in general. I write them too. Pretty well, I think. At least in content, anyway. 
Sometimes, however, “Laney, YA writer” gets crossed with “Laney … well, Laney.”
Why do I sound like an adult sometimes when I write? Besides the fact that I am one, I get caught up in the flurry of the story–action scenes, love scenes– and I occasionally forget contractions and ‘teen speak’, as my editor calls it. When I’m on a writing roll, I write what I see in my head. The words kind of disappear. Strange? Maybe so.
Stories read like moving pictures for me. Like a blur of color. My editor slows the view down so I can see what’s staring back at me from the screen. It’s an invaluable tool.
Writers need editor’s eyes. They are programmed to see what we miss. Although, sometimes it may feel nit picky or overwhelming–we need to use it, learn from it.
My story reads tighter, cleaner … better. As far as I’m concerned, the frustration that can come from full-blown edits are worth every ounce of hair pulling and head banging. The goal is to produce the best story I can. Even if that means cringing every time I open a document to find blue ink covering my pages.
It’s Official!
I can finally talk again and share my big news! Details below:
Laney McMann signs three-book contract with J. Taylor Publishing for her Fire Born trilogy, a dark, Young Adult Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance series, including TIED, TORN and TRUE.
Apex, NC – October 24, 2012 - With a passion for the supernatural and all things magical, Laney McMann developed a voracious appetite for reading fantasy at a young age. By the time she reached her teens, Laney had accumulated notebooks full of poems which led to short stories and finally novels, specifically in the young adult dark fantasy, paranormal romance, and mythology genres.
“A lifelong love of writing fantasy led me to write TIED, ” says Laney. “TORN and TRUE naturally followed.”
That love of writing brought her to J. Taylor Publishing. “The premise of the Fire Borns compelled us to read TIED, the first of the trilogy, ” says J. Taylor Publishing, adding, “and the romantic possibilities, and intrinsic conflict placed up on the main characters won us over. We had absolutely no hesitation contracting this work.”
Figuring out life is a tremendous element in many young adult novels, and TIED is no different as it explores the facets of growing up, discovering oneself and deciding what parts of a future are important to the main characters.
”The tie in to lesser-known mythology truly captured our attention,” says J. Taylor Publishing. “We’re very excited to add another YA novel to our catalog and expect adults and teens alike will enjoy this series.”
TIED is planned for release in September 2013 with, TORN in late 2014 and TRUE to follow one year later.
About the Publisher
J. Taylor Publishing is an Independent Publisher who, thanks to the Internet, has a worldwide reach. Our debut authors are in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada. The company produces print and electronic books. For more information about J. Taylor Publishing, please visit www.jtaylorpublishing.com.
Be Yourself…
“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”
~ Oscar Wilde
English: Oscar Wilde, three-quarter length portrait, facing front, seated, leaning forward, left elbow resting on knee, hand to chin, holding walking stick in right hand, wearing coat. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
SQUEE!
UPCOMING NEWS IS ON THE WAY REGARDING TIED! *SQUEEEE*
Gemini at Cedar Point is a steel hybrid roller coaster using steel track on a wooden structure. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
