A Change of Plans

*BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA*

*cough*

So I started this March Madness thing with ONE book I intended to write... and I wrote Friday, and I wrote Saturday. And I found I was even boring MYSELF trying to force this thing out... I've come to the conclusion it just really needs a lot more stewing than it's had.

Flathead Lake, Montana (my setting)

What is this STEW I speak of?

This is normal for me. I have ideas with some regularity. In fact I put all those ideas in a spread sheet last week, and in addition to the five 'I will write this book' ideas I had on my writing project list, I had another thirty ideas written in some detail, about half of which I think are viable writing projects. But the ideas that work BEST are ideas I have that rattle around in my head a while, then marry new ideas, and sometimes even MORE ideas, until suddenly I have a nice, happily complex plan.

So after forcing out 5000 words of Shooter (which will be named something else), I decided to go with the one I felt compelled to start last week that has been niggling my brain for almost two years now.

Has anyone seen this?

Behind Endangered

Some of you may have heard me talk about the Tomorrow book series by James Marsden. It begins with Tomorrow When the War Began and is about a group of Australian teens who go camping when school gets out... and when they come home, their home town (all of Australia, actually) has been invaded. They become secret guerilla warriors fighting against the (always unnamed, but foreign) invaders. The series caused me to have vivid dreams and my imagination was captivated by the idea of something in the US with similar flavors since then. (and this was before I was even actively writing)--I'd love to see the movie version of this—or is it a TV series? Has anyone seen it?

The next piece of the puzzle happened when my husband was working in his home health job. We only had one car, and he worked 12 hour days... and on the weekend, I definitely didn't want to get up and take him at 7 am, so I was walking to pick up the car at about ten in the morning and a helicopter went over. We normally see the Michigan Life Flight helicopters with some regularity, but other than that, they are a game day only kind of thing. This isn't Portland where every news station has it's own hovering a couple times a day. We're a suburb where it just isn't that common. It was a little weird... I felt very exposed, and I got home and write the first chapter of this book... I knew I wasn't going to write any MORE of it for a while, but I had a flavor... a set up... a feeling of what the first moments would be like if we were invaded.

The book went on my list of possible options, but I kept feeling like I really needed more to it. I wasn't ready for the story... and then last weekend I had one of those wacky dreams that get the ball rolling. By the time I was out of the shower I realized it was a second strand to THIS story, so I came down and got on the computer and started it... Then in my files of potential stories, I found my third strand.

So now I have three primary characters (two of them with siblings), all of whom will meet up in the mountains of Montana by Flathead Lake... and will need to be warriors of sorts (mountain guerillas--see there is the play on words that gets me to 'endangered'), in this brave new world. I don't have my ending yet, which makes me a little nervous. I definitely prefer to know how the story ends, or I can end up with a big floppy thing to sort out, but I will try to put in my thought on that early this month so I figure it out before I get there.

ReadySetGasm

So you know how I love to PLAN? BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *cough*

And you know how today I'm starting a new BOOK? (Actually, I wrote the first page the other night and a few more last night, since it's not officially a WriMo annallat, so it's not cheating, but March Madness starts today so I'm going to TREAT MARCH like it's a WriMo... I'll call it the MadWriMo...) So last night I got to PLAN! BUWAHAHAHAHA! I am calling it Shooter. That name may change, as it is less about the shooter in a school shooting, and more about another character, but the shooting IS central to the plot... I will leave it at that for now.

My Plan *BUWAHAHAHAHAHA* consists of:

Overkill? I plot goal against actual. This is from an old WriMo

* A formatted word doc with that first pages typed in (that stuff I already wrote—almost 800 words)

* A spreadsheet with daily wordcount goals. For this, I adjusted an old one... I plan on more words on the weekend than during the week, and I always front load, since you never know when stuff might come up and break your flow.

* A timeline with the primary events of the story. Now... I did a chapter by chapter a while back, but I've changed my mind since then... I was including more PoVs because it was a big story, but I have nailed an MC who can be at the center of unearthing most of this, so I think I will stick mostly with her. I will probably have scenes here and there from the 'villain'

* Notes. I have that original outliney thing... a character page... a plots note page... the reworked post-outliney page... my NEW timeliney thing (this one not as thorough, I tend to do some detours in a WriMo, so it is better to build in a little flexibility)

I love getting all this stuff ready... it PLEASES ME!


In Other News:

Not here yet (read: will never be here again)

This is also the start of Month 3 on the Eating/Fitness plan. I still haven't managed to add much more exercise in (though remember I walk to and from work, which totals about 4.5 miles a day), but I DID find my 5 pound hand weights—critical, since one of the 6.5 pound ones seems to have disappeared into the ether. And I HAVE used THOSE a couple times... easy to pick up when I watch a little telivision (I'm rewatching all the Game of Thrones before season 3 starts at the end of the month... 8 episodes to go—2 a week fits perfectly with my laundry folding schedule if I fold real slow)

My EATING, I've done much better on. And I think my improved sleep habits have helped, too. I've lost 17 pounds (putting me at where I started 2012--undoing the damage of my miserable year, but also about 10 pounds below the summer before that (I had just briefly lost weight that fall--can you tell this is a topic that obsesses me?)  so far and 8 inches if I add the waist, hip and butt measurements. So that is good... progress... never mind that it will STILL be late fall before I reach goal... I am losing at a good pace and not miserable. Just impatient.

Best of luck to all who are joining us for March Madness!!! GOOOOOOOOO!

Back Sides We Can Get Behind

MAN am I ready to see February's backside. I thought to celebrate the LAST of Digressuary, that perhaps we were overdue on a little manbutt fest...

The lovely butt of a thoughtful man...

A man who knows how to WORK IT

A strong man (look at that definition!)

If you like a little something edgy...

This one looks handy...

And you KNOW a man who can work Hello Kitty knows how to play...

That's all... no coherent thoughts today... just appreciating the back end... Adios February! And nice work Digressuary, in trying to distract us.

Anybody ready for your March Madness Project... Ready... SET...

My Amazing Invention

Okay, so FIRST, so I'm not negligent, I have to throw out a HUGE Happy Birthday to Leanne!  She is fellow Burrower and has been my VERY most reliable beta reader ever since the beginning.  I am posting otters and hedgehogs and stuff over at Burrowers, Books and Balderdash in her honor...

And now back to my brilliance... erm.

Okay, so it hasn't been invented, but it's a FABULOUS idea, and if one of YOU know how to invent it and then share the money from it, that would be EXCELLENT!

So do you want to know what it is? Well I'll tell you in a minute, but first I need a brief digression to tell you where it came from!!!


So this weekend I decided to do a little organizing. I know, scary, right? But one of the things I organized, because I'm pretty sure SOMEWHERE I have written a piece of something that I felt compelled to write ANOTHER part of... so I was putting these pieces of paper with 'book ideas' in a spreadsheet, and I found this thing that I have NO CLUE what the book I intended was meant to be, but MAN, for a product it's AMAZING!

*cough *

So here goes the clip that holds the idea...

Machu Picchu, Peru

It started with an assignment for the fitness magazine I was writing for. I was to go to GenWorld and test the new Virtual Elliptical, a machine that allowed the exerciser to experience the halls of Greece, the shores of the Pacific, the hike to Machu Picchu, all from the safety (and climate control) of a high-end gym. A person could even travel back in time and jog next to the Berlin wall, or traverse the outskirts of famous battles. I'd been lucky to get the assignment.

I arrived at GenWorld and first received a brief tour of their concept room and had an orientation to the machine and software.

“If you see a turn you want to take, you can take it. An attractive jogger you'd like to follow? Be my guest, but you have to keep up with them unless you call out for them to slow down.”

He was teasing me. I know he didn't expect me to run somebody down while I was here on assignment. And then it registered. “I can talk to people?”

“Of course you can. Fully visually and auditorially interactive, though to change directions, you need the lever, as your feet are on the set, rotating platforms of the elliptical machine. Resistance though, will change as you climb or go down... it even mimics sand. We tried to make it as realistic as possible.”

They have this microscreen version (NOT the same)

“And the music?”

“Works like an iPod. In fact you can plug your own iPod in, or we can select the music appropriate to the location. To talk to people, you need to turn it down, just like when you are wearing headphones.”

It sounded like a dream device. I climbed on, put on the headset that was far less cumbersome than I'd imagined, and began the machine.


****
Okay, that's where I'm leaving the writing clip. I don't share anything from first draft very often, but all I was really trying to get across was the set-up... I imagine the plot meant to have... somebody USE the system to hide a clue and solve some international drama or something, but all I have is the scene...

But imagine this, too: as authors, we could collaborate with our BOOK settings, so people could exercise in the midst of the world our book takes place in. Wouldn't that rock?

You could run the walls of the Red Keep

Or the streets of Diagon Alley

Or run from orcs... seems pretty motivating to me...

Be sure and email me if you decide to execute this as a real product. You totally need my twisted mind involved.

You have any inventions lately?

March Madness, Redefined

Because I can't call it spring cleaning... that would imply I LIKED cleaning... Besides, my own version won't be cleaning at ALL...

What am I on about?


Who has a project that is sitting UNFINISHED?
Do you have a book that is partway done?
Got an editing job that badly needs doing?
A book you need to write NOW or it's going to make you CRAZY?

BECAUSE WE KNOW CRAZY!!!!!


A couple of my fellow Burrowers were talking, cuz you know like... itzwhatwedo, yeah? And TARA needs to write her second in a series... and I strong-armed Leanne into editing her Cozy Mystery, and I have a timely book idea that WILL NOT LET ME BE... and we decided March would be our month... with hard deadline for DONE DONE before we reach June and have BuNoWriMo, in which we will ALL be writing.

We threw out the idea and have a couple takers... people who need to finish books..., So I know Theresa and Adina are in... but I thought how could all of YOU KNOW if I don't announce it HERE?

So if YOU have a project that needs a giant PUSH to get done, and you do better under the adrenaline of doing it in a group, we will be keeping pace on Facebook in the BuNoWriMo group (just request to join, I'll add you) 

You're officially invited!!!

My Dog is Prejudiced

We have FINALLY reached the last week of Digressuary: Thank Digression for THAT! GAH! So I thought I would share with you an observation I've made...

My Dog is prejudiced. Seriously.

Some dogs can be finicky, I get that. But Joel can be downright peevish. There are people he does and doesn't like... And dogs he does and doesn't like. And when he doesn't like someone, he is sort of a butt.


Now the people aren't so hard to figure out. He is a small dog... short more than lean... in fact only short... short and thickish... (so who can blame him for feeling like much of the world has it out for him, eh?) And so he likes people who are small... child-sized... toddlers are best... and he likes people who are patient enough to let HIM warm up FIRST.

Dogs, on the other hand, were sort of a mystery... some (few) dogs he's friendly with, most he ignores, and a couple he is REALLY SNOTTY to... and last night on my walk I figured it out. My dog hates spaniels. He's racist. I'm so embarrassed.

My husband and I have never talked poorly of spaniels in our home. I mean admittedly, we've never HAD one, but we are FRIENDS with some. We don't snub them.

So I started thinking... see, Joel is part Corgi... and the QUEEN has Corgis... I wonder if he's feeling a royal superiority thing... if what he actually is is CLASSIST. I mean spaniels are dogs of commoners, yes? To test this, I will have to introduce him the the King Charles Spaniel around the corner, as if it's a classist thing, that particular breed ought to get a pass.

Whatever the case, I am thinking it is time to take up some sensitivity training with Joel. If he doesn't shape up soon, I might even have to tell him he's adopted.

He's pouting about being photographed in his safe place... I haven't scolded him yet...

The Truth About Letting Go: A Review

You guys know Leigh is one of my Thursday twins, yeah? Born the fourth Thursday in June? And as such, we have a great deal in common, but Leigh is undoubtedly far sweeter and more down to earth than I am. She is also a more attractive and better-mannered date, I can assure you, though she does have a silly streak. (She is also a little more neurotic, but everybody needs a foible, yes?). Seriously, though, she is one of my favorite people, and we've been critique partners for... has it been two year? I think it has; several books, anyway, so I had the good fortune to read an earlier draft of The Truth About Letting Go, which releases TODAY!!!

So I'm going to share a review today, along with some links so YOU can go buy it, too!!!

To Numb The Pain

Ashley's father the health-nut and local newspaper personality has just died of cancer. Ashley is devastated at the loss... and angry at the unfairness of it... and angry at her mother for coping so poorly... Her formerly idyllic (if slightly shallow) life is in shambles, and what she really wants to do is numb the pain with a little self-destructive behavior.

As she tries to cope, or rather avoid coping, she meets three new friends, two of whom she probably wouldn't have given the time of day before, but who might give her a little perspective, if she'd let them, and one, Colt, who is more than happy to burn up destruction trail, dragging her in his wake.

I loved the honesty of this tale. I lost my own dad when I was young, so the emotions and maladaptive temptation to dive into narcissism struck me as very real. The characters are well-drawn and I think Ashley's struggle and the back-and-forth she has to work through before she finally realizes what each decision means is very well written.

I think this book is relatable, and will appeal not just to teens who've lost someone, but also those struggling with the temptations because of other of life's hardships.


If you want to find Leigh, you can find her:

Blog: That's Write
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads

And if you want to buy her book, you can go to:

Amazon
Barnes and Noble

(and you should)

Happy Naked Thursday, friends!!!

Wonky Dreams and Immortality

Yes, it is STILL Digressuary... the month that never ends, but at least we are digressing.

So the other night I had this crazy time travel dream... future self me (who looked remarkably like current me, but never mind) had traveled back over many generations (not sure how THAT works, either) with a task to change an event that would improve the future...

And the bad news is I didn't arrive via Tardis... I must have had one of those wristy-mabobs Captain Jack Harkniss wears.

The event was to get a really rotten guy arrested and thrown in jail before he could begin some genocidal rampage... I know, worthy cause, right!?

And being a writer, I figured my best chance at influencing this event was to write the guy into a book so everybody would KNOW what he was up to... but see I didn't know much about what he was up to, because it was CURRENT self who had to DO this darned task... future self was just telling me to do it...

So I decided... if it's good enough to get Al Capone, it should work for me... I wrote the details of that bastard's tax evasion. Hid it away in a book... so it would be found when needed... or could just enter the mainstream consciousness so everybody just KNEW...

You know how dreams are... it made sense at the time.


So if YOU were to jump back through time, what would YOU change if you could?


And what the heck does this have to do with immortality?

See... people sometimes ask us why we write... and I think of myself pouring over boxes of old books... books in attics, books in used book stores, books ANYWHERE. There aren't many things I love quite as much as old books... And I want to have MY books end up in those boxes... be found 50 or 100 years from now by some person who may never have heard of me, but takes a peek... It is like time travel and immortality all rolled into one.

Anybody else have plans for immortality?

Egomania

*Insert cackling here*

So I've seen some quotes and memes and angst this weekend that have got me thinking about the writer's ego... and whether it is good, bad, or it depends entirely on the moment at hand...

Do first, let me say... Freud adopted the term ego for the organized, realistic part of the self... But we seem to use the term for the more self-aggrandizing component... And egomaniac, is NOT a person who goes around making things more orderly. Unless he does so by making himself emperor and forcing others to do all the work...

But what is egos role in ART? The confidence to be the SELF rather than copying some other artist? The belief we are creating something worth while? That sounds GOOD, right? Necessary, even.

But then there is this...

If we are so confident in ourSELF, then we sometimes fail to LEARN. We assume our way is the right way... the only way... The discussion, when the sign was posted, was about schools... one of the people mentioned art students where she went to school who came in so convinced they had it all just right that they wouldn't learn from the instructors or fellow students.

Then again, my first thought on seeing the sign was I knew far MORE people who lacked the confidence to put themselves OUT THERE. They had a passion for a craft and worked away at it, but didn't feel able to SHARE because they didn't think they had what it took.


Writing is a funny, wonky path that I think for most of us bounces us back between soul-searching insecurity (I'm not worthy!!!) and grandiose ego (that boneheaded critic just doesn't GET me) and I think BOTH extremes can hurt us, but there is also a time for both.

I think all of us go through phases we are in love with our books. And I think OFTEN with our FIRST book, we are convinced it just emerged perfectly from our mind... we are sure it is ready AS IS for publication. This is one of the reasons I still really like the traditional process--a lot of people (me included) really needed to be pounded with that reality check. As with anything... the more we learn, the more we realize that we really don't know... and we get more humble as we improve... oh, irony.

I've spent the last several weeks editing, and am feeling very UNWORTHY at the moment. I read through and think, “that's stupid... anyone would read that and think what a strained scenario that is... why on earth do I feel compelled to put EVERY MEAL in the damn book? You've got to be KIDDING!

But see the plus side of feeling so DOWN about it is I really DO spot some big stuff that needs changing... and it opens my mind for the SERIOUS HELP I plan on pleading from a few readers.

But I CAN'T let the fear be so great that I don't even show it to anyone...

And when I get that feedback, I sure as heck better be in a frame of mind to HEAR the suggestions. The suggestions aren't always exactly right, but the SPOT for suggestion usually is... if the suggestion is made, then something isn't working...

FIX IT, THEN let that darned ego take over and send it out to see if anyone wants it...


One of my very talented friends was lamenting her current work... feeling she didn't know if it was even decent... man... she's got a MOVIE DEAL... she should NOT be feeling that level of insecurity... but maybe that level of insecurity is because she holds herself to such a high standard.
So it's all over... Just breathe, my friends... it is all part of the process.

Taking My Knocks

And SHEEEEEEEE's OUT!

Oh, it's just part of the process... From everything we could tell, the YA category in the Amazon contest this year looked the most densely populated, and since 400 were picked from EVERY category, that means YA is where the competition was stiffest... My pitch was as good as I could make it...

Oh, I could engage in conspiracy theories... (I did notice VERY few H names made it through YA... stingy scorer?  could be... but I might have BENEFITED from NOT being in that group the last two years... there is always some chance to it). I have read a couple YA that made it in... and they are good, but they are also qualitatively different... maybe a little perkier?

So I spent a good part of yesterday pouting a bit... (no mention of big girl panties, please... you know my feelings on pants)

One, two, three... UP!

I will comfort myself with my good company... and maybe some fantasies about a brigade of men in kilts...

I know I am in good company, as I had some talented friends ALSO knocked out...


Okay, over that.

TODAY really ought to be celebrating our talented friends who are IN.

Congratulations to blogger friends:

Leigh Moore with Rouge!
Carolyn Abiad with Burnt Amber
Theresa Milstein with Sorceress Sisters

And also to some longtime ABNA friends:

Janet Oakley with Timber Rose
Sue Maynard with Suffer the Fury
Becky Kyle with Ms. President
Lisa Koosis with The Road of the Dead
Dwight Okita with The Hope Store
Sylvia Jefferson with The Agreement
Diana Wilder with The City of Refuge
Robert Leland Taylor with Holy Toledo and the Virgin Shirley

(okay, confess... who snorted when you saw Robert's title?)  I'm sure there are bunches more who made it. I go a little cross-eyed looking at lists... and I have a few friends I only know by first name.

So lets make a toast to these fabulous friends and the others who pass on and call it good. May they keep progressing!


In Other News:

Eating stuff going good... was down 11 pounds at the 6 week weigh-in (Tuesday).

Making polishing progress...

This is good... always good to have a bite of humble pie now and then...

And that is what I can manage today... so there...

Oh... and happy Valentine's Day... But please only PRETEND to massacre people in honor...

erm... (what?)

The Burrow is EXPECTING!!!

Jess, Leanne, me, Tara, Mari: Cardiff 2008

The Burrow, as some of you may know, is my writing group. We are CALLED the Burrow because we were originally a band of writers who met through the now defunct Harry Potter forum HPANA. I've known several of these women since 2005 and MOST by 2006 when I first dived into fan fiction for my training ground as a writer.

And TARA, was my very first ever random reader—the reader who wandered in and read even though she didn't know me from a hole in the internets. She was encouraging, enthusiastic, and fabulous.

Our actual writing group formed initially in 2007... I had written four chapters at that point of what would eventually be my first 204,000 word (I know, right?) first original book. (I was still writing my second long fan fiction—and there would be a 3rd before I sort of let that fall away).

preparing for a French taunting at Cardiff Castle

That group has done several writing related projects, mostly drabble-related. We even convinced an art gallery in Cardiff to display our drabbles with their artwork for an event (that is where we got together—Cardiff). And we've critiqued the books we've worked on for each other. As we've gone, I've sometimes felt guilty. Being me, I do something obsessively or not at all, and I have been on a full-scale writing train since I started—7.5 years now, I've done something writing related almost daily. This means there was a lot of 'read me, read me' from ME and less from other folks. But we HAVE produced other books besides mine.

And FINALLY, one of my writing family members has been offered a well-deserved publishing contract!!!

Working cover, designed by our friend Ana

Tara wrote Cardiffella in a WriMo, and then has spent some good time polishing, adding, revising, getting feedback--all those things a person needs to do... and now it is set for eBook publication in April (to be followed by print on demand availability a few months later).

As the title implies, it is a twist on Cinderella, set in modern day Cardiff, and is funnier than funny. You will definitely want to keep your eyes peeled for this. (does anybody else have eyes that water when you hear 'eyes peeled'? Just me then?)

Anyway, I'm THRILLED for Tara, and excited for the Burrow, and a little giddy because that's how I roll.

And here are a few more gratuitous pictures of us...

Sassing at the Taff (the river that swears a lot)

And here we are, in touch with our roots (note Hogwarts scarves-knitted by Leanne on the left)

It's probably apparent from these what a shrinking violet I am *shifty*  In my defense, I AM trying to take over the world.

Feliz Snakelianos de agua...

Erm... Or something. It's probably good I don't speak a word of Chinese, because that would be even less intelligible.

So what am I on about?

Yesterday, which I don't remember the word for in Spanish (ayer?), not that that matters, since this has nothing to do with Spanish except in my ability to mangle a title... but yesterday was the Chinese New Year... and THIS YEAR is the year of the SNAKE (specifically, the water snake)!!! (get it now?)

So what does that mean for everybody?

Well that depends what sign YOU were born under and how compatible that is with snakes. As a horse, I'm not particularly hopeful, as snakes are known to spook horses... but so is pretty much anything small. I got thrown from a horse once because of a rabbit. Wasn't a particularly scary rabbit... just one that moved fast and startled the horse.

This is a broad band water snake: you don't suppose he gets WiFi?

But water snakes are creative, intelligent, compassionate... all sorts of good stuff. So you can put away any snakiphobia you have about it. Snakes are charming, but the water snake seems a little more... real—less enchanter, more reality based. Not that we go in much for reality around here, but some of those snakes can be pretty freaky. Oprah is a water snake, which surely you ALL find reassuring.

So wishing you all a magical, amazing year!!!


In OTHER News...

I finished BIG EDIT for What Ales Me (my first shake at editing a book, I do small edit with notes, BIG EDIT where I address all the big things the notes pointed out, then SMOOTHING). So today I start smoothing. I have one reader lined up, but if anybody else is interested in a developmental read of it (micro-brew, Portland based)--developmental means NOT line editing, just notes of the big stuff—what is working, what isn't, spot any plot holes or missed opportunities..., I'd love another reader or two. Ideally it will be ready for that in maybe 7-10 days.

I have a HUGE HUGE exciting thing happening to a friend. But I can't tell you. *ducks*
(I will shout as soon as I can)

Two days left to first ABNA cuts... so that's something...

Cover Love: New and Coming

So I got to talking with Laura Howard this week and realized she was in the midst of a Cover Reveal Blitz! Here is the scoop:

Title: The Forgotten Ones
Author: Laura Howard
Genre: NA Paranormal Fantasy Romance
Expected release date: May 15, 2013
Age Group: New Adult
Cover Designer: Stephanie Mooney 

(Isn't it fabulous! I love how it looks like the flowers are floating up around her.) Wanna know more about the book? Here's the blurb!

Allison O'Malley just graduated from college. Her life's plan is to get a job and take care of her schizophrenic mother. She doesn't have room for friends or even Ethan, who clearly wants more.

When Allison's long-lost father shows up, he claims he can bring her mother back from the dark place her mind has sent her. He reveals legends of a race of people long forgotten, the Tuatha de Danaan, along with the truth about why he abandoned her mother.

Laura is a mother of four who has loved stories her whole life (and got her writer legs steady with fan fiction, like moi). She blogs largely to help other writers get their bearings and succeed. This will be her first book.









And... something I've been totally negligent on, meaning to include, and it's OUT NOW... From our beloved Jessica... THE BOOK Already available and very intriguing sounding!

This book is not The Book. The Book is in this book. And The Book in this book is both
the goodie and the baddie.

Bonnie is five. She wants to bury The Book because it is a demon that should go to hell. Penny, Bonnie’s mother, does bury The Book, but every day she digs it up and writes in it. John, Bonnie’s father, doesn’t live with them anymore. But he still likes to write in it from time to time. Ted, Bonnie’s stepfather, would like to write in The Book, but Penny won’t allow it.

To Bonnie, The Book is sadness.

To Penny, The Book is liberation.

To John, The Book is forgiveness.

To Ted, The Book is envy.

But The Book in this book isn’t what it seems at all.

If there was one thing in this world you wished you could hold in your hand, what would it be? The world bets it would be The Book.


So one to buy, one to look forward to! How's that!?

I'm Schrodinger's Cat

Welcome to Digressuary 6

What the heck am I on about Schrodinger's Cat for? Because of course it is first Wednesday, and therefore the day we have Insecure Writers Support Group. And I'm feeling... perhaps insecure...


See, it's like this...

No, lemme back up. What is Schrodinger's Cat?

Schrodinger was a mean rotten scientist that liked to make people imagine horrible things for the purpose of stretching their wee brains philosophically.

It goes something like this:

There is a cat in a box with some radio active something something poison something and there is exactly equal likelihood that the poison has or has NOT released and killed the cat... well philosophically, instead of saying there was equal probability, this nut wants us to think BECAUSE WE DON'T KNOW, the cat is alive and dead at the same time. Both possibilities exist.

What does that have to do with me?

One word: ABNA. Okay, that's an acronym. Five words: Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest.

Right now we are ONE WEEK away from hearing if our pitches passed us to the next round. Chances are my pitch has been read... I am both alive and dead right now.

Of course in the grand scheme of the contest, only 5 of 10,000 get prizes, so probably I am headed for certain death, but I might live a little longer yet... long enough to go for a walk...

ALSO this week: I sent 5 queries... those are on top of the 7 I think I still have 'out there'. Most likely am dead on those. Odds aren't nearly as good as living another week in the ABNA contest...

But see... the thing of it is, unlike Schrodinger's poor cat, we can play this thing over and over and over... until we live!!!

So LIVE friends! LIVE! Even if you have to die a bunch of times first! Erm...

Politics of Adipose

Happy Digressuary 5, amigos!

They're a little precious, aren't they?

Today we are talking about Adipose... Adipose the lost planet from Doctor Who... and how that would play out for real...

A summary, for those of you unfamiliar, is this:  The planet of Adipose was lost, but they wanted to continue the species. So a 'nanny' came to earth to 'incubate' these little guys... she gives this 'pill' to people eager to lose weight, and then each night, a new little adipose, made of people's body fat, LEAVES... person is a kilo lighter, the adipose is newly born... everybody happy, yes? (except in the disturbing case where a person is awake to see said adipose flee... and when they panic and use ALL the person's tissue, so the person basically dissolves... but never mind.)

But lets step back from this... if you could lose weight and KNEW you were creating a species of aliens... would you be okay with that?  I think on the assurance that they were all going to LEAVE soon... and take part of my fat with them... I'd be perfectly content with this arrangement. Had I been on this adipose plan since January 1, I'd be all but done by now. A kilo a night? That would be 70 pounds by now! Instead I am down a measly 9. I'm all for a little inter-planetary cooperation where everybody wins.

The SAD part, though, is SOME people might still do it knowing the risk of death, dissolution and world takeover... There are girls who would rather be thin than smart.  (GAH!  The things we value! erm... GAH, in this case is a synonym of ACK--I know I lack consistency here).  I'm serious about this. They've polled teenage girls and girls would trade intelligence... even years of life... for attractiveness.

Those silly things... because even among the one-time gorgeous, physical beauty is sort of a fleeing thing.  Though my friend Mary posted something on Facebook yesterday that gave me some hope. She's been at a party over the weekend--mostly couples 60 and older... she said, "you know, laughter is better than a facelift for making everybody look younger."  So remember THAT.  Laugh a lot, and don't be willing to give up life or intelligence for petty stuff.

Dae Dae, Mare Mare, and Lare

Or the Imaginary Friends Bloghop

Now I know a bloghop doesn't seem all that Digressy, but imaginary friendships do, and I am convinced I can digress adequately for the spirit of the month... See, already I've failed to get to the point!

*cough*

Cat the Dreamer and Kyra Lennon are hosting for Cat's blogiversary. And it's EASY! Just share about the imaginary friend you had or wished you had (and when).

My son the Imaginary Friend (Sworder)

My imaginary friends pre-date my memory. I was little. REALLY little. [I mean seriously--look what I named them. How old could I BE?]  I was also the only child, oldest grandchild and on my own for play. Both my parents worked. I am shy and awkward... so why NOT make up a couple companions, eh?

Dae Dae was female, and counter to my actual inclinations at the time, Mare Mare and Lare were male (I was a little frightened of boys until my mid 30s). I don't remember blaming them for much, though I suspect they may have eaten a lot of candy from the dish at my grandma's house. And probably they spotted me as I used the back of the couch as a balance beam or climbed the bookshelves (thankfully the built-in sort, or I would have been a crushed child a thousand times over), but I DID spend most of my childhood climbing, dangling, balancing or tumbling (the on purpose kind).

I did a little research on the matter in college, and imaginary friends are most common among onlies and oldest children who are enough older that they have some time in there that their younger sibling isn't worth much as a playmate. USUALLY though, they come as stand-alones. It isn't clear to me why I had a troop of them, unless I was already intent on world domination. Gotta have people to practice on if you want to learn to be bossy!

On a side note, some of you may remember that my son IS an imaginary friend.

Plotwalking

Welcome to Digressuary!

Digressuary 1 Submission: My New Superpower

So know how the weather's been full of suckage lately? I've had THREE days this week I had to walk a different route to work, two for fear of drowning (okay, so maybe it is more a fear of having wet socks all day) and one for the very near miss of falling on my hiney... Well on ALL THREE stuff was falling from the sky.

Now I don't melt. And snowfall means it's NOT cold enough for a bundled, walking person to actually FREEZE. And you know... I USED to think it was only a very high maintenance person indeed who grumbled about rain or snow. I used to LIKE THEM. But I've taken up a habit and they interfere.

And there is the constant fear of this, which I've experienced

NORMALLY I walk to work and read at the same time. SOMETIMES I walk along editing instead. Do you know what books and manuscripts are made out of? PAPER. Do you know what PAPER hates? GETTING WET! You know what INK hates? Being forced to bleed in tragic blue lines so they no longer hold their original meaning. So I no longer care for stuff falling from the sky. Not rain. Not snow. Not bird poo (were y'all around when the bird pooed on my MS? True story). Not even leaves, but mostly because they are an indicator Winter is coming and I HATE THE STARKS FOR THAT!

You can maybe see why books don't like water

So my latest editing project, WHAT ALES ME, a nearly cozy mystery centered around microbrewing and Portland, is in 'first edit'. First edit for me is 'the read' in preparation for 'big edit' but I can't seem to stop myself doing small edits on the way. First edit is something I can do as I walk (unlike big edit which requires a lot more writing and must therefore be done naked *cough*).

And I've been FRUSTRATED! I want to edit. I need to edit. And wet stuff is falling from the sky! BLUERG! Or is it BLEURG!? I get those two confused.

I'd like rain again if this would happen

But you know... two days in a row, as I walked in my grumbly non-editingness, my BRAIN engaged and I filled PLOT HOLES!!!! GAH! And by GAH I mean w00t w00t!

That is huge. Know why? Because I LOVE my character list, setting, set up... but the murder itself was missing a little UMPH. And I umphed it! TWICE!

I WIN!
*cough *

Seriously, though... I need to remember to just WALK now and then. At least if I have holes to fill.

How about you? Any writing superpowers? Any OTHER superpowers?

Stacy Gail is Nobody's Angel!!!

I mean she WROTE Nobody's Angel... Okay, so both things are true...

DO NOT buy that sweet innocent act.

Stacy is one of my REAL LIFE friends, though we met and bonded online for a long time before actually meeting face-to-face, but we've been friends since 2005, serious mind-meld friends, when she was solidly in the closet as a writer and I was still of the belief that 'author' was one of those things you only DREAMED of becoming. In fact Stacy was one of my earliest encouragers, and to this day remains one of my top three beta buddies (Leigh and Leanne, you rock, too)--I have lots more fabulous friends who help, but these three poor souls get almost EVERYTHING.

Now Stacy is ALSO a special case. (In more ways than one, eh, sister?) *cough* She made her initial publishing contacts and found her first opportunities on Twitter. Now I've been known to say you have to be on crack to follow Twitter. Erm... Maybe I should just leave it there...

Seriously, though, the other people who can Tweet are people with ADHD and Stacy seems to fit THAT profile... she is EVERYWHERE (and has usually take our shared brain with her, leaving me babbling)... she responded to calls for novella submissions, and has managed, in the last 18 books to publish FIVE (6?) novellas (wow, yeah?)... and land herself her first FOUR BOOK Contract for full-length fiction, beginning HERE...

So I will let Stacy tell you about THAT... Without Further Ado, WELCOME STACY!!!

Our friend Rissa's depiction of Stacy

Before we begin, I’d like to give huge thanks to Hart for allowing me to drop in to gab about my latest release and the start of The Earth Angels paranormal romance series, NOBODY’S ANGEL.  Thanks, Your Tartness!

Wow, has it been a wild ride getting NOBODY’S ANGEL out of my scrambled brain and into the world.  It might appear all pretty and shiny with the excellent marketing/artwork Carina Press always puts forth, but things have a way of looking easy-peasy when you see only the finished product. ;)

So, where did it all begin?  Oy.  To be honest, this series didn’t start with NOBODY’S ANGEL, really.  It was just this massive, messy idea about 21st-century descendants of the Nephilim, an ancient race of angel-human hybrids considered to be mistakes, even abominations, in the eyes of heaven.  After that plot bunny parked its fat rear front and center in my mind’s eye, I had no choice but to figure out what sort of personality could live under the pressure of knowing they’re a celestial boo-boo.  Once I had that established, I settled on about half-dozen or so characters I wanted to play with.

Zeke Reece, the hero of NOBODY’S ANGEL, kicks things off in a fast-paced, high-flying adventure that was, in part, inspired by my love of comic books (I read them to this day, though not as religiously as I used to as a kid ;) ).  Considering the material I was working with, that only makes sense.  When you’ve got super-powered people, you HAVE to have at least one of them take up the role of superhero, complete with mask, awesome powers, a secret fortress… and oh, yeah.  The creepiest super-villain I could dream up. O_o

So Zeke is the official superhero of The Earth Angels series, but he’s far from perfect.  Not only does he hate being a member of the Nephilim, he has trouble sharing the burden that comes with it.  When a phantasm called a geist targets Kendall Glynn, a journalist who’s just psychic enough to see its presence as well as Zeke’s supernatural abilities, he does his best to protect her.  But Kendall, who’s terrified of the bizarre element that has slipped into her life, is determined to help herself out of this fix.  She’s no quitter, and when she uses her own researching skills to uncover the true culprit, Zeke has to accept that there are times when he’s the one who needs help.

As of this writing, all four books in The Earth Angels series have been completed, with the first three fully edited and already in Carina Press’s publishing schedule for 2013 (I posted this schedule on my own blog here).  The fourth and final book is now being revised and will be shipped off to my editor this week (I hope), and after completing the series, I have to say it’s been a wild ride.  There will never be another “first” series for me, so The Earth Angels—and Zeke and Kendall, who start the ball rolling—are near and dear to my heart.

Hummina hummina...

EXCERPT:

“I can’t believe it…”

“There was so much blood.”

“What happened?”

Fragments of conversation hit Kendall Glynn from all sides, but the words were no more than an irrelevant buzzing in her brain. She was just as oblivious to the emergency vehicles scattered outside San Francisco’s top-rated KPOW TV station. Some of her colleagues were crying, while others spoke to police. The sea of people behind the yellow crime-scene tape all looked the same—eager spectators hoping for a glimpse of more blood, more madness.

She’d had enough of both to last a lifetime.

“Miss? Have you been treated?”

Kendall’s zombielike shuffling halted at the deep melodic voice close to her, and she turned to discover an EMT had appeared at her side. For a long moment she stared at him while his words slipped across the frozen surface of her mind without leaving a mark.

“I’m not hurt.” Her voice came from far off, unrecognizable and rough around the edges. Which made sense. The last time she’d used it had been to scream.
And scream.

And scream.

“You might not be hurt, but you are in shock.” Somehow she was moving again, heading for the back of an empty ambulance. It wasn’t until he helped her into it that she realized he’d pulled her along like a lost two-year-old. “I’m going to check you out, okay?”

“This blood, it’s not mine.” Amazing, how calm she sounded.

“I understand.” After settling her on the side of a gurney, the paramedic lifted her chin with a gloved hand and flashed a penlight across her eyes. “You’ve got lovely eyes, just like emeralds. Do you have a name?”

“Kendall Glynn.”

“My name is Zeke Reece. I’m going to take your vitals now, okay, Kendall?”

“I’m not hurt.” He had to understand she wasn’t the one who needed his attention. “The others, Dave Beamer and Jane Walters, they’re the ones who...” Oh, God.

“They’re being taken care of.” A blood-pressure cuff slipped over her arm. Began to squeeze. “You were close to them when it went down, right? Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know.” Confused, she shook her head. “One second Dave was doing his job—smiling into the camera and reading the copy I wrote about a couple of murder-suicides. It was my first lead story.”

“Congratulations.”

“Maybe he didn’t like how I wrote it.” She couldn’t seem to stop shaking her head.

“The next thing I knew, Dave was choking our anchorwoman so hard I thought he’d snapped her neck, before he took his pen and…”

“Easy.” Zeke moved to sit beside her and pushed her head between her knees. “You’re not allowed to go that white, Kendall. Makes me think you’re going to faint.”

“I don’t know what happened,” she said again, closing her eyes and willing the queasiness to pass. “Everyone was screaming. It wasn’t until I got close to Dave that I realized he was yelling the loudest. It’s like he was possessed, jamming his pen into his own neck while he screamed for someone to stop him. I jumped on top of him, but…” She gulped in air until the ringing in her ears went away. “I think he’s dead. I think Dave is dead.” She trembled on the verge of admitting she’d seen the essence of Dave’s life drain away, just as she’d witnessed her grandfather’s life essence drift from his body in the hospital when she was a child. She’d told her mother about it, and had been reprimanded for letting her imagination run away with her like crazy Aunt Maggie, a woman who read palms and talked to spirits for a living. But deep down Kendall had always suspected what she’d seen that day was real, and Aunt Maggie probably wasn’t as crazy as her family claimed.

After tonight, though, she couldn’t help but think she might not be standing as securely on the stable ground of sanity as she’d once believed.


BLURB:
Book one in The Earth Angels

Investigative journalist Kendall Glynn is horrified when a friend and colleague signs off permanently during a live newscast, jabbing a pen into his jugular. Kendall's no expert, but judging by the strange white veil in the anchorman's eyes, she would swear he was a man possessed.

A descendant of the accursed Nephilim, Zeke Reece prowls San Francisco by night, keeping the city free from paranormal phenomena. But even he is no match for whatever malevolent force is behind a recent rash of murder-suicides. And when a beautiful tenacious reporter becomes the next target, Zeke has no choice but to stay close to her, until he can find the evil spirit and cross it over.

The closer Kendall gets to the truth, the more danger she's in. Fortunately, a sexy and mysterious masked stranger keeps swooping in to the rescue. Kendall's life depends on finding who or what is responsible for the killings, before it finds her.
33,000 words

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Question: With a multitude of paranormal-based movies, graphic novels and books on the market today, what do you think the next “big thing” will be? (Please no mention of sparkly vampires, thanks. The Tart has an allergy. :D)  Leave a comment and you’ll be entered in my giveaway of a $25 Amazon GC!




   [Poor baby can be MY angel...]