Category Archives: Fantasy

Sell me that book in 100 words or less!

Aquarell_gemalt_von_August_Menken-1875 By Creator - August Menken [Public domain] via Wikimedia CommonsI’ve been participating in a month-long exercise where you get a prompt and you write the story. I have set the bar a bit high, as I am giving myself only 100 words to tell that story.  It’s a bit difficult, but I have a reason for this, beyond my usual insanity.

The back of a book has something we writers call blurbs (I know. I shouldn’t use author-speak in company, it’s not polite.)  Technically it is called “the pitch” because you are pitching your product to prospective buyers.  This little thing is critical.  Your cover must make them pick up the book or click on the icon and your pitch must sell it. But hello – you have only about 30 seconds to capture the prospective buyer’s interest enough for them to crack it open, or use the look inside feature for eBooks.

I’m not real good at writing pitches. Neither are the Big Six Publishers, oddly enough!  Even the big companies have found ways of avoiding pitching a novel simply by putting glowing reviews of other works by that author on the back cover.

Back Cover of Mage-Guard of Hamor by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

Back Cover of Mage-Guard of Hamor by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

Bleah.  That doesn’t sell me a book, Tor-Forge, publishing giant that you are. As you can see, on the back cover of this book there is no blurb, only glowing comments about the author’s other series of books.  This may work for a well-known author like L.E.Modesitt Jr., or Brandon Sanderson, but it doesn’t work for me as a reader.

I have observed many indies taking the same route, and skipping the blurbs entirely.

Indie authors take note: I (and millions like me) don’t buy books without blurbs of some sort, somewhere, unless I am already familiar with that author’s work. I want to know what I am buying, so even a bad blurb will interest me more than a quote from a glowing review by one of your Beta Readers.

Just sayin’!

So here I am, suffering the curse of the indie author, trying to not only be my own publicist, but also my own advertising agency.

Thus, I am going to learn how to write a blurb, if it kills me. Writing a 100 word piece of flash-fiction is called a “drabble”.  I figure if I can get this down to a fine art, I can write a decent blurb.

The original prompt went as follows:

Write A 100 Word Story (“Drabble”) . . . although a 100 word story will probably take longer than expected, it’s still going to take a manageable amount of time.

To make a drabble work,
-Choose one or two characters
-Take one single moment/action/choice and show us how it unfolds
-Give us one or two vibrant details in as few words as possible
-Show us (hint) how this moment/action/choice is more significant than the characters probably realize in the moment

I decided to use these parameters for the entire month of flash fiction.  Here is my first one, written May 1st.

Ted  (5-1-2013)

Edna stirred her coffee and looked out the window toward the shed.

“Did you feed the chickens?” Marion always asked, though she knew Edna had.

Edna looked away from the shed. “Of course I did.” Her eyes turned back to the shed. “We won’t be able to keep him in there much longer. He’s growing too big. We should have a barn built for him.”

“Ted was always a greedy boy.” Marion stirred her coffee. “I warned him he behaved like a beast.”

A rumbling bellow shook the shed. A long green tail snaked out of the shed door.

I will keep practicing until I get the hang of creating something interesting in 100 words. Blurbs  don’t have to tell the whole story, that is what the inside of the book is for! All they have to do is sell the book–be that tantalizing bit of interest that hooks the reader into buying your book. 

Yesterday’s drabble went like this:

Quaglio_KipfenbergDrake – 5-3-2013

He stood on the parapet, silhouetted against the starry sky, his wings wrapped tightly about him against the chill wind. The sounds of the darkened world below drifted up to him. The nightbird’s song. The servants in the castle below. The lowing of cattle in the distance.

Hunger, intense and overwhelming clouded his vision.

Spreading his wings Drake fell forward, the wind catching and lifting him; soaring. A scent on the wind alerted him to his quarry.

On a corner she stood, ripe and full lipped—the tamale vendor.

Silently, he dropped beside her, whispering seductively, “Two tamales, please Senora.”

I’ve had a lot of fun with this, and I may have some ideas for longer short stories here, so it’s certainly not a waste of time, even if I never get the hang of selling my own work!

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Filed under Books, Dragon Age, Fantasy, Humor, Literature, Uncategorized, writing

Inspiration

© connie j jasperson 2013

© connie j jasperson 2013

The town I grew up in, Olympia Washington, has a reputation for being just a bit, how shall I put this? Weird. Wild. Wacky.

The city is the state capitol, so there is that political side of things, that energy that drives the local economy.

Then there are two colleges, one of which is The Evergreen State College, a school that attracts some amazing people. There is a fine community college, and across town in the city of  Lacey, there is Saint Martin’s University.

Many students who come here from out-of-town choose to stay in the area, and so we’ve become a place known for our high-energy arts and music scene, and our…interesting…downtown life.

Olympia is one of the most Vegan-Friendly cities you could ever want to go to, as nearly every small restaurant and cafe has at least one vegan offering and many have an entire SECTION of their menu that is devoted to vegan options.

We are also the home of Riot Grrrl punk rock, with bands like Sleater Kinney and Bikini Kill to our credit.

© connie j jasperson 2013

© connie j jasperson 2013

Downtown is fun, crazy and most definitely a walk on the wild side, even on a Monday afternoon. When I am not on the road, I frequently drive up to Olympia and go to a local coffee-house called Batdorf and Bronson on Capitol way just to spend the day there, writing. I do this especially when I have come to a dead-end, because something about being in downtown Olympia inspires me when nothing else will.

The best parade of the year is called the Procession of The Species, and it is not just a parade, it is an event. In a time-honored tradition, people put their lawn chairs and camp stools out on the curb two days ahead of time, staking out their viewing places. The chairs will sit there, lining the curb like so many abandoned soldiers for two days prior to the parade and no one will steal them.

The parade itself is awesome.

From Wikipedia, the Fount of all Knowledge:

© connie j jasperson 2013

© connie j jasperson 2013

“Taking place during Olympia’s annual Spring Arts Walk, the Procession regularly draws 30,000 spectators and 2,000-3,000 participants.[2]The celebration, now in its 17th year, is completely noncommercial, made possible by community contributions of money, materials, time, and skills.[3] The Procession is produced by Earthbound Productions, a 501 C-3 organization, and currently does not benefit from any public funding from the city of Olympia. Seven weeks before the Procession, a community art studio is established. This studio is open to the public and a minimal donation is requested, but no one is ever turned away for lack of funds. As there is no permanent studio space available for the Procession, each year Earthbound Productions locates and rents a space to serve as the community art studio; ultimately, the group hopes to find a permanent location.[4] The studio, staffed solely by volunteers, becomes a central location for art & music workshops and costume design. Participants use a wide range of artistic approaches, such as BatikPapier Mache, and Luminaria. They use mostly donated or scavenged materials to express appreciation for the natural world and create their costumes, banners, floats, puppets, drumming, community bands, and more. During the event itself, bedecked in their costumes featuring the elements and various species of plants and animals, people of all ages join in the procession. The event itself has three ground rules: no live pets, no motorized vehicles, and no written words.[5]

I have to say though, while the giraffe and the whales were awesome, the giant clam costume (the geoduck) at this year’s procession drew many…surprised…comments.

© connie j jasperson 2013

© connie j jasperson 2013

One of the fun activities happens 30 minutes ahead of the procession. Two wagons loaded with side-walk chalk  pulled by volunteers make the journey along the entire parade route handing out chalk and the spectators then decorate the streets. Some amazing art happens. The wagons return to collect the chalk, leading the procession.

I don’t get direct inspiration from downtown as in “Oohh, write about this…” I just find it stirs my own already quite out-there mind and when the old brain can’t seem to pull up anything worth writing, the change of scenery does me good.

Alas, today I must hit the road once again, but inspiration travels with me this time. I think it will be a productive trip.

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Filed under Adventure, Books, Fantasy, Humor, Literature, Uncategorized, Vegan, writer, writing

Squirrel!

800px-Klamelisaurus-scene-v1 wikimedia commonsI’m a dinosaur, lost in the woods.

I’m definitely a product of my generation. I have some college behind me, but not much, and what college I do have happened in the Dark Ages.

I am pretty much self taught. Because I am aware of my frailty in regard to REMEMBERING the English Language as it was taught to me in my American elementary school years, I am always trying to reeducate myself.

Fortunately, the internet is big, and full of all sorts of good advice.

Lots and lots of interesting things, all so neatly packaged for my  viewing pleasure.

grey squirrel close up  © Neil Phillips 2007

grey squirrel close up
© Neil Phillips 2007

What usually happens is one question gets partially answered and  suddenly I see a squirrel!

Today’s squirrel is a paragraph in an article regarding comma usage I was directed to by one of my dear friends, editor Irene Roth Luvaul.

I got about half way through it before I was sidetracked by another issue I have struggled with in my writing.  Should I use That or Which when a relative pronoun is REQUIRED? I say ‘required’ because most of the time a relative pronoun is not necessary but, occasionally, one is needed to clarify a sentence.

According to  Mark Nichol, writing for the website Daily Writing Tips:

“The house which Jack built is falling apart,” without commas, is correct. It is identical in meaning to “The house that Jack built is falling apart.” However, the convention in American English is to avoid using which in this sense to prevent confusion with the meaning of the sentence with the parenthetical phrase.”

SO this little paragraph explains the bipolar approach to writing I have when it comes THAT and WHICH!  One of my editors is BRITISH and the other is AMERICAN!  Both are educated and correct in their usage of the words, and both keep me on the right path.

I must simply decide which path that path might be…or something.

The key is to choose a usage and stick with it, I think.  This involves making a list and ♪ ♫ checking it twice ♪ ♫, gonna find out who’s ♪ ♫…squirrel!

Where was I?

Oh yes, relative pronouns.

Complicating things even further is the dreaded Zero Relative Pronoun! According to WIKIPEDIA-THE FOUNT OF ALL KNOWLEDGE (and I quote:)

Zero relative pronoun

English, unlike other West Germanic languages, has a zero relative pronoun (denoted below as Ø) — that is, the relative pronoun is only implied and is not explicitly present. It is an alternative to thatwhich or who(m) in a restrictive relative clause:

Jack built the house that I was born in.
Jack built the house Ø I was born in.
He is the person who(m) I saw.
He is the person Ø I saw.

Relative clauses headed by zeros are frequently called contact clauses in TEFL contexts, and may also be called “zero clauses”.

Note that if that is analyzed as a complementizer rather than as a relative pronoun (see Status of that below), the above sentences would be represented differently: Jack built the house that I was born in ØJack built the house I was born in ØHe is the person I saw Ø.

MH900407568The zero relative pronoun cannot be the subject of the verb in the relative clause (or on the alternative analysis: that cannot be omitted when the zero relative pronoun is the subject). Thus one must say:

Jack built the house that sits on the hill.
Jack built the house that was damaged by the tornado.

and never

*Jack built the house Ø sits on the hill.
*Jack built the house Ø was damaged by the tornado.

Neither that nor the zero pronoun can be used in non-restrictive relative clauses, or in relative clauses with a fronted preposition (“Jack built the house in which we now live”), although they can be used when the preposition is stranded: “Jack built the house (that) we now live in.

And what did we learn here? Holy crap, Jack is a busy man, and the houses he builds…. I don’t think I want to live in a house he built, too risky.

So anyway I think I need to decide if I am going to go British or American, and STICK with it either way. It seems like a simple choice on the surface but it isn’t. I am an American, but I grew up reading Agatha Christie, and J.R.R. Tolkien.

What would Bilbo Baggins do?

What’s that in your pocketses or are you just glad to see me…?

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Lurid and Unsuitable. Yup.

Pinocchio

As you know I have been dealing with 6-year olds a lot lately, and they are full of fibs and fabulous tales. They crack me up with how obvious they are about it.

But little white lies happen in adult life, too.  They are usually a gut-reaction — a sometimes irrational reflex that we justify with the comforting thought that “it doesn’t really matter, and this way we’ll avoid an argument.”  We’ve all done it at one time or another, and in much the same way as our toilet habits are, it’s not a subject we like to discuss in polite company.

But it makes an interesting plot development. In real life, white lies can escalate into big, complicated messes that can end marriages.  Love and white-lies are like the two sides of the family I grew up in – they don’t really mix well. In a good marriage, there are no white lies.  White lies happen when you don’t trust the other person to accept what you have either done or plan to do.

Trust is the key word here.

In Forbidden Road I have one character whose life is one long string of white lies, and that made for the most pivotal plot development in the story. It was difficult to write his tale and yet his penchant for avoiding the truth is the snowflake that causes the landslide and it drives the plot. The repercussions of his white-lies forms the tension for the next book in that series.

Speaking of books I’ve written, you may notice that The Last Good Knight is no longer available. It will be republished when Huw The Bard is published. Right now it is being readied for a complete re-editing, along with new covers to better reflect the fact that both books are a part of the Billy’s Revenge series.

TLGK was my first complete novel. I didn’t know much about writing, other than I liked a good story, so I wrote one. I had been writing for years, but I was working and raising kids, so all my writing was for my own amazement, and the rejection letters didn’t really matter, since they never said WHY my work was rejected.

I have struggled with The Last Good Knight. Carlie Cullen tried to straighten it out, and she worked a miracle, but there is one flaw inherent in this book that MUST be eradicated for it to live up to its potential. TLGK was written for NaNoWriMo, and many of it’s flaws can be traced back to that origin – “did not” instead of “didn’t” (for word count) and two rambling sections where I was establishing backstory. No one but the author really cares about backstory, but I didn’t know this at the time.

I’d never taken the time to analyze what I liked about a book. I didn’t know why some books I read captured my imagination, and some didn’t. I was writing for my own eyes, and I wrote what I wanted to read, and I LOVED a good story.

This is the reason why:

TriplanetaryMy parents were a bit eccentric. (Understatement of the year.)

Dad thought we should read what ever we want to read and of course we wanted to read what Dad read, so my sister and I cut our reading teeth on E.E. ‘Doc’ Smith’s Lensman Series.

This presented a problem at times in elementary school when we brought the book we were reading and it was deemed  to be ‘lurid and unsuitable’ by our teachers, frequently with negative consequences. My sister’s teacher went so far as to tell my mother, “A third grader should not be reading such trash!”  My mother’s response was that children should read whatever they wanted if they understood the words.

The series begins with Triplanetary, two billion years before the present time. What a great notion THAT is! The plot devices developed in this series of serialized tales forms the core of what we think of as traditional science fiction.  George Lucas liked it so much he used it in Star Wars.

200px-DocsavageThe other great influence on what I instinctively thought of as a ‘Literature’ was written by Lester Dentyes folks, my sister and I adored ‘Doc Savage’.  Clark Savage (or “Doc” to his friends), had no special powers, but was raised from birth by his father and other scientists to become one of the most perfect human beings in terms of strength, mental and physical abilities.

So, having spent my formative years fighting with my sister over who got to read dad’s Analog first, and having eagerly shared every crumb of any book, from Tolkien to McCaffrey to Heinlein with her, my notion of what constitutes a good tale was formed.

All these tales were TOLD, using phrases like “there was” and “he felt”.  These are HUGE no-no’s in the current culture of show-don’t-tell, as in the eyes of the modern reviewer there is no greater crime than that of “TELLING” a story.

Tolkien would have never gotten off the ground.

Thus, I need to completely rewrite two sections of TLGK, under the eye of an editor with a cruel red pen. It’s a great story, and I LOVE Julian Lackland. I just need to have modern approach to telling his tale and I think that when  he emerges he will be all that he is now, and more. So for the time being Julian Lackland is in literary limbo.

It’s been a hard decision to make, as I love that book, and the characters in that book have spawned two other stand-alone books and a whole world of tales. Once Huw the Bard is published I will re-release The Last Good Knight in some form or other. In the meantime I feel good about this choice.

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Transporting Dead Dinosaurs

The Joy of Childhood  © Leah Reindl 2012

The Joy of Childhood
© Leah Reindl 2012

So I went on an outing with one of my grandsons and his Kindergarten class. You may remember this child–The Boy whose antics keep Grandma hopping.

I honestly thought he was going to be the difficult child on the trip, but it turns out that he has an image to maintain (already) and his little mates believe he is the soul of reason. His teachers adore him.

(See Grandma’s look of shocked disbelief.)

However, I did have the pleasure of riding on the school bus in the seat directly in front of the ‘interesting child’ in the class, a little firecracker we’ll call Mercy. Her voice was beyond piercing–my ears are still ringing.

MH900001542First though, you have to picture the school bus packed with 6-year olds, each one in varying stages of that mania only a 6 year old child can bring to such an event. The adult volunteers were given groups of 3 children each to monitor. We lined up outside the school at the curb, and got on the bus, keeping our groups in order. My daughter and I shared our group, which worked out well.

MH900422812The first thing I noticed was the amazing lack of leg-room in Grandma’s seat. That and the fact that nowadays Grandma seems to take up more than half of the bench.

Oops.

Still, two of ‘my’ children were able to sit on the bench with me, and despite the fact that my knees were firmly pressed into the back of the seat in front of me, we rode fairly comfortably.

Directly behind me was the girl who we’ll call Mercy. She was imaginative, boisterous, and full of ‘it’.  She wore her emotions for everyone to clearly see, and every thought that entered her mind was immediately expressed, loudly, twice for emphasis. She was needy, loud, inappropriate and hysterically funny.

Mercy was the poster-child for ADHD.

As the large yellow sardine can I was trapped in hurtled down I-5, Mercy’s commentary dominated the din. “Look at that dude! He’s smoking a cigar. I’ll bet he’s a gangsta. He’s gonna do a deal. I saw it on TV.”

“Mercy, that’s inappropriate. We don’t talk like that, remember?” The lady who was Mercy’s wrangler was awesome. She was an older lady who volunteered at the school and who was also the school crossing guard. I suspect she was a retired teacher, as she had opted to wrangle the three toughest discipline cases in the class.

The other two were boys and they were…interesting…, but Mercy was the real loose-cannon in the bunch. She was the ringleader, the one the other two looked up to.

Just around the time I noticed I had lost the feeling in my legs, the school bus pulled alongside of a long semi, an open-top box trailer that was covered with a canvas tarp.  A corner of the tarp had come loose, and flapped in the wind as the truck rolled down the highway, giving a tantalizing peek at the contents of the load. (It was sawdust.)

Mercy said, “Look that truck is broken. I wonder what’s in it? It’s probably going to crash, cuz its broken.”

Her seatmate, a boy we’ll call Dewayne, said, “It won’t crash. That’s just the tarp. I wonder what’s under it?”

Dinosaur_comic_left by Luuva wikimedia commonsMercy said, “It’s broken, so it’s gonna fly off and kill someone and there’ll be blood everywhere. We’ll probably be on the news when it happens. And it’s a dinosaur, under the tarp.  A dead one.”

Dewayne said, “How do you know its a dead dinosaur? It could be any sort of dead body.”

“Human bodies aren’t that big. It has to be a dinosaur.” Mercy’s tone implied that she held the trump card. “I wonder where they’re going to bury it.”

All I could think of was that the seat behind me was occupied by two future authors of fantasy crime fiction, and the girl could possibly be a future Quentin Tarantino. This little girl was hysterically funny, obsessed with the macabre, totally off the wall and sharper than a tack.

I was SO grateful she was not in our group, as she was fast as lightning, didn’t hear any instructions, and made her own rules as she went.

It was a fun trip.

Grandma needed a nap when we got home.

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Filed under Adventure, Books, Dragons, Fantasy, Humor, Literature, Uncategorized, Vegan, writer, writing

Did I say that…?

killedI love words.  I hate auto-correct. I love writing words that make sense and say what I want them to say. Auto-correct is not conducive to that.

I hate spell checker. Now, if I was smart like Shaun Allan, I could take all those crazy nonsensical sentences that auto-correct accidentally gives me and make a dark, joyous joke out of them.

Shaunie can write circles around me. Actually, he can write circles around ANYone.  My prose when I try to write the way he does comes out forced, as if I was acting like a writer. When Shaun writes it, it’s entertaining. When I write it that way, it reads like ‘Ulysses’ would have read if James Joyce had written it via text-messaging on his smart-phone.

Although, now I think of it, that might have been an interesting lit-class….

But I have to say, that if anyone could make auto-correct work FOR them, it would be Shaun Allan.

41AIUjinHwL._SL500_AA300_I find that just reading Facebook posts as posted from my Android smarter-than-me-phone would be entertaining if they weren’t so embarrassing. My comment on a friend’s post regarding vacations last year: “We went to DC but didn’t get to Vagina, as we didn’t rent a car and were on the Metro.”  I’m not sure why my phone felt the need to auto-correct Virginia in such an interesting manner, but hey–what ever works, right?

My comment received five likes from people I didn’t know before I took a look at it and saw what was actually posted.

The really strange thing is my brain didn’t process the fact that we were IN Virginia! We were staying in Arlington, but for some reason I thought we were in Maryland! Washington DC is built in such a way that when you go across town you can literally travel from Virginia to Maryland in ten minutes, something my rural west-coast brain couldn’t seem to get straight. My phone really WAS smarter than me!

I’m not sure how to fit that comment into a medieval alternate reality tale, but I’m working on it.

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I-5 or The Handbasket to Hell

__Hell's Handbasket__400 1Today I am back home, doing massive amounts of laundry and also doing revisions on Huw the Bard. For the last week I have been trundling up and down the I-5 corridor in Western Washington like an elderly gypsy in a 2009 Subaru Forester. Or, as I like to think of  the old family wagon, the Handbasket to Hell.

Anyone who  regularly has to drive this particular stretch of highway knows what I am talking about.

The  traveling population in Western Washington numbers about  5,229,486 people, and they are ALL eventually funneled onto the 6 to 8 lanes of  I-5.  Except for I-405, that 30 mile long stretch of misery that bypasses Seattle east of Lake Washington, this is it, folks. Unlike civilized places like the Midwest or Florida, you get only ONE major highway serving five-and-a-quarter million people out here in the urban-wilds.

Basically the legislature in Washington State is too dysfunctional to even begin contemplating fixing a toilet, much less our traffic troubles. The feds also feel that under normal circumstances conestogas  and Sasquatches require very little in the way of freeway access, so there you are.

Oh, the Agony.

Olympia, Tacoma, and Seattle each have public transportation systems in place, and you can make it on public transport if you work at it, although it becomes a looooooooong journey with many tricky connections. This is the least expensive option and if you have all day and little cash, it’s doable.

There is also the time honored Greyhound Bus for those brave souls who don’t mind the smell of a rolling Porta Potty AND who enjoy the thrill of being stranded in the worst, sleaziest sections of strange cities.

But there is no light-rail connecting Olympia to Everett. Believe me, if there were I would take it! I could ride Amtrak, but that is $24.00 each way, rather expensive for an underfunded book-monger like myself to consider. And then I’d still have to find a transit bus to Snohomish. I could use my daughter’s car once I got to Snohomish, so it may become an option.

At certain rare, beautiful times (after 8 pm or before 5 am) my journey to Seattle will take 1 hour, exactly as it should. However, most of the time the traffic is such that I allow 2 hours to Seattle and 3 to Snohomish. As I inch along in the bumper-to-bumper traffic, I feel that if the car is rolling forward, even if it is only going 20 mph, I must be making progress!

41-QRjuVtOL._SX300_While I am away from home, every coffee bar or cafeteria where I see the words ‘free wifi’ becomes my office! Grandma pops open the hand-bag, hauls out the little Acer and voila! Grandma is back in business. Not only that, but Grandma can write a book while helping Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader team up with Batman and the Green Lantern for a little kick-ball, pausing only to walk to the Pilchuck Drive In for a snack of those lovely morsels of greasy, salty goodness that we call fries (that’s ‘chips’ to you in the UK.)

Yes, I am that kind of grandma. (Here kid, eat yer spuds. They’ll make ya into a superhero.)

I have begun fleshing out Billy Ninefingers, and holy krraapp, once again I’ve fallen in love with my characters. I just LOVE the Rowdies and the snarky merriment Billy seems to generate.

Parisfal - Creator - Hermann Hendrich PD-Art Wikimedia CommonsIrene Luvaul and I have just finished the first draft of ‘Mountains of the Moon’, with me writing and Irene reading and removing ‘thats’ and ‘which'(s) right and left, along with de-comma-tizing frantically, and directing me to “Show not tell!” The woman is a saint, to want to do this on such a raw manuscript.  She began work on the beginning chapters before I had even finished the story, but that gave me the impetus to just get it done.

As I mentioned before, Irene and I are embarking on the third edit of  Huw the Bard, preparatory to sending him to Carlie Cullen.

By trial and error, I have discovered that I need two sets of editorial eyes on my wretched work – and when Carlie has made her trip though and I have fixed her findings to her satisfaction, my sister, Sherrie DeGraw, and several others will beta-read it, checking to see that it is ready for publication.

All this while, Carlie and Irene are writing their own wonderful works, and Sherrie is painting her little heart out.

When you are an indie author, if you want your work to be enjoyable, you must have a thick hide and the ability to work with others even if they are telling you things you don’t want to hear.  Believe me, there is no agony like the agony of a bad review, other than that of having your heart ripped from  your chest.

Write the story the way it falls out of your head.  Rewrite the story until you are satisfied with it.  Find an editor who is HAPPY to work with you, and TAKE THEIR ADVICE by sucking it up and making the revisions they have requested.  Go through the MS at least 3 times with them, or even 4.  Then find another editor, a ‘Line-editor” and go through the same process.  Have the book beta-read by people who read in your genre.

Spend the time that it takes to make your book reader-ready and you will have a product you can be proud of.

Even if you’ve written it while riding in a handbasket to hell.

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The Wheels on the Bus

FREAK FLAG SOCKSAh spring! Once again I am traveling the grand Highways of Life, surfing the net from hospital cafeterias and meeting some of the nicest, most caring people in the world.

As I’ve written before, two of my children suffer from Adult Onset of Epilepsy. Most of my time has lately been divided between Seattle and Snohomish, trying to help them cope and then returning to my home south of Olympia.

c436259aI spend a LOT of time on the road.  I take my husbands car for these long trips, as my 1999 Suzuki Swift (known locally as ‘the Grape’ because of its grapey-blue color) is not that good on the freeway. It’s so small that it gets blown around a lot by semi-trucks and mini-vans.

This time the ‘e’ word has struck my oldest daughter .  Her seizures manifest themselves differently than her brother’s. Dan goes from being just fine to Tonic Clonic without warning. His are currently being managed well with proper meds.

Leah has only had one Tonic Clonic event and that was in 2000, but she has once again begun having episodes where she ‘just goes away’ for 3 or 4 minutes. She has no memory of these mini events. They are Complex Partial Seizures, and are quite random in the way they strike her.

They share the same father, and there are indications that this may be something that his family has dealt with in the past on his mother’s side. The problem is, they emigrated to the US from Norway in the 1920s, and all the ones who would know anything are dead.

260px-ReceptionistsChances are they would not have been willing to discuss it, were they still alive. The stigma of epilepsy was, at one time, enough to keep members of an epileptic’s family locked in a code of silence. In the public mind, epilepsy was intricately bound up in a knot with mental illness and mental retardation. From the 1920’s through the 1990’s, just having a family member with one of these conditions was enough to prevent you from getting a white-collar job, no matter what your education and qualifications. It is only in the last decade that the public has begun to be educated in regard to ALL of these conditions.

In many ways, we are still fighting these sorts of battles, breaking down the stigmas attached to these illnesses and conditions. It is illegal to discriminate against a person in hiring just because they disclose that they have an illness or disorder, but who knows what will affect the person’s chances at a job interview?

Fortunately my children are employed well.  Dan is a software engineer and Leah is a hair stylist, and owns her own business. Dan’s employer is absolutely awesome. He’s been there 10 years and is very happy. His employer has many employee-support programs, and they treat their employees like family.

And so, the saga continues. The vegan hits the road, wondering if she will be forced to starve or if there will be food she can eat there, wondering how her kids are holding up under the pressure of dealing with new meds and medical bills.

Yet, no matter what, they always seem to manage, and yes, sometimes they need my help with logistics or hospital stuff, but most of the time they just handle what life throws at them.

And this makes me rather productive–I have finished writing the first draft of Mountains of the Moon, and am doing revisions. It has an ending and everything.

I have 48,000 words written on Billy Ninefingers.  I have the beginning, and I have the end, he just needs the middle filled out!

I am also doing a complete rewrite of my Galahad tale.

So the wheels on the bus go round and round and I keep rolling down the highway, but I say to heck with reality, I’m an author. Escape is my middle name!

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Filed under Battles, Epilepsy, Fantasy, Humor, Literature, writer, writing

Prompts, Me, and The Garmin Lady

MH900305798This week I will be on the road again. It is spring break for the schools there and so I will head north to Snohomish to stay with The Boy for a few days while my daughter, Leah, is working.

I love Snohomish. It’s full of little secondhand shops and antique stores. And just like in Olympia,  the vegan can eat really well in that town.

Also, it is paradise for those of us who LOVE small, independently owned bookstores.

Apparently there is a lot of road construction between my house and my destination.  But don’t worry!  I have our trusty GPS device, complete with The Garmin Lady to guide me around the back-ups and traffic jams.

arrowYes, The Garmin Lady is better than your mother-in-law at giving orders and (unlike me) she always points the correct direction when she says “Turn Left .”

(Oops! I meant the OTHER left, dear. Sorry.)

Gosh, I’m helpful.

My dear friends Carlie Cullen and Donna L. Sadd are doing another month of blogging to writing prompts and today’s prompt was the arrow you see to right.  I’m not good at writing to prompts, but that arrow perfectly defines my poor hubby’s sense of direction, although he would deny it if asked! Therefore, in the interest of not publicly mocking my spouse I will not be blogging on it.

But I did get him the Garmin originally so that he would listen to directions from someone, anyone.

Unfortunately, you need to update the maps regularly and while my hubby makes his living as an IT man, he’s not really into it at home, so little things like that tend to languish unless they update automatically.

One of the first things we found out was that if you have the Garmin set on “Pedestrian” mode, it will tell you how far an how fast you have walked. This has been really helpful for my hubby who regularly takes long walks on his lunch break. It’s amazing how far he can walk in an hour.

HOWEVER, there is a down side to this. IF you forget to switch it back to driving mode, and you decide to make a random trip down Interstate 5  from Olympia, Washington to, oh, let’s say McMinnville, Oregon, you may have a random encounter with The Garmin Lady that goes like this:

220px-Garmin_255W_GPS_deviceGarmin Lady: “Exit Freeway at next exit.”

Me and Greg: “What? No way, we aren’t even in Chehalis yet!”

Garmin Lady “Recalculating. Take Next Exit, to the right.”

Me and Greg: “There’s something wrong with this thing. We’re passing Longview. We’re nowhere near McMinnville yet. We’re still in Washington, so what she wants us to do, I can’t imagine.”

Garmin Lady “Recalculating. Make U-Turn at next police turnout and then exit freeway, to the right.”

Us: “What?!? That’s just plain crazy, not to mention illegal! Turn that damned thing off!  It’s broken!”

SO, if I am going to rely on this miracle of modern technology to guide me around any traffic jams, this three-hour road trip could really be an adventure. I could end up in Mukilteo, or Woodinville. Heck, I could end up back in Seattle if I really piss The Garmin Lady off!

300px-Seattleskyline1cropped

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Filed under Adventure, Battles, Fantasy, Humor, Literature, Uncategorized, Vegan, writer, writing

The End is Nigh

party onI should be in a party mood, but I’m not.

I’m now writing the final chapter of Mountains of the Moon. The final battle is over, the aftermath is a memory. Now all I have left to write is the ending. Party On!!!

Good grief, this is difficult.

Do I just say “And they lived happily ever after?”

No–this is Neveyah…happily for a few years is about it…but they do get home, at least some of them, right? Soooo….

How freaking boring is that?  Now what?

Lets see…maybe a bit of a fight…no I’m trying to end this and that’s just asking for 10,000 more words…but what if they just happened to…no.

No. No. No.

Just END the bloody book!  They went home! They were happy!  End of book!  How the hell hard is that?

*Author makes rude noise at computer screen and takes a teensy coffee break. Characters languish in limbo for two hours.*

Okay, where was I? Right, the best part of the story is over, and there’s nothing left to talk about, but I have to gracefully end this ordeal. This sucks honking wongas….

Did you know that you can go out to YouTube and there is a channel with more than 80 videos of Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow?  Oohh… Stargazer…my favorite!

So, do they come home in coffins or  what? WHAAAT!!! Help me Obi Wan Kenobi! You’re my only hope!

Obi Wan.

lego-star-wars-the-game desk top wall paperOoohh, that reminds me! I just got an old version of Lego’s Star Wars for the PS3 for the grandkids.

Heh heh.

*Keys rapidly* “And they all lived happily ever after.”

Gotta go now.

Luuuuuke, I am your Grandma….

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Filed under Adventure, Battles, Fantasy, Final Fantasy, Humor, Uncategorized, writing