I'm Not Upset

Finally got around to asking my publisher about online sales figures. Not glowing, dear readers. Not glowing.

TT: Adding in my personal sales make it look a little better. 

She sent some kind words along with them of the "don't worry, slow starts can build" sort, but I admit, I was surprised at the smallness of the whole thing. Were I the sort who cared about numbers, I would be disheartened. On the other hand, I am convinced slow and steady is the only way to build a real fan base. If those who read my book now like it enough to buy the next, I'm good, provided I produce a next. My plan has always been to saturate the market with "me" until a reader can't turn around without bumping into a Turtle egg. If I live to 111, I have almost 70 years to achieve that goal.

I've said from the beginning, for me, this isn't about selling or being published or any kind of ego trip whatsoever. My goal was to finish a book, and I did that. Publication was more of a symptom of finishing. However, for the sake of my publisher and small fan group and the world in general, I will try to promote my book a bit more. I have one advantage over the average writer: I'm not afraid of people.

My launch party will commence Oct 5, 6 - 8 PM at World Cup Cafe.

I'm heading south in a couple weeks. I should contact that bookstore near Wichita and see about dropping in and hosting a book signing or something.

I have a contact name for my old high school. I want to donate a book to their library, but, frankly, I suspect I'll need board approval and a PG 16 rating. I'll get on that.

And, I have one ace-in-the-hole I've been too nervous to play. Thinking it's time to play it. More about that later, I suspect.

Happy Tuesday, everybody.

Of Backaches and Cavities

I am prone to cavities. Have been all my life. I brush, I floss, I go to the dentist every six months for cleaning, but I continue to get cavities. Such is my life.

I got two fillings about two weeks ago, and I'm supposed to get another one this week. The cavities are on opposite sides of my mouth, you see, so filling all of them at once would not only cause my numbed face to slide right off my skull, it would make eating impossible.

I was warned that one of the filling replacements - yes, fillings can wear out - was close to the nerve and would be tender for a while. She wasn't kidding.

After two weeks, I can't chew chips on that side. No, I don't need to chew chips, but I do eat granola, and broccoli, and other things that require some pressure on the molars. The second filling to be replaced - I mentioned fillings wear out, didn't I? - is also a molar and also close to a nerve. What happens if it freaks out, too? I'll be eating my steak through a straw.

Just kidding. I rarely eat steak. It would be ground turkey through a straw.

Here's the second half of the story. Replacing fillings causes the mouthpiece I wear to go out of alignment. When it goes out of alignment, I can't sleep, I get horrible back and neck aches, and I lose feeling in my left arm. These symptoms started this weekend. I currently have a stabbing pain in my neck that extends to the base of my spine, and it won't get better until several days after a mouthpiece alignment.

TT: I do wonder if the nightly chewing is what's causing these fillings to wear out so quickly. They're not more than 10 years old, I'm sure. The mouthpiece protects me somewhat, but pressure is pressure. Don't think that doesn't give me something to chew on. Sigh.

I want to reschedule my next dental appointment to give my new filling a little more time to calm down so I can eat on that side, but I don't want to wait to adjust my mouthpiece or spend $85 to adjust my mouthpiece between fillings. I doubt I could get in to do so even if I wanted to on such short notice. My orthodontist is quite popular.

So, do I go ahead with the filling and plan to eat oatmeal for the foreseeable future, or do I reschedule the dentist and live with the backaches for a month or more? It's also possible the filling won't calm down and will require a crown, but it could be the first crown that's giving trouble instead of the new filling, in which case my next option is a root canal and that leads to a whole new set of problems.

I hoped laying it out here would make the correct decision obvious, but I fear no "correct" decision exists. It's all "what-ifs" and wishes. I guess I'll schedule the mouthpiece alignment and plan to go ahead with the new filling. I have three days in which to cancel. We'll see if they make the difference.

Behind the Scenes

I've been asked to guest post on another author's blog, soooooo, awesome. Deeply honored. I'll keep you up to date on that.

Another co-worker started reading Star of Justice. She's gotten to the walking forest (ch 3). Her face lit up while she was explaining her reactions to the whole scene and she ended with "They're settling in for the night, but I just know something interesting is going to happen next."

Well, that's a pretty intense compliment, I'm thinking.

She's not the first to mention the walking forest as a favorite part. Even Big Brother, who prefers books where someone's head explodes in the first 500 words and gave me endless grief over using the word "trencher," made the off-hand comment that "the forest is pretty cool."

Huh.

Shall I confess?

The forest wasn't planned. I needed something to happen, and that was the first thing that sprang to mind.

When I directed puppets, one of the things we did as an encore was perform one of our songs with the curtains down. I wanted the audience to understand the kind of gyrations and coordination required to use signs, two-handed puppets, two-people puppets and puppets that move from back stage to front in a group of ten people in a confined space. It is something to behold.

I wonder if readers want to know those kinds of behind-the-scenes info on books? I always watch the "Making Of" segments of movies I like. Would I do the same for books? Or does that spoil the fun?

Let me know. I have reasons for almost everything I wrote. I'm willing to share many of them.

Titles Are Hard

After three years of blogging, I'm having trouble coming up with titles for my posts. Or my books.

TT: What about Elementary for Elementals? Make any more sense? I think I'm done worrying about it. The book is Elementals and that's that. 

I've stopped numbering or titling the chapter headings for Price of Justice. Asterisks will have to do the job until I've finished. Since I'm not 100% sure where the book is heading, and the same issues (you know, life and death, consequences for stupidity, power grabs, that sort of thing) keep coming up in every chapter for every POV character, the titles so far could all be "The Price."

Sounds utterly boring, doesn't it? I so don't want it to be boring. I don't want it to be depressing, either. Gotta find that happy ending.

I am writing, though. About an hour a night, which is all the stamina I seem to have at the moment, but an hour a night is better than nothing and it will get it done eventually. I'm back to writing on the laptop in the bedroom, away from the TV and the Internet. It's harder to edit using the fingerpad mouse, but it's easier to write new stuff. New stuff is what I need.

I'm also tentatively scheduling Star of Justice's book launch for Thursday, Oct 5, 6 PM at World Cup Cafe. I have to check with the owner that nothing else is happening that night, but I'm fairly confident that's the time.

TT: My Best Friend gave me a blank look when I told her about it. "Don't book launches happen when a book is published?" Yeah, yeah. I'm a Turtle. I do things in my own time. 

Just occurred to me I could do a reading of some portion of Price of Justice. That might be fun.

Why Canada?

I was thinking about zombie movies - I do that sometimes - and noticed a theme. The survivors want to flee to Canada.

Granted, I may not have an extensive familiarity with the genre, but the movies I have watched - Resident Evil et al., Night of the Living Dead et al., a rather well-made low-budget film on Syfy this weekend (although it claimed to be about vampires, but they acted more like zombies to me), um, that's all I can think of at the moment, but I'm sure I've watched more - show people trying to get to some mythical colony of survivors in Canada.

Why Canada?

Are zombies immune to cold? They're dead, so that doesn't seem likely. Zombies can cover any terrain humans can cover, so that's not a hindrance. Does Canada's smaller population figure into this? Fewer people means fewer potential zombies? Canada has fairly open borders. It's not like a hoard of zombies couldn't overwhelm a few mounties and hello, brothers to the north, welcome to the feast.

In case of zombie attack, I'd go toward South America. It's way easier to survive in a tropical climate than an arctic one. Unless animals also get zombified, but if that happens, a grizzly or wolf pack or family of beavers will kill you just as dead as a leopard or tapir. Granted, I might run into groups of armed non-zombified humans on the way, but isn't that a good thing? If the movies are accurate, maybe not, but human survivors also figure into the "fleeing to Canada" equation. Who knows? Maybe with everyone going north, south will be a wide-open straight shot to relative safety.

Seems the safest place to go is water. If it's a land-based attack, get off the land and wait the thing out. Unless you're a chemist, waiting for nature to restore balance is really the only option in the zombie apocalypse anyway, other than suicide.

Just something to think about on a Tuesday.

Gardens In Babylon

So glad I had the foresight (for once) to schedule Saturday's post last Monday. After six weeks of spotty service, my Internet went out for good Thursday morning and stayed out until my new service provider installed a cable Saturday around 7 PM. That's an eternity in Farmville time.

I must now cancel the old service and move on with my new life of NOT watching FX and Syfy 24/7. Speaking of which, what idiot changed Scifi to Syfy? Was that a hooked-on-phonics marketing ploy? It looks ridiculous. Of course, so do many of the shows, so maybe I'm overreacting.

Anyhoo, now that I'm caught up a bit on my Farmville fix, I'll be tweaking Faith Awakened's blog tour post to connect for real to all the other Splashdown authors who previewed stuff.

I've read the book. It was a little slow in places, but by the end, it all came together in a satisfyingly DOS-programmer kind of way. You'll have to read it to figure that out. I won't explain more here because of spoilers.

On to today's real topic. I think I'm finished with the book of Jeremiah. Can't be entirely sure since the chronological Bible I'm reading this year rearranges stuff and I haven't checked how many chapters Jeremiah has.

Allow me to set the stage. The northern kingdom of Israel has been scattered, and it's Judah's turn to face judgment for idolatry. The Babylonians relocate the majority of Judah's citizens throughout the kingdom of Babylon. Judah's false prophets are telling everybody this is a temporary setback and they'll be home shortly.

God gives Jeremiah a different story. He tells the Israelites to plant gardens, have kids and settle in for the long haul because they'll be captive for 70 years and they have some repopulating to do in the meanwhile. Naturally, God is right.

What I take from this (especially considering one of my recent posts) is the command to get on with life. Yes, things are difficult. Yes, I'm in an alien land facing unknown dangers. However, life goes on until it stops. Plant my garden and live.

I'm not saying I'll be having children any time soon (or at all, for that matter), but I want to take this as a new resolution to occupy until Christ's return. I will write because I don't know the future. I will save for retirement because I don't know the future. I will hope in Christ, my only hope, because He's the only future that matters.

The garden is planted, Lord. Now to tend it.

The Faith Awakened Video Campaign

Having seen a number of other authors’ successes with viral video collections, I decided to give it a go myself. The videos didn’t need to have anything much to do with the book – as long as they were funny, watchable and shareable and included the book details somewhere. I lived in Germany at the time and roped in lots of my friends to play parts. So you have a bunch of people holding my book who don’t even understand English. They were pretty good sports about it! Remember this was way back in 2007, with my first video camera, and judge accordingly...

Book Causes Spy to Change Sides

Find Grace:

http://grace.splashdownbooks.com

http://www.facebook.com/gracebridges1

http://pinterest.com/splashdown

Info on Faith Awakened

 

Blog Tour Sites:

R. L. Copple                      

Kat Heckenbach               

Diane M. Graham          

Travis Perry                       

Caprice Hokstad         

Keven Newsome    

Frank Creed                       

Fred Warren      
Ryan Grabow     

Greg Mitchell   

The Silver Key

"When Randolph Carter was thirty he lost the key of the gate of dreams." The Silver Key, H.P. Lovecraft

Do you ever read an interview by an author who sounds so excited about writing? He just can't spend enough time at the computer. She can't wait to get up and blurt out that next chapter.

I occasionally hate those people.

I remember being excited about writing. In college, I wrote all the time. If I wasn't in class or getting a frozen yogurt from the gas station across the street, I was writing. It was mostly melodramatic garbage, but some fun ideas came from it. Elementals. A Star To Sail By (you all don't know about that one, but if the Earth continues to exist, I will write it). Past Ties, which laid the groundwork for Star of Justice and future forays into that world. Several really goofy romances that may or may not see the light of day. I couldn't write enough.

I hit thirty and something happened. I grew up. I looked around. I saw the world for the near-the-end place I believe it to be and nothing mattered anymore. Why write a book no one will have money to buy or energy to read? I became a fatalist, and the key to dreams slipped out of my hands.

"He had read much of things as they are, and talked with too many people. Well-meaning philosophers had taught him to look into the logical relations of things, and analyse the processes which shaped his thoughts and fancies."

Oh, Mr. Carter, I understand. That's the greatest horror of all. The horror of too much understanding.

"They had chained him down to things that are, and had then explained the working of those things till mystery had gone out of the world.

How do you write fanciful stories when you don't believe in fairy tales anymore? It is hard, dear reader. Very hard.

Doubt creeps in. Every typed word is over-analyzed and sterilized to correctness. Have I provided enough motivation? Am I missing some new scientific discovery that makes my storyline obsolete and ridiculous? When will I read that final comment that shatters any desire I have to share the stories I've dredged from the looming cynicism my life threatens to become?

I'm not depressed at the moment. I wish I were. I wish I could blame this on some chemical imbalance, but to do that, I'd have to say I've been mildly depressed for 10 years. Maybe I have. Reality can do that.

I keep hoping going through the motions will revive that excitement. One day I'll wake early to rush to my keyboard and spew out my next epiphany. Since the sun keeps rising and electricity keeps flowing, I'll keep trying. I have enough hope left for that.

Happy Friday, everybody. We have the day. Make the best of it. 

Horror According to Lovecraft

I've never felt an inclination to write horror. Well, except for that time I read the spaceship chapter of How To Survive A Horror Movie. Part of me really, really wants to write a space horror spoof, but it would so NOT be glorifying to God I'm not sure I can justify it, even for the funny.

Lovecraft knows horror, and his early works managed creepy crawly without even describing the creepy crawly too much. That is my biggest gripe with some of his early stuff. There's only so much "unnameable hideousness" and "indescribable horror" I can tolerate before I want him to try to describe it.

He gets more graphic in the 1920's, so I won't dwell overlong on that criticism.

Here's what's scary according to Lovecraft:

Murky water (swamps, sludge-covered oceans, bogs) that eventually erupts with corrosive smells and blobby or gigantic figures from hell.

Ancient, abandoned cities visible only in unnatural moonlight that echo with weird screams and either suggest or disgorge blobby or gigantic figures from hell.

Cellars found in old houses or ancient, abandoned cities that lead to hell and often involve glimpses of or encounters with blobby or gigantic figures.

Caverns that lead to hell and... yeah, you get the idea about the creatures, right? The blobby or disproportionally large non-human creatures made the more hideous by a small resemblance to humanity in an otherwise completely alien life form?

Stars that glow with reddish light and cause hysterical dreaming and the occasional parallel dimension traveling. 

Parallel dimensions visible in drug-induced states that reveal glimpses of hellish, other-worldly creatures that would destroy us all if they bothered to notice we're here.

Swarthy, low-browed subhumans of far-below animal intelligence who somehow manage to exist in otherwise civilized cities.

Anything that pre-dates human civilization, especially savage rites involving human sacrifice.

Funny thing. He's right about the water and the cellars/caverns, and I'm willing to give him a nod on the abandoned cities. I've never been creeped out by a star before, and I won't be trying any consciousness altering drugs stronger than a Melted Snowball, but I've gotta admit, the man knows horror. 

Thinking should I ever write that space horror story, I'll have to work a blobby giant in somewhere.

Nightmares and H.P. Lovecraft

I won't be reading Lovecraft right before bed anymore.

Although I have been chewing on The Complete Collection of H.P. Lovecraft as compiled by cthuluchic from Amazon for Kindle at the ridiculously reasonable price of .99 for approximately 4 months like a ghoul gnawing on a freshly dug corpse, I have yet to pass the 25% mark.The man was prolific.

I've seriously enjoyed most of the stories and been completely creeped out by several of them (The Outsider and The Picture In The House being two I remember clearly). The Rats in the Walls gave me shudders, but Pickman's Model was apparently too much.

Yes, after reading that story, I succumbed to a terror so intense that after waking, I couldn't decide if I wanted to turn on the light to assure myself that all was well or leave it off in case it wasn't. The last time I had a nightmare that intense was following the debut of The Grudge.

This particular nightmare involved siblings Ivy and Isaiah, the basement level of a concrete parking garage and a child's toy whose unnatural proportions spoke of eldritch planes of existence. Yep. Been reading too much Lovecraft.

I won't stop reading, but I will be doing it earlier in the day. With all the lights on. And the curtains open. And a cat or two nearby. And maybe a neighbor.

Where's that nightlight?

Plumping Up on Bubbly Pies

If you've read any of Anne McCaffrey's dragons of Pern books, you know what a "bubbly pie" is. You know it has crystallized sugar around the edges and bubbles in the middle when it comes out of the oven and remains delicious even when cooled. You suspect it's about the size of a personal pot pie and contains some kind of berry filling. It's a special treat and when they're made, you stuff yourself. Oh, you don't know how to make one. You don't have a chance in Hades of ever eating one. But you want one.

You also know the people drink klah, some kind of hot beverage made from bark that to my mind is a hot chocolate-cinnamon hybrid. You know they use numbweed to anesthetize wounds - a salve distilled at great effort from aloe-like plants harvested on the Southern Continent. You've slurped into a redfruit and saddled a runnerbeast and oiled a fire lizard.

You know how you've done these things? Through description.

Creating a world is a complicated process, but showing that world to your readers takes work. It takes description. It takes you the author presenting your case to the reader in an interesting way that engages their senses through that most amazing sense organ - the brain.

I'm all for stories moving forward. I resent useless description as much as the next LOTR-fan who's slogged through three pages of hills to get to the "point." However, stories that move forward by sacrificing sensory details and world-setting descriptors leave me flat.

If you don't want to get rain in your eye, or stuff a sausage in your mouth, or dodge spatter from a sword fight, don't pick up my book. Go to those mainstream authors who write so fast you're panting by the time you turn the last page. I have no problem with that.

I'll be here trying to make bubbly pies.

Brighter Morning

A six and a half hour nap bracketed by the Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law Sherlock Holmes movies has helped restore some perspective. That, and some ice cream.

Every artist has those moments when she looks at her art and despairs. It isn't Star of Justice so much. That book is done, and I'm trying to move on.

Price of Justice has me climbing walls. Mom suggested I stop writing it, but that's impossible. It's my next book. You'll all just have to bear with me when the compost that is my initial draft overwhelms my sense of perspective.

What you must understand, dear reader, is that ultimately my writing is my responsibility. I can have the best crit group in the world, the best editors, the best publisher, even the best intentions, but it all boils down to "what will I do with this story?"

That isn't arrogance. I can ask "what do you think I should do?" but you'll give me your opinion, not the answer to life, the universe and everything. If I ask that question of every person, I have, at best, a democratic parody where the majority rules and, at worst, a different opinion for every person I ask. What am I supposed to do with that?

I don't want to write by majority rule. I have to work out my own problems in my own way and that's all there is, really.

I'm just not accustomed to feeling so lost so early. Oh well. Inward and upward.

On a brighter note, God gave me one of those little treasures I seek. A moth flew into my car on Saturday, a big, brown moth that went right under my dashboard where I didn't have a hope in heaven of finding it and getting it out to continue its short life. Tears flowed until I looked up and discovered the moth fluttering against the passenger side window, waiting to be released. A silly thing, yes, but it's my silly thing. Thank You, Lord.

Thank you, too, for my friends who took a moment to support me. I love you guys. I'm doing better.

The Little Things

"It's the little things in life you treasure." Fred Kwan, Galaxy Quest

Normally, I agree with Fred. Celebrate the small stuff because that's all most of us will ever see.

The last couple of weeks, however, it's been hard to enjoy even the small stuff. I want to blame hormones, but it's more likely the little, unexpected, mostly unpleasant changes happening in my life.

The Olympics have put a complete end to my TV routine for I don't know how long. That shouldn't be a bad thing, but it is disruptive. One of my cats has cavities that must be treated. Several of my friends are changing their life circumstances in ways that directly affect my life circumstances. My car sickens while I put aside money to buy a new one. My dog sprouts these little blisters that may or may not be heat-related. My daily Bible reading just finished Isaiah and has started in Jeremiah. Have you read Jeremiah? Road construction has forced a change of driving routine and added about 5 minutes to my commute, which totals 20 minutes more a day in the hot car avoiding stupid people in the same situation. Grandma Turtle's one year anniversary just passed and I miss her. I have a tingling in my left hand that may be nerve-related instead of jaw-related and I don't want to deal with it. I intended to garden this morning and instead spent two hours trying to deal with my hacked email account. I'm now so wound up with frustration, I don't know what to do with myself.

Yes, they're all small, ultimately meaningless tripe, but they're wearing me down.

Add to them the writing issues, and I'm thinking about packing up my cats and moving somewhere far, far away. Not Idaho. Apparently stupid people live there.

I eavesdrop on several writing groups. I rarely jump in for various reasons depending on the group, but I follow the discussions somewhat. I need to stop.

Aslan tells Lucy in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader that no good comes from eavesdropping, and he's right. Proverbs says gossip is like a tasty morsel going down that sours the stomach. I've got the stomach to prove it.

I now worry that I didn't do justice to Ehsu's dialogue, that good stories don't include God because God as the ultimate superpower removes all tension, that my preferred writing style (and reading style, btw) of "plump with description" instead of "action-focused" (I may post on that later) means I'm a poor writer who lacks the ability to edit herself and that writing as a job will shortly go the way of the dodo, so everything I do at this computer is utterly meaningless.

That could be the depression talking.

It's important to remember, people, behind the arrogance of the writer is a huge well of self-doubt. We're putting ourselves out there in a show of bravery, but that doesn't mean we're brave or that we have everything figured out or that we even think we've done a good job. It just means we're trying.

I'm my own worst critic. I don't need more reasons to doubt myself.

I am searching for those little things to treasure, but at the moment, they are few and far between. I hope your life is full of them.

The Swamp in July

Taking advantage of a rare not-100-degrees-at-6-AM morning, I wandered the garden and snapped a few pics.

My Swamp has been through a lot in the last year. Sewer line replacement, tree removal, and drought have all taken their toll, yet some beauty remains, mostly thanks to the annuals.

Bermuda grass is taking over with abandon. I'm letting it because it's keeping the little soil I have from blowing away in the humid Kansas wind. I will regret that decision but I'm not about to go fight Bermuda grass in 106 degrees. In case you're not familiar with Bermuda grass, it loves the heat, it grows by seed and by runners and it's almost impossible to kill. It's pretty much a weed but most Kansans put up with it because it actually grows here. I hate grass, so I hate Bermuda grass. It's that simple.

My "Early Girl" tomato has officially broken through its support and creeps toward the house, I suspect, in pursuit of fresh fertilizer. I'm extremely wary of reaching into its depths to pick tomatoes for fear my arm won't come back out. Mom suggests a short story will come of it. She may be right.

I'm thinking I may take tomorrow morning, you know, before 8 AM and 100 degrees, to go out back and try to restore some semblance of order. Then again, I may wait until December's probable mid-80 temperatures to tackle it. At this rate, another few months will see the entire back yard consumed by Bermuda and all I'll have to do is mow.

I hate mowing, too. I'm not letting this garden go without a fight.

Schedule Interrupted

Like my cats, the Turtle is a creature of habit. 

My schedule this week has been filled with unexpected, although not necessarily unwelcome, interruptions and they are taking a toll. I handled last night's loss of Internet rather well, I think, although it did lead to a somewhat restless sleep as I considered my options should it not be restored. My posting this means I have Internet for the moment.

A normal person probably takes change in stride and compensates. I must assume this since I'm not a normal person. Change staggers me and throws all life into confusion until routine is restored. No wonder I relate so strongly to Dr. Sheldon Cooper. His issues are my issues. 

I will hopefully make it through the rest of the week with my patience intact, although I expect some manner of retribution to occur Saturday. We'll see.

If you don't see me hanging about FB or email on schedule, it's because my Internet quit again and I'm hammering my modem into a charm bracelet to pass the time.

What My Book Says About You

Yes, I'm doing it again. I'm reading my own interpretations into your perfectly normal and reasonable actions.

Most readers are familiar with the idea that a book says a lot about the author. Unless you're a reading machine who devours books the way some devour gummi bears and never bother to think about them as you go, I suspect at some point you've read a passage and wondered what the author had to go through to come up with that idea. At least, I hope you have. It's OK to think about a book as more than a story.

I maintain the first book an author writes is a therapy book: meaning, intentionally or unintentionally, we write it as part of our own therapy. I may think this because I trained as a marriage and family therapist and tend to view the world through that lens (relax. It's a strengths-based lens and I'm looking for what's right with you, not what's wrong).  I will concede - grudgingly - that the first book written may not be the first book published, but I suspect it is more often than not. 

Why? Because writing and completing a book is hard work. Very hard work. Something drives the author to work that hard not only to finish but share his masterpiece, and I posit it is his desire to tell his story in whatever altered form his subconscious dreams up. He may disagree if he wishes, but I will apply Shakespeare's "the lady doth protest too much, methinks" and he'll lose anyway.  No offense, gentlemen.

I've written in this topic elsewhere, and I'm sure I'll write about it again, so I'll move on to my title theme.

What I did not realize before I published is how often a reader approaches my book with an automatic bias. The difference may be that I now hand over a brick with a picture on the cover and a concise little blurb on the back that supposedly sums up the story (it doesn't, really. No blurb ever does justice to the real story) which allows the reader to form an opinion other than "Good Lord! That's a 4 inch, two ream, 6 lb binder you're handing me!" And God bless all of you who took it.

Since I've handed over that brick, I've heard "Dragon-worshippers? So they're the bad guys?", "Ooo, shape-shifters," and my personal favorite so far, "Blood? You wrote a book with blood in it?" Each of these statements says more about the speaker than me. Why assume dragon-worshippers are bad guys? What makes "shape-shifters" stand out? Why is it so surprising I would write about blood? Have you met me?

It's almost as interesting as the questions and comments I get after the book is read. It's fascinating to see which parts capture people's attention, especially when I compare their reactions to what I intended when I wrote it or what I wanted people to take away from it.

TT: It is amazing how we manage to communicate with each other at all. Our separate experiences and focuses are so different, how can my words mean the same thing as your words, and how does that meaning travel through sound or sight and take up residence in your brain in any shape remotely similar to my intention? Wow. Just...wow.

I almost didn't write this because I fear shutting down those comments and questions that fascinate me so much, like Captain Picard who couldn't think what to say when he discovered the empath loved listening to his voice. I do hope you'll keep asking and commenting. It's my story, after all. I want to tell it.

The Definitive Guide to Star of Justice

Great idea, huh? A sort of Cliff's Notes version of my 400+ page monster?

As part of this new Splashdown Blog Tour idea, we authors can submit snippets of our works to pique interest in readers and tell why we like those snippets. This led me to consider my favorite snippets. Guess what? Almost all of them contain plot spoilers.

I'm not saying you can't swing a small dragon without hitting a plot point in my book, but...almost. I am saying the bits I love the best are the bits where you the reader get a solid dose of character angst or plot revelation. Those were the parts I lived for, and I spread them around liberally.

One of the few daydreams I do have about Star of Justice is seeing it show up as "recommended reading" for an English class, or, when I get really high on Melted Snowballs, a textbook for "Great American Authors." One of my greatest fears is my book showing up in such a class and everybody getting it "all wrong" when it comes to interpretation. Why I wrote what I wrote. What I meant to convey as opposed to what the reader gets out of it. I've seen what history has done to Tolkien.

Control freak that I am, it is tempting to consider writing a Definitive Guide for future reference. Hard to argue my intentions when I spell them out for you on paper. Not impossible. Just hard. However, since such a book would be one giant spoiler, I suppose I'll write it on the sly and request my great-nieces publish it posthumously.

The goddess Nike

I got about 3 hours of sleep, which forcibly reminds me, once again, to NOT drink a Melted Snowball after 5 PM. Yes, it was maybe 4 oz. Yes, that's all it takes to keep The Turtle wide-eyed into the wee hours. Stupid espresso.

We got some lovely rain last night, too, and I was wide awake to enjoy it. Thank You for that, Lord.

When writing inspiration lacks, my last resort is following the precepts of the goddess Nike and "just doing it." Sometimes, you just need to do something. Last night, after my espresso and before my failed attempt to sleep, I edited pages 50 to 57. I pared down the telling, corrected directional issues and once again got the story back on track.

I refuse to allow two paragraphs to hold me up for two weeks anymore. It's just silly. I have an entire book to tell stuff in, and if I can't find the right spot in 400 pages, I can write a short story later. No big deal. This is writing, not rocket science. Just do it.

Here's hoping tonight's writing time will see similar, if not more substantial, success.

38 Down, 56 To Go

Page 38 of my WIP has stumped me for weeks. I sit at the computer, open the file, and stare at page 38 while it mocks me with its inaccuracy. Actually, I stared at two paragraphs of page 38 that just didn't fit there. Monday night I finally figured out how to cut them (turns out I just "cut" them and pasted them into my delete file. Why did that take me so long?). Circulation returned, the rest of the chapter now made sense and I moved on with my story.

Then I ran into page 56. Same thing. Timeline out of whack. Directions all messed up. Motivations unclear. It's more than one or two paragraphs this time. I'm looking at what could be "telling" or what could be the ramblings of an increasingly unhinged narrative mind (no, I don't mean me).

Caissa's narrative is generally straight forward with occasional detours as bits of trivia get sucked along for the ride. In SoJ, I worked to keep this extraneous info in her spoken dialogue and generally only when she was under stress.

Well, she's under stress from page 1 (actually, pg 50) in this book, so the extraneous info keeps oozing into her thoughts/general narration.

I can't have her say it, because her companion knows most of it. There'd be no point. I'm considering cutting it, but some of it should be known and this is really the best place I can imagine to bring the reader up to speed. So, last night, I stared at page 56 and it glared back, mocking me with its bloated inaccuracy.

I refuse to be stopped for weeks, though. It is way past time to be done with this foolishness, so, tonight, with my bag of Doritos beside me and the promise of half an hour of Sherlock "A Study in Pink" as my reward, I will untangle this silly mess and move on.

It really is the least I can do.

How to Resussitate a Drowned Spider or Insect Should You Ever Really Want To

I warned you.

Have no fear, arachnophobes. I'll show no pictures.

First, the spider must be newly drowned. If more than a few minutes have elapsed, your only course of action is respectful disposal of the corpse. Unless your conscience calls for an act of contrition. I'll leave that up to you.

Get the spider out of the water. Bit obvious, yes, but must be said.

Depending on how long he's been in the water, he may be a little crumpled. If so, use a sturdy piece of paper or cardboard as a support. I recommend taking him outside for the rest. If you're successful in your efforts, you'll have a live spider on your paper awake and ready to explore the world. If you're not, you can put him on the compost bin and go about your business.

Using a small paintbrush, carefully "paint" the spider out of its crumpled position into something resembling a normal spider resting pose. Legs should be untangled and body as straight as possible. I cannot stress how important it is to be gentle at this point if you don't want bits of detached spider sticking to your paintbrush. The paintbrush serves the purpose of not only being more gentle than your big, clumsy finger but it also removes the water that soaked into the poor little spider's exoskeleton. The paper helps with this, too.

If you see signs of movement at this time, don't freak out. It may be life returning or it may be the spider's legs collapsing inward from lack of blood pressure (meaning it's really dead and you should go through his pockets and look for loose change). 

Once the spider's body has been returned to a semblance of normalcy, leave him alone. Put the paper in a quiet, shaded spot where the wind won't blow it away but the air has a chance to circulate and continue the drying process. Check on him as often as your nerves can handle.

If you're successful, the spider will revive and leave. If you're not, have some ice cream and try to get over it. You did more than 99.9% of people would ever do for a spider.

That's something.

Rift Jump by Greg Mitchell

 Rift Jump by Greg Mitchell

The day Michael Morrison died was the day his life began.

A sinister threat is growing in the void between realities, and Michael has been recruited to stop it. Ripped from his own violent life, he is sent rift jumping to other worlds seeking out the agents of the Dark and putting them to an end by any means necessary. The love of his life, Sara, joins him as he battles Civil War space ships, sea serpents, superpowered humans, and even his own duplicate from a parallel timeline.

But the darkness he fights is growing within him too, calling him to the same destiny as every other Michael from every other world. If he is to change his fate, he must learn to love, to forgive, to trust, and to let the man in the Stetson guide him to become the warrior of the Light he was always meant to be.

Interview with Greg Mitchell

How did you get started writing fiction?

Because I find non-fiction boring. :p As a child, I actually wanted to be a Disney animator (back when they still drew their cartoons), then I wanted to write and draw comic books. My art was never quite up to my standard, though, and I felt really limited in the stories I could tell. Then I set my sights on making movies, but then I was also limited. I had these really huge concepts, but couldn’t find the money to finance the films. I began taking my silver screen stories to prose, where there is no budget. The sky’s the limit. I think in writing fiction, I’ve finally found a way to tell stories where there are no boundaries.

Why did you choose to sign on with Splashdown Books?

I’ve known Grace for awhile and had always wanted to work with her on a project. Have a little jam session. I admire and respect her and what she’s done with Splashdown a great deal. When I started writing Rift Jump, I knew that there was no way a traditional or “typical” Christian publisher would ever take it. It’s very strange, kinda gritty, and a hard genre to nail down (even I have trouble describing it!) and I feared none of the mainstream types would know what to do with it, marketing-wise. Heck, I wasn’t even sure Grace would know what to do with it, but I sent it to her nonetheless and, to my joy, she readily accepted it.

What are your contact links: web sites, blogs, Facebook, Twitter links, your book's page, etc.?

I’m everywhere!

Website: http://www.thecomingevil.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/thecomingevil

Twitter: http://twitter.com/TCEauthor

To order Rift Jump: http://www.splashdownbooks.com/darkwater/rift-jump

Visit the following blogs on this Splashdown Blog Tour for Rift Jump by Greg Mitchell.

Grace Bridges            

Fred Warren               

Caprice Hokstad       

Paul Baines                

Travis Perry               

R. L. Copple               

Keven Newsome         

Kat Heckenbach        

Ryan Grabow              

Frank Creed                

Stay Tuned

Splashdown Books, my publisher, is trying something new to us. All of us SB authors will join in a twice a month blog tour of a newly-released SB book and an older title. We're just getting started so we may experience a few glitches as we go.

I don't follow blog tours generally, but I've been checking out the sites of my fellow authors this morning and enjoying the results. My own glimpse of Greg Mitchell's Rift Jump posts tomorrow (and will stay up through the weekend), but if you're curious now, you can start with Kat Heckenbach's site (on my Blogs I Follow list) and then follow the links she's posted at the end of her interview. Every blog will have something different about the book and the author, so take a few minutes to jump around the Internet while you're drinking your coffee. You may accidentally enjoy yourself.

It's certainly more fun than waiting for Farmville to load 4 times.

TUTAW: You Won't Be There

A long, long time ago, a published author told me odds are, I won't be there when a reader picks up my book. I won't be standing beside them in the store. I won't be sitting next to them when they turn the first page. I won't be able to explain anything they don't understand.

This led to my first rule in accepting critiques: don't argue.

I will not argue with a crit partner when she brings up something that bothers her. I may ask more questions to get to the root of the problem, but I will not try to explain what I meant and leave it at that.

Because I won't have that chance with a reader.

If my meaning isn't clear, it's my fault. I'm the writer. I'm the one with something to say. It's up to me to say it as clearly as I know how.

It's true some people will never understand me. Not because of any lack on their part or my part but because our life experiences are so different we have no point of common ground on which to build. Those people will glance at my stories and move on. I'm OK with that. I suspect they are, too.

However, there is no reason for the vast majority of people, especially those people who would normally read my genre, to misunderstand me. My meaning should be clear, even if the meaning is "I'm not going to give you a definitive answer to that question."

TT: Be very careful how often you do that, btw. It irritates the snot out of people.

You've been warned. You won't be there. Write accordingly.

Staring at God

The Big Guy and I are having a staring contest over at

The Cheesecake Thickens.

Right here, too:

It should surprise none of my readers that I am a verbal person. My college years were spent learning therapeutic communication. My learning style is primarily auditory (which means I rocked at lecture classes). I think in words, not pictures, and certainly not emotions.

I have, at times in my life, been at a loss for words. Generally bad times. The most vivid was the year I spent so angry at God all I could say to Him was The Lord's Prayer. I said it sullenly, but I said it. I was like those disciples who remained after Jesus' hard teaching turned the crowds away. "Where else can we go?" they asked. "Only You have the truth." I don't like you very much, but You're all I've got, so I better stick close, you big meanie. OK, that part wasn't in the Bible story, but I'm sure some of them were feeling it. 

I'm not angry at God (much), but I'm tired. I've said everything I know how to say. I've pleaded, I've begged, I've railed and I've cried. I don't have any more words. 

I'm watching people I love do stupid things. I'm watching people I care about go through intense trials. I'm fighting my own exhaustion and interrupted schedule and losing. My garden dies for lack of rain, and I find dead sparrows in the parking garage stairwell. Every little pain seems amplified into mortal wounding and I'm tired of talking about it. Even to God.

So, He and I stare at each other. I don't understand what He's thinking or doing (I never have), but I'm not going anywhere and neither is He. I've said it all. It's His turn to speak, if He chooses. I'm listening.

Maybe you've been there, too.

The Joys of Cutting

Just reset my WIP word count and I'm pleased to announce I've lost 4K words. Don't worry. I plan to add about 80K more, so you'll have plenty to read when I'm done. "Telling" got cut. Way too much telling.

I discovered it's very easy to cut things if, instead of just "deleting," I move them to a "future events" file. I trick my brain into thinking I'll use them somewhere else, and then I don't mind removing them from where they are. Odds are, I'll never use any of it in its entirety, but don't tell my brain, OK? This is working.

Took two tries to get started writing last night, but the second was moderately successful. I'm back at the part where Rhami is going two directions at once (pg 38 - Oi) and I'm pushing past it. My first draft had them arrive way too soon (over-sight) and consequently, I'll have to rearrange a bit to get the timeline back in sync. It's wibbly-wobbly, so shouldn't present too much of a problem.

I'm going to have to write a TUTAW (The Ugly Truth About Writing) about the hard work involved in planning. I sort of did such a post a month ago, but I have more to say. Or maybe just more organized things to say.

Speaking of organized...

We Splashdown folks are working on a how-to book (seriously hoping that's not a secret) and I'm contributing a chapter. Talk about pressure. Allow me to explain.

Teaching requires mastery. Lots of teachers don't know this, which is why America's education system is in the mess it's in.

I'm no master at writing. At best, I'm an idiot savant. Mostly an idiot with flashes of brilliance. That doesn't mean I have the foggiest notion how to transmit those momentary flashes into something concrete and replicable (Is that a word? Spell check offered it). Yet, I'm asked to comment on a topic with enough authority to justify purchase by a student of writing. Pressure indeed.

It is reminiscent of my college English days, except this time, I understand what the teacher wants from me.

TT: Poor Mrs. Warren. I really had no idea, dear lady, and you tried so hard to explain. It's not your fault. My brain was saturated with the arrogance of youth, frozen yogurt and the dazzling novelty of social interaction. You couldn't have gotten through with hot fudge and pecans. I'm very sorry.

I've written the first draft of that how-to chapter. My deadline was last Saturday, but we all got a slight extension, so I'll be fiddling with it over the weekend. I suspect at some point, we'll play Mad-Hatter's-Tea-Party for editing purposes and I'll be rewriting as well as editing for others. At least I hope so. Even I know I'm not ready for publication after two drafts.

My Bed, My Enemy

Mom tells a story from my childhood when my cat jumped on a hamster cage in the middle of the night. The cage fell over, the hamster escaped briefly, the cat protested the loss of a snack and I slept through the whole thing, even though it happened in my room.

Those days are long gone.

I may be legally blind, and what I smell is more often in my brain than in the air, but my ears work just fine. Unless I'm absolutely exhausted or drugged on Benedryl, I hear everything both inside and outside my house.

I hear the cats moving around in the basement. I hear the dog sigh in her sleep. I hear the wind in the trees, and I hear the train crossing the tracks in the wee hours of the morning. You'd think I'd be used to the train by now. I'm not.

I know how to "go to bed." For the most part, I turn off everything "stimulating" one hour before I lie down. No TV. No books. No radio. No intense activity, although I do a little tidying so I won't stay awake worrying about what needs to be done in the morning.

My eyes burn. My eyelids are heavy. My mind seems calm (although how can one truly tell with a mind?).

I lie down, I turn off the light, and everything wakes up. It's like those old baby dolls with the weighted eyes only in reverse. I stand up; I'm tired. I lie down; I'm still tired, but sleep is impossible.

I know all the experts say to get up and do something, but I don't. I'm mentally prepared to toss and turn in a darkened room at 2 AM, but I can't handle the thought of sitting in a chair at the same time. I always have the chance I'll fall asleep lying down. That will never happen in one of my chairs.

I suspect part of it is the heat. Can't really sleep when I'm either throwing off covers for being too hot or flailing around for covers when the air kicks on. That's an every 90 minute cycle.

I suspect part of it is July 4th. I never sleep well with either the threat of fire or the intermittent noise. My neighbors don't just set their death-makers off at once. Oh, no. Near as I can tell, they space them out every 15 to 30 minutes just to guarantee I'm awake. Last night, I'm pretty sure they left to buy more around midnight so the fun could continue until I had no chance whatsoever for a decent night.

Hey, at least the house is still here, right?

I'm most excited about going to work on a Thursday, which is generally a hard day anyway, that will now double as a second Monday after a holiday. Good times await, I'm sure.

OK, I Did It

I did. I won't do it again, I'm sure, but I did it.

I went to Amazon to look at Star of Justice.

I know. I said I wouldn't, and I big fat went and did it anyway.

Fortunately, nothing has changed, except it now says there are four books in stock. That means for those of you waiting for them to be "in stock" to buy, you may now buy.

Still have two reviews. My rank is somewhere in the 1.3 million area (first time I looked at that). I assume that's where I started.

That's fine. I'm good with that. I'm not looking anywhere else. Just sleep-deprivation getting the better of me.

Happy 4th, everybody. Hope you enjoy flirting with death this evening. I know I won't.

A Rant Is Brewing

I'm not lost yet. I have a few threads of self-control waiting to snap, but they're fraying rapidly.

I could comment on the stupidity of married people. Don't you understand you're our example? It's up to you to show us singles that the whole "becoming one" thing is worth it.

You're failing miserably.

I could comment on the stupidity of people in general. Don't you understand that three weeks of no rain and 100+ temperatures translates into "don't set off bottle rockets and Roman candles in your backyard," even if it is the Fourth of July? And really don't do it past 11 PM on a work night, or I will call the cops on your drunken buttocks, you selfish morons. And I'll give them a reason to book me into jail because you'll have had a little accident in the wait.

TT: I asked God to just kill them. Or at least maim them severely enough to have to go to hospital and leave me in peace. He didn't. He's nicer than I am, which is why you should all be grateful I'm not God.

I could go on ad nauseum about the loading issues I'm having with my computer and the Internet. It isn't just Farmville now. I can't tell if my DSL is acting screwy again or if some update didn't load properly, and frankly I'm at the end of whatever rope I'm not hanging myself with.

But, since I have those few threads wrapped so tightly around my self-control it's turning blackish-purple, I won't rant. No point. Doesn't change a thing.

Have a great Fourth, people. Try not to blow yourselves up. Or don't. Don't really care at the moment.

I need a nap.

The Lost Princess

In my continuing search for an alternate title for Elementals, I'm considering The Lost Princess.

Yes, it's been done before, but hear me out.

1) It has been done before. An Amazon search yields four titles, meaning I increase my odds of getting seen by people looking for something else. It could also be said I risk losing attention as a potential reader gets distracted or confused by those other titles, but I may be willing to take that chance.

2) It could apply to either princess. Glorya certainly gets physically lost and Dyana is the prodigal sheep. Am I mixing my parables?

Why not go for the plural, then? Because "princesses" sounds stupid and is annoying to hiss at people. Better to keep it simple and singular.

3) I'm not finding any one or two words to express the multiple dualistic elements of the story. I considered "Essentials," but it sounds like a feminine hygiene product or a line from Victoria's Secret. I'm not OK with people finding that in a search. Suggestions from my test readers tend to focus on one or the other of the story lines, depending on their preferences, so I'm not getting anywhere that way. I've been thinking of it as Elementals for so long, I'm nearly useless in calling it anything else.

4) Finally, it pays homage to one of my favorite authors and favorite books: George MacDonald's The Lost Princess, which I found in my Amazon search, btw. Of course, there is only one princess in that story (Agnes is a shepherd's daughter) but nothing is perfect.

I'm not devoted to the idea, but it's the best I've managed so far.

Why change it? You've asked that before. I'm not sure I should, but since I have creatures called "elementals" in Star of Justice, I don't want readers to think that this book has anything to do with that world other than the same author. It doesn't. I don't even have a sequel planned for Elementals, although a few ideas have floated about in the empty space between 3 and 4 AM.

Which reminds me I'm once again cycling through insomnia, so beware. Crankiness always follows lack of sleep for the turtle.

How to Write a Review

Dear Readers, you've been pestered by authors you know to not only read their book(s) but to write a review for it.

How scary!

You're not a writer. You got C's in English and that was because the teacher liked you. You can't remember the last time you wrote a thank-you note, let alone an essay. Best just to nod politely and scuttle away when your author friend is distracted, right?

Wrong. It doesn't have to be hard to write a review. It doesn't have to take all day, or even require spell check (which Amazon may actually have).

A review is for another reader. They don't expect you to write a treatise on the book. They don't expect you to sum it up for them. In fact, they'd rather you didn't. Amazon prefers reviews be fewer than 300 words. This post will be longer than 300 words.

Think of it as a "comment" about the book.

Just tell one thing you liked and one thing you didn't. That's not hard. The more specific you are, the better, unless you give away secrets. That's no fun for anybody.

Some examples: "I liked how the main character was always cracking jokes at the worst time." "I keep thinking about the story and wondering what they're doing now." "I loved the dragon! He was so cool!" Well, that one isn't terribly specific, but sometimes that's what you've got.

What you didn't like? Some examples: "She kept using 'like this' or 'like that.' It got on my nerves." "The story got pretty complicated in the middle. I had to stop and reread a couple times to make sure I understood." "I hated the ending. I prefer happy endings." OK, that's almost a plot-spoiler but it counts.

See? Simple. You're looking at 15 minutes, tops. Unless you get carried away. You may find you like writing comments about a book. Just keep in mind - no spoilers. Save those for that blog you're going to start for book reviews.

Give it a try. Amazon is really easy for review posting and it is the biggest online seller of books. You'll never have to avoid your writer friend again.

Star of Justice Pronunciation Guide

Yes, I gave you one.

I posted at The Cheesecake Thickens and I'll post it over at Ranunculus Turtle the Facebook Page.

I'll also print it here, just in case you missed it:

I had one. Created it years ago. I left it out of the book because...well, because I had enough of the "high fantasy" genre flags with a map, a quest, a story that took days instead of hours and a world different from Earth. I just didn't want that last nail in the coffin of sub-genre labeling.

TT: Not sure why I object to the label "high fantasy." It should appeal to the elitist in me. Maybe it does and that annoys me.

I also had a high enough page count I couldn't justify adding another two just so people could pronounce made-up words. I made a mistake. Not my first.

Readers appear to be more comfortable with a pronunciation guide. I've had three specifically ask for one, and I've had two others respond with "Oh, that's how you say that?"

Yes, that's how I say that, but it doesn't have to be the way you say it. I come from a State where creek and crik are the same thing (a tiny running stream, in case you're not a Kansan). You can pronounce my made-up words any way you like and I don't mind.

But, for those who absolutely, positively believe the only way to pronounce a made-up word is the way I pronounce it, here ya go:

PRONUNCIATION GUIDE:
Aerion (AIR-ee-on)
Aeriad (A-ree-ADD)
Caissa Ocren (CAY-shuh OH-cren)
Dryad (DRY-ad)
Ehsu (EH-soo)
Flamas (FLAHM-ahs)
Galena (Guh-LAY-nuh)
Gamaliel (Guh-MAY-lee-el)
Golor (GAH-lahr)
Gowan Rudebec (GOW-an Ruhd-a-BECK)
Grambage Garralar (GRAM-badge GAR-uh-lahr)
Indira Sampath (in-DEER-ah SAM-path)
Manarot (MAN-ah-row)
Merritt MacEwan (MARE-it mac-YOU-en)
Naiad (NIGH-ad)
Neriadim (NARE-ee-ah-DEEM)
Oread (OR-ee-ad)
Nauvoo Vehle (NOW-voo VELL-uh)
Radiac (RAY-dee-ack)
Rhami Harvarkoset (RAH-mee HAR-VAR-koh-set)
Shanti (shawn-TEE)

See, Kansans tend to emphasize the first syllable of a two syllable word. That's really the trick to pronouncing any word in my world. If there's a word you don't see up there and want to, leave me a comment. I'll be happy to tell you how to pronounce it the Kansas way.

* * *

If you go to Facebook, "like" my page while you're there, will ya?

Speculative Faith and Kat Heckenbach

My good friend and vicious editor Kat Heckenbach guested over at Speculative Faith yesterday about mixed messages and preachy fiction.

While I would normally give her inordinate amounts of compost for suggesting opposing ideas can be equally true, she makes a good case for balanced presentation of opposing ideas. Check her out over there, and if you like what you read, check out her book Finding Angel (I helped edit) to see how she uses balance in her own writing.

You won't be disappointed.

She also mentions the Iguana's Winter, another excellent read for YA and adult. If you think the name is familiar, Iguana designed the cover for Star of Justice. He also just produced Winter as an audio book, so if you prefer your reading in the "out loud" category, Winter audio is for you.

Nervous

I intend to donate a copy of Star of Justice to my high school alma mater Cair Paravel. My first plan is to send them a copy with a nice letter, but it occurred to me it might need a bit more fanfare than that. My brain went to press releases, student gatherings, something with a podium and flashbulbs.

Yeah, I don't get it, either. I'm not generally one for grand daydreams of fame, but, hey, it's where my brain went.

It was followed almost immediately by the "wow, I don't know how to make that happen and it sure seems like a lot of work for such a small thing" dismissal, so I switched back to Plan A. At least, my waking mind did.

Last night, I dreamed I did the big book reveal at my high school and it was a total flop. Met with criticism, derision, contempt and in one case downright snobbery, I was thoroughly snubbed and humiliated by friends and family. Loads of fun.

Not that I think such a thing would actually come to pass, but it's nice to know my streak of self-doubt continues alive and well.

The Winner!

H.A. Titus won the Star of Justice ebook from my guest post at Melissa Finnegan's blog. A big thank-you to Melissa for having me and a "huzrats!" to Heather.

For those still interested in an ecopy, Smashwords.com is the cheapest place to order and they offer it in any ereader format. I haven't figured out how to load it to Nook, but it shows up just fine on mom's Ipad.

It occurred to me today (why am I always late in thinking of these things) to collect interview questions. I get tired of the same old "how do you get your ideas?" so I'll gather other questions to ask and answer. Problem solved.

Kat has sent Draft Two of Seeking Unseen, so that will keep me busy reading for a few days. I'm three pages in and already looking better, Kat. Don't remember those "sparkling green eyes" being there the first time, but I sure like them.

Have a great day, everybody. Gotta go read.

Letting Go

You would think I learned this with Elementals, but I guess turtles need more reminders than your average elephant.

TT: I'm considering Cleft as a final title for Elementals. I got it from Obadiah 2 - 4: "The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rocks and make your home on the heights, you who say to yourself, 'Who can bring me down to the ground?' Though you soar like the eagle and make your nest among the stars, from there I will bring you down..." The verses refer to the destruction of Edom, but they remind me strongly of the Avese. Thoughts?

I tried something new with Price of Justice. Instead of putting things into a separate note file, I wrote them into the mss with the understanding I would take them out later if they didn't fit there. I hoped it would be a time saver.

Big mistake.

I have conclusively proved my writing style is lean with tendency to plumping, like a Ballpark Frank. Or the body reconstruction scene from The Fifth Element where they build Lelu out of a couple of cells. I write the skeleton first and I go back and add ligaments, then muscle and finally skin to hold everything together. If you're lucky, I'll throw some clothes on it, but not always. Cue Merritt's curtsy.

I tried to reverse the process by including everything I could think of in the first draft believing I would cut it later. Well, the cutting is what's getting in the way. What do I cut? Which part is too much? Is any of it necessary? Arrgh!

When I let go and slice down to the bare bones, I move forward. I also lose all the info I jammed in there in the first place, and I'm sure some of that will go back later. So I've wasted more time than I saved.

So be it. Lesson learned. Again.

I'll reopen my notes file and move those chunks of flesh over there while I figure out what kind of bones this baby has.

It's half-written but it's only just begun. Sigh.

The Hard Work

People think writing is hard work. They're half right. It is hard to sit down and write. However, it is impossible to sit down and write without thinking.

I'm finally thinking about Price of Justice. I thought I had thought about it, but not nearly enough.
Star of Justice occurs on another world. That world has native inhabitants and you get to meet a smattering of half-breed versions of them. You discover a slice of Ah'rahk's history, but mostly you follow after Caissa as she stumbles around trying not to die.

Price of Justice is a far closer look at Ah'rahk. You'll meet full druids, fauns, neriadim, draken and an aeriad or two. You'll cover more territory - from far eastern Barrens to southern York to the western Steppes to Draklan. You'll meet real wizards and sorcerers and learn the difference between the two. At least, I hope you will.

Problem: I have to create all those people and places and I haven't done it. Not really.

I figured this out when rereading my WIP and noticing that the same person is traveling both east and west at the same time. Apparently, I don't know where he's going, which would explain why he can't get there.

I'm solving this problem by keeping my map of Ah'rahk open in "Paint" while I write. Every time we move, I check the map to see where we're going. If I don't know, I stop and think until I do. I make changes to the map and we all proceed.

A painstaking process, yes, but it's becoming rather fun. That's good. If writing isn't fun, it isn't worth it.

Ironically, the hardest part is changing my mind. I keep forgetting I haven't actually published this book yet. I can make all the changes I want, as long as they don't conflict with Star of Justice in an improbable way. Not sure why I can't keep this in my head but I keep losing it.

Maybe I'm thinking too hard.

Hello!

I just noticed I've added a couple of "followers" to this blog. Howdy, folks! Here's hoping you'll find some entertainment value here.

There's still a chance to win a free ebook of Star of Justice at Melissa Finnegan's blog. Just leave a comment there and you're entered. You don't have to have a Kindle to make use of an ebook. Kindle has a free download program for your mac or PC that allows you read on your computer. We also have a straight .pdf file version that you can read with Adobe. We probably have other versions, too. Can't have too many ways to read an ebook.

Wow. I sound like I know what I'm talking about, don't I? It's really just "blah blah, Adobe" to me. I'm throwing words out and hoping they land in some kind of rational order.

Anyhoo... Welcome. God's blessings on you and yours.

Write to the Point with Robynn Tolbert

I'm guesting at Melissa Finnegan's Genesis 50:20 blog today. If you're interested in a free ebook of Star of Justice, stop by and leave a comment to enter her giveaway (and make me look less friendless).

Thanks!

PS: This is the potentially sarcastic interview I agonized over, but Mom's wisdom ruled out and I toned it down a bit. *evil grin*

Renewed

I finished Great Expectations this weekend and was reminded what a true masterpiece of story-telling looks like. A co-worker finished reading Star of Justice and tells me she wanted to re-read it immediately, so I've gotten my kudos for the week. I'm not only waiting for Kat Heckenbach to send her second draft of Book II for edits, but I'm supposed to be writing a non-fiction article of 3000 words by the end of June, so I'm in the wonderful-for-procrastination-purposes position of having other things to do than write on my book.

Which means I'm ready to write on Price of Justice.

I thought I would start writing last night. I took the laptop and the turtle-shaped flash drive into the bedroom (away from the Internet and the newest Farmville release Jade Falls) and settled in for what I hoped would be a few productive hours of writing.

It wasn't quite what I expected.

I had to remind myself of what I have already written. It's changed so much in my head, I can't remember what's on paper anymore. That led to a strong realization that I need to edit while I go, which I simply cannot do on the laptop with that little finger-mouse-pointer thing. I hate those. Then Skamper decided the space between the laptop and my belly was exactly his size so I had to deal with a cat hair arm rest that didn't appreciate the use. Within minutes of turning on the computer, I had five fuzzballs within five feet staring at me with a "what'cha doing, ma?" intensity that was quite unnerving. Miss Kitty didn't join because apparently some ghost had entered the house and she was the only one capable of chasing it around and around.

I suffered another setback when I couldn't find my map of Ah'rahk or even remember where I last saw it. That was an intense two minutes, but I found it in a totally logical place. I need to draw more detailed maps of the specific areas my characters travel this time around. The wide-view is no longer adequate.

Not willing to be completely distracted (though Jade Falls whispered), I turned off the laptop and fetched that monster binder you've seen on FB for some pen and ink time.

I did (I hope) resolve some important issues in the first four chapters, mostly by staring at the ceiling while the cats stared at me and considering all the possible story implications. I also uncovered a few issues I'll have to think about some more. Yes, this time I took notes.

I am now prepared to make useful edits on the first 73 pages of the currently written 406. Those are double-spaced pages, by the way. I haven't hit the 100K mark yet in actual words. Fresh writing will come soon enough once these modifications are made and the cats will just have to adapt to the change of location.

So hurry up, Kat, or I might accidentally make progress on my own WIP. Can't have that, can we?

Warning: Christian

Hello. My name is Robynn and I'm a Christian. I will write Christian books. Find out why over at

The Cheesecake Thickens.

or right here:

I'm a member of several online writers' groups, and recently, one of them posed the question, "should Christian books carry a warning label?" To be honest, I cannot for the life of me remember which group or really any of the particulars. I mostly scanned from the sidelines.

The trigger incident involved an author getting a nasty review because he failed to clearly identify his fiction novel as "Christian," even though three of the tags applied to the novel contained the word "Christian" (I'll save a rant on the -ehem- silliness of readers for later). The author countered by creating a tongue-in-cheek warning to all that his book might contain material known to incite riots in avowed atheists or something to that nature. Good on him.

The thread bounced around a bit, with some authors being pro-warning and some pro-"undercover Christianity" - as in avoiding any and all trigger words that might cause a Christ-hater to "go off" and stop reading, thus getting some Christianity into the reader by accident, as it were.

Wow. I sound a bit harsh there, don't I? Guess I have some issues of my own.

I faced this question for the first time when a person I later learned to be an atheist asked me what "Christian fiction" was. He caught me off guard, but I answered, and, I think pretty well for me, a book that expresses a Christian worldview.

I'll warn you upfront. I'm a Christian. It doesn't matter what genre I choose to write. My writings will stem from a Christian worldview. Do I mind? No. Will you mind? Maybe. Is that my problem? 

Absolutely not.

Jesus Himself said the world would hate Him and most people will reject Him. Why should I gritch and moan because they reject me because of Him? I'd rather proclaim Him before men and be cursed by them than be denied by Him before God.

I do have to point out the irony of an atheist complaining about Christian fantasy, though. Isn't that where all Christian writing should be? In the same genre with false, mythological beings like Ra and Gaia and Zeus? I would think atheists would be thrilled to have Christians writing fantasy. We're doing half their work for them.

I guess there's no pleasing some people.

* * *

Are you reading this on FB? Have you "liked" my author page, Ranunculus Turtle? Why not? 

P.A. Baines Talks About Alpha Redemption

Not here. I suppose I should ask him, but then I'd have to ask other people, and it would become this whole big thing. Sigh.

Anyway, read his interview here and read my review of his book here (if you're interested). I compared it to cauliflower soup, which, if you've ever had cauliflower soup, you know to be high praise indeed. Anything I compare to food is good.

Enjoy!

Why I Don't Read Reviews

I'm referring here to reviews of my own books. I'm also no longer saying "I won't read reviews," because I have read two of them despite all my good intentions.

I'd like to have three bullet-pointed reasons deftly arranged, but it boils down to this: reviews are for readers, not writers. The same way funerals are for survivors, not the deceased.

You have an opinion about my work, but I'm not entitled to know it, nor are you required to share it. If you like my book, great! Glad to hear it. If you don't like my book, great! Glad to hear it. I don't expect everyone to like my book. Oddly enough, I'm not that arrogant.

A review is given after the book is published. I can't make changes after that point. What you like remains the same; what you don't like remains the same. How can reading your praise or censure make one ounce of difference to me where this book is concerned? It can't. It can only make the difference to other readers who might like it or dislike it like you did.

I'm not saying don't review my book. Please, review away. Be honest. Tell what you liked and what you didn't. I'd ask you not to share spoilers, but, again, that's your choice. You don't need me to read your review to make it valid.

One might argue that a review will make my next book stronger. How, exactly? The next book won't be like this book. I've changed. The story has changed. The characters may have changed. Besides, I have crit-partners who regularly beat me upside the head for doing stupid, annoying things in my writing. I have a wide variety of test readers ready to berate me for being too predictable, too obscure or too wordy. I've encouraged them to be as honest as possible, and I listen when they speak.

So, I truly thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews of my book. I'm gratified when you enjoy it, and I'm understanding when you don't. I hope your words make a difference to future readers or to readers who should not read my book because they would hate it like you did.

Your words are for them, not for me.

I respect that.

Things I've Learned Since Publishing a Book

I'd heard about that point in the final editing process where you'd rather set your head on fire and put it out with a sledgehammer than read your mss one more time. I hit that point about four years ago, but I tried to squash my indifference and focus on the task at hand this April with Star of Justice.
Considering what I've found, I failed miserably in the squashing and allowed indifference to win out. So I'm making a checklist for the next book.

1) Run spell check on the entire document. Especially important for made-up names. Just be sure to spell them correctly the first time. This brings me to the addendum to 1): pay attention to spell check while running it.

2) Run grammar check on the entire document. This one will have you banging your head over every fragment of dialogue, but it will catch some (few) things. Not as many as you might hope. I also never trust it's suggestions, but it's a good way to make sure you're saying what you mean to say.

3) Run "find" for everything you can think of, in an orderly fashion, with a checklist. In fact, 1) should probably be "keep a checklist of things to check." Extra spaces, extra punctuation, words that should be italicized or capitalized. Words that shouldn't be italicized or capitalized. If you think of it, write it down and "find" it. Every time.

4) Keep a list of things to check and check them off when you've checked them. I found a couple of things I meant to check or change, yet apparently failed to check or change. Do you know how irritating it is to think of doing something and fail to actually do it? Yeah, you probably do.

5) Read the entire document (yes, I mean that) in a format other than the one you normally use. Really read it, too, not just skimming. I spotted the missing period while reading Star of Justice on my Kindle. Stupid me failed to note the spot, and despite my best efforts, grammar check and "find," that period insists on remaining missing. I figure it's God's way of humbling me.

6) I'd say ask someone else to help, but, frankly, I'm the best judge of this kind of little, piddling stuff. I'd rather save my friends for bigger issues like content and clarity than waste them on comma searches. I love you guys that much. You're welcome.

That's what I've got so far. Feel free to add any suggestions I may have missed. I am once again forcibly reminded how fallible I am. I'm also inclined to run grammar check on this post.

Sleep Disturbance

About two years ago, my eyes started going numb when I get too stressed. I don't know how else to describe it except it's just like when the eye doctor puts those anesthetic drops in my eyes for the glaucoma test. Except it doesn't go away in a couple hours. It goes away when I get unstressed and that usually involves getting more sleep.

They started doing it last week, so I scheduled some vacation time. I've been dealing with it all weekend yet I haven't been able to take any naps or go to bed earlier than normal because of a busy schedule this weekend.

Last night I went to bed about 9:30 in the hopes of staving off some eyelid issues today.

My neighbor, who has been away for the last 10 days on vacation and returned Friday night, started cleaning out his car at 10 PM. He turned his second car's brights on, opened his storage shed and unpacked.

Let me explain that his driveway is four feet from my house. His storage shed is directly outside my bedroom window. I got to listen to every scrape, every door slam, every hinge squeak and every cell phone call he made until after 3 AM. I got to squeeze my eyes against the halo of light coming in around my bedroom curtains. And I got to enjoy his friends coming over around midnight to chat with him for an hour or so.

Had I known he intended to take all night to do this, I might have turned my fan on at 10:15 and been able to sleep. As it was, I would drift off and wake up again forty-five minutes to an hour later to another new, fun noise.

Why didn't I go out and talk to him, you ask? What good would it do? He wasn't breaking any laws.
He can have a light on at night. He wasn't making an unusual amount of noise. For once, he didn't have his car stereo on. He just chose the most ridiculous time possible to clean out his car. Am I supposed to give him grief for poor judgment?

So, I get to face a Monday of stressed-out phone calls from customers who tried to deal with our broken website over the weekend, and a mountain of paperwork left over from dealing with last week's customers dealing with the same broken website, on a two hour nap instead of a nine hour rest while my eyes refuse to focus and occasionally close without my permission. My neighbor, who is a teacher, gets to go to bed and sleep the day away.

Pray for me today. My customers will need it.

On a brighter note, a file I've been trying to upload to my publisher for the last two weeks chose last night to finally launch. Thank You, Lord.

Choices

After several years of quiet, my phone lines are acting up again. Spotty Internet connections, a mysterious "line in use" message that blocks incoming and outgoing calls and cannot be accounted for, considering I've unplugged everything that uses a "line" that I know about, and a monthly bill that increases like kudzu in South Carolina.

I'm "this close" to switching to cable. Except I hate cable. I hate paying for channels I don't watch. I hate ugly lines connected to my house. I hate that I apparently still have to have some kind of interface box or something? We had those when cable started in the 80's. Have we really not found a better way in 30 years? Come on!

I don't want to switch to anything. I hate changing services. I hate start-up fees and special deals that only last 3 months and then you get the REAL bill and dealing with sales people who don't speak English 'cause even if the words are English, I don't speak "tech." I don't know what "wi-fi" is or "DSL" or "single channel service." Argh!

Cable is no better. It's just a new set of lines and boxes that will go bad and have to be replaced for more money. I know this, but I don't want to switch to some other phone company to find out they still use ATT lines, so I still have all these line problems. I HATE TECHNOLOGY!

I appreciate the irony that I'm using technology to say that.

Which begs the question, why are my phones down when my Internet is working? Aren't they THE SAME LINES?! I don't understand, and when I don't understand, I get cranky.

Stay out of my way today. I am not happy.

On a slightly brighter note, Big Brother installed my new storm door last night. It's beautiful, it's functional, and it's much, much warmer. Thank you, Big Brother.