02 March 2011

Back in the Saddle by Lynn Crain


Now many of you who don’t know me will be wondering what I’m talking about. Those of you who do wonder when I was ever out of the saddle.

Well…for both of you groups, I was definitely out of the saddle. What do I mean? you may ask. For me it is obvious. Quite a few years ago, I became disillusioned with life. And writing.

Not that I didn’t want to do either…no, I wanted to write and live life to the fullest. I was disillusioned with the fact that all I did was work. All I did was have a business. I never seemed to have time for any of the things that I loved. Or those that I loved.

Then 9/11 happened. I along with millions watched in horror as icons for our freedom and financial well-being were toppled in front of my eyes. To top it all off, it was my niece’s birthday. I can remember thinking, Oh hell…what a day. I can remember thinking, My god…what’s this world coming to? I can remember thinking, This changes everything.

And suddenly, I was thinking much clearer. I was thinking with the part of myself that had been shut off by business deals and bottom lines. Suddenly, I thought about what mattered most in my life: my family and my writing. I had neglected both for many months.

My husband and I no longer took those long walks. My youngest son and I only argued about homework leaving very little time for anything else. My oldest was a stranger I barely knew. One of my good friends, who I considered a sister, and I fought constantly about the business. God only knew when I had last called my brother and his family. And my latest characters at the time, Trista and Alfred, were languishing in the limbo state of barely finished with many chapters waiting for revision.

Suddenly, I found myself on the road to recovery. Recovery of my craft.

The business, which printed financial documents for a mainstay, suddenly couldn’t earn its keep and the following April it was decided to close it at the end of May. I started to reconnect with those I loved. I now try to take a walk with my husband at least once a week. I care for my youngest everyday…and he drives me crazy but I love it. I love it when my oldest comes in to tell me about his latest accomplishment. Currently, they are his two new sons! My friend and I planned critique sessions.

Trista and Alfred are also on the road to recovery. Along with them, I write at least one article, possibly one poem, come up with some ideas and plan for my next full day, or week if it’s Sunday, of writing. I’m going to write for a living…even though I may need an outside job to keep the hubby happy and pay for my share of the bills. (As of this update, this has come to pass and I can say I’m happier than ever...woohoo!)

This time I will make it…I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Now having said all that, here are some tips to keep the writing muse alive. Because, even with all I’ve been through, the muse never left me.


1. Writing doesn’t take as much time as you think.

All you need is to give it a little portion of each day. Are there times when you are waiting for something? Like a doctor’s appointment? Your kids? Is there a television show you can live without? If you answer yes to any of these questions, writing can be part of your daily routine. Write things down in a journal, then transcribe them when you used to watch that TV show.

2. Look at the markets weekly.

The markets change daily. This is because of the Internet. Today, writers have more opportunities than ever before. Exploring those markets will usually kick start an idea which will then lead to you finding more time to write. I personally get up each morning and head for my computer. Once I’ve waded through the junk mail, I start looking for new and interesting markets for my work.

3. Make a weekly plan.

I say weekly plan, because life can be so uncertain any more. I tend to plan my life at least 6 months out but for writing I do it weekly and sometimes even daily when I have a deadline. I start on Sunday evening looking at all the guidelines I printed during the week. I then check to see if I’ve written anything that will fit the guidelines. If I don’t have anything, I ask myself if I want to write it. If I do, I put it in the weekly calendar. I plan to have the article done that same day. I then put it down for revision the next day and submission the day after that.

While this may seem ambitious, it’s the only way that I can keep focused and on track. Otherwise, I tend to never get anything done.

4. Read.

I try to read something new everyday. With the Internet, you can read articles and reviews or just about anything. I reserve my evenings for my pleasure reading or study.

5. Research.

I have certain things that interest me…such as medieval medicine. I have always been fascinated with how today’s medical system works in relation to how it really started. Because of that I am constantly reading on this subject. It gives me get ideas for some stories as well a good read about something I thoroughly enjoy.

6. Networking.

Like attracts like. I cannot stress this enough. We are what we eat and whom we hang out with. Laugh you may but it is true. By this I mean, if you truly want to be a writer you will need to network with other writers. This can be done through meetings or conferences, both formal and informal. If you want to write…hang out with writers. Strive to do…not just be a wannabe.

7. Write.Write.Write.

Remember to write, write, write. It’s what makes you a writer.


Hopefully, I’ve given you some bits of wisdom that you can use in your writing life. Life is what life is…we can’t always change it, but we can shape what comes our way. We can make things happen…positive things. And like the old saying goes, it has to start with you. You have to make the changes, you have to want to write, and you have to do it.

And for this woman…I’m back in the saddle again. Permanently.

Anybody got any bag balm?

-Lynn

Website: www.lynncrain.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/oddlynn3
Blog: http://lynncrain.blogspot.com
Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/XtraOrdinaryRomance
Facebook: www.facebook.com/oddlynn3

28 February 2011

Movie Monday- (500) Days of Summer


This movie, (500) Days of Summer stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel. I had initially been made aware of this little Indie film because Joseph Gordon-Levitt had been nominated by the Golden Globes for Best Actor in a musical or comedy. He had been a child actor on “3rd Rock From the Sun”, one of my favorite comedies of the ninety’s. Zooey Deschanel is the sister of Emily Deschanel who stars in the tv show “Bones”, and has appeared in many films such as The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and The Happening.

The heart of this story lies in the theory that even though you might find Mr. or Miss Right, it may not be a mutual discovery. Tom (Gordon-Levitt) works as a greeting card writer, who falls instantly in love with his boss’s new assistant Summer (Deschanel). And from the very beginning we are told that although this is a romance story, it I is not a love story. But I disagree, but it does teach us about love, only a different version of it.

Throughout the film, the timeline of where Tom and Summer are in their relationship flashes up to propel us along their journey. Tom is one of those romantic, wear-your-heart-on the-sleeve kind of guys and Gordon-Levitt has played him so well and convincingly that-in my mind-he is now propelled into Hottie status. Summer is a little harder to figure out. She is a woman looking for her own true love even though she tries to deny it by saying she doesn’t want to put labels on what she and Tom share.

But this story is really about Tom. In the 500 days that they have together, he runs the gamut of every facet that Love can be. Joy, hope, passion, despair, reconciliation, anger, and finally, acceptance.

Every shot and frame of this film is artistic. The director, Marc Webb, has done a fantastic job bringing each segment of this film to emotional life. It is one reason I like Indie films, because I always get done watching them with the moral or tale replaying through my head.

I won’t give anything away, but the ending, though not the happy ending one might expect, is satisfying. Tom does find his closure. And in turn leaves us realizing that the heart truly is big enough to hold all types of loves and loss.

26 February 2011

Bethcapeds- A Bug in the Ear is Worth....


Ever wonder what it feels like to have a bug inside your ear, burrowing its way toward your eardrum? No? Me neither. Until this morning, that is. I was awoken around 430ish by a sharp pain inside my ear and what sounded like “swishing”. I felt something odd fluttering around inside so I woke Brian up and had him look in my ear.


Nada, he said. He saw nothing, and being still somewhat asleep, he quickly dismissed me and went back to LaLa Land. I sat on the couch with several Q-tips trying to dig whatever it was that was nesting in my ear out. To no avail, I must admit, though I was secretly hoping that I was completely bonkers in thinking that a bug had crawled inside my ear while I lay peacefully sleeping.


Because…ew. Yuck. Gross.


After flipping through absolutely nothing on the television, the squelching in my ear stopped as did the pain, so I decided I needed to get some more sleep. Because I just had to have imagined it, right???? I grabbed my pillow and warm blanket from the bedroom and settled down on the couch. Immediately, pain shot through my ear as well as the crawly sensation of something alive deep in my ear. (Again with the ew, yuck and gross)


And when I say pain, imagine someone with a large needle or pin playing VooDoo Doll with your eardrum. That’s when I woke Brian (again) and told him I was going to the ER. So after driving with my head titled to the side (like, did I think the bug would fall out via gravity?) I arrived at UCLA Medical Center in Santa Monica. The one good thing about visiting the ER at six am on a Saturday morning is that you can find parking in front and there’s no wait! Of course, after I’m admitted and sitting in a triage room with a gown on does the damn bug decide to go toward the light (in this case, out of the ear canal) where I felt it wiggling it’s way up. I scooped him out with my nail just as the Doctor walked in. Great. He looked in my ear and said that there’s still a wing left behind.


Really? A wing? I had an insect wing in my ear! Ew. Yuck. Gross. A hundred bucks later I walk out of the ER, sans pain and creepy crawly things, thank goodness, but I decided to keep it. I should have the damn thing dipped in gold. The Good Doc said I did the right thing and that I was lucky…he’d seen stuff like full grown roaches in people’s ears. W…T…F? How do you not feel a huge roach going into your ear????


Now, I need a nap but paranoia is now my copilot. Damn bugs.

23 February 2011

Jillian Chantal's new book and hero!



First, I want to thank Beth for having me here today. I read her blog a lot and am privileged to be part of it today. Let's have some fun and a give away.

My second book published with Book Strand Publishers is called Surfer Bride and was released on February 22, 2011. The name comes from one of the lines in the book. My heroine's a professional surfer. She's the world champion long board surfer caught up in a scandal. She picks up a newspaper one day and reads the headline- it refers to her as Surfer Bride and she immediately says, "What an awful title." So, I couldn't resist using it for the title of the book.

Speaking of the book and inspiration for the title reminds me of my inspiration for the hero, Finn. I'm a member of the Gulf Coast Chapter of the Romance Writer's of America. At the first meeting I ever attended, the fabulous Cynthia Eden bebopped over to my table and introduced herself to me. She and I hit it off immediately and became friends. She's a doll and such a fun person. One day last summer, we were talking about Mark Strong. He's an actor that usually plays villains or anti-heroes. We were talking about how hot and sexy we thought he was and bemoaning the fact that he was always the bad guy (he's so good at it). I said, "Someone needs to write a story where he's the hero." Cynthia looked at me and said, "You do it." So, I did. He's definitely the inspiration for the hero in this book. One error that almost got through the editing process was that I initially described him as brown eyed as Mark is in real life. Later in the book, I decided that green would be better due to something the heroine says. Neither I nor my editor caught it the first set of edits. The night after I sent in the first edits, at 3 am, I woke up in a panic- checked the manuscript, and sure enough, big boo-boo. I fixed it and went back to bed. I love the way the subconscious works but that's another blog post for another day.

Check out Mark Strong's filmography at http://www.imdb.com and check out his pictures. He's one fine man! Now, mind you, the hero of my book has hair, but Mark is sexy with or without the hair.

The book can be ordered here: http://www.bookstrand.com/jillian-chantal
To watch the book trailer http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVPI7QrsF0A

I'd like to give away a Live, Love, Surf magnet to one commenter- For a chance to win, leave me a comment on which bad boy actor you'd like to see become a hero. I'll have random.org pick a winner tomorrow at noon.
You can find me here: http://www.jillianchantal.wordpress.com and email me here: JillianChantal@gmail.com or tweet me http://twitter.com/JillianChantal

21 February 2011

Matched- A Book Review


The reviews of this book has it being a ripoff from the novel “The Giver” by Lois Lowry, and even though there is a lot of similarities, the tone and feel of “Matched” is completely unique.

“Matched” is the story of Cassia, a girl who has grown up in a society that is ruled by the Officials, where everything is based on calculations. Officials calculate who would be each other’s perfect husband, what job is best suited to whom, even when is the best age to die. Because of their perfect analysis of humans, disease is completely wiped away, crime no longer exists, and everyone is well provided for.

Except, of course, if you break the rules. They you could be cited, given an Infraction, and if you get too many you might be labeled an Aberration and thus unable to be matched and given a low standing labor job.

In this world, the Officials have done away with writing, art, poetry, music, everything that invokes free thinking and feeling. In this society, emotions are regulated as well as love.

Cassia is matched to her best friend Xander, but as she looks at his datacard, another face pops up as well, another boy named Ky. Confused, because the Officials are not to supposed to make any mistakes, Cassia begins to look at Ky differently, to learn about him, and discovers he holds many secrets. He can write, he has stories to tell, and is labeled an Aberration, unable to become a full citizen because his father was a fighter in the Outer Provinces.

But these two people defy the odds and fall in love. They risk their freedom and lives to be together. And when Ky is taken away because of that love, then Cassia vows to find him. She rebels against what she has known her whole life in order to love Ky.

This novel lingers with you for several reasons. First, the writing is engaging, thought provoking. There isn’t a lot of action in this story, mostly it weaves through Cassia’s journey from being totally in support of The Officials and Society to realizing that love is worth any risk, any price. Second, while this book is like other dystopian works, Ally Condie has really brought her characters to life. The love between Ky and Cassia is real; it’s almost heartbreaking at times. But her relationships with others around her is equally engaging.

“Matched” is the first book in a trilogy so, while the ending is satisfying for now, Cassia’s story is not done and I look forward to reading her journey.

17 February 2011

In Dreams by Z.A. Maxfield


The other day, I dreamed I was responsible for teaching a cooking class. I don't remember why I was doing it. The students were mostly seniors, and it was a dream that had somehow spun off another dream. As usual, at the time it made perfect sense. :D

I think I had a huge pot of berries, all different kinds, fresh spring strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and maybe some other kinds like Marionberries. I don't know why I was cooking them, except to concentrate them a little and make them pop. Maybe I wanted make them a syrupy to serve over ice cream.

I saw that they were still mostly whole, just shiny and warm and sweeter, as if the heat had concentrated their juices, but watery. I handed them off to my assistant -- someone in the group -- and said, “Go drain these off,” as if it were just a matter of pouring off water or something.

While he or she did that, I chatted with the group. We were talking about how a fresh berry topping is wonderful on pancakes and I invited the class with me to go to tan ice cream place to try it like that. But then a lady I didn't know brought my dish back to me and when I opened the lid, it wasn't whole berries, they'd been pureed, and there was something in them that made them the wrong color -- as if they'd added a dairy product.

I wondered how it would taste, so I tried it. Well. It wasn't the same as what I'd imagined at all, but I thought it tasted all right. Then someone else produced a giant bowl of whole-wheat pasta and said it would be best to serve my berry sauce on that. @.@

I woke up with the idea that the analogy of creating something, then having to watch and wait while others reduce it, add to it, and serve it up in ways I never dreamed is a lot like my work as a writer. Each person who reads my work, from agents, to acquiring editors, to primary editors, to line editors, and proofers will see an entirely different story. And they might need me to change it. (Seriously, I have discovered this is not necessarily a bad thing.)

Readers live in the same world I do, but we all have vast and varied experiences. When they sit down to read a book, they bring everything they know to the party. As each person reads my book they imbue it with layers and layers of different meanings, motivations, and messages whether I put them there or not. It’s a fascinating process, and not one for the faint of heart.

As a writer, the thing I hold on to, the thing I need to have on my desktop for when the going gets rough, is this quote from Franz Kafka:

Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.

Even when I make changes, and I make a LOT of changes, it’s always with this thought in mind, because in the end, it’s hard to regret anything if you know you did what you knew in your heart was right.

-ZA Maxfield’s links
Website: http://zamaxfield.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/ZAMaxfield
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/ZAMaxfield/165809416786338
Livejournal: http://abstractrx.livejournal.com/

14 February 2011

Just Say It! by Belinda McBride


As I’m sitting down to write for Beth’s blog, my 22 year old niece is in the room next to me, screaming her lungs out.

Sound’s pretty dire, eh? Yes, she’s 22 and screaming, but she’s got Angelman’s Syndrome, a genetic defect that includes autism, (which is rare in girls) seizure disorder and mental retardation. Why is she screaming? Honestly, I don’t know, but usually it means she’s hurting or that there’s a big cluster of sh*t on the horizon. Most likely a big seizure or the flu.

The major issue here is that something is wrong and she lacks the ability to tell us what it is.

Can you imagine lacking the part of the brain that regulates communication? I write about love and relationships, and in fantasy, as well as in life, our success is based on our ability to convey our needs, our emotions and our desires. Oddly, the issue that I have the most trouble with in my personal relationships is…communication. Under stress or confrontation, I tend to either lash out or walk away. When someone compliments me, I’m never certain how to take it. I have no idea how to comfort someone, beyond being there. And it’s very difficult for me to express my love for another.

Some of our ability to communicate is inborn. Some of that ability must be learned. I was raised in a family that walked in fear of the patriarch. Dad wasn’t big on sharing feelings…LOL! Mostly he had two emotions…surly and angry. Surly wasn’t so bad, generally he was watching TV then and didn’t want to be bothered. Angry…well, he’d come looking for something (or someone) to take it out on. He wasn’t physically abusive, but ours was not a warm and fuzzy household when he was around. (He was a long-haul trucker, so mostly, we were spared.)

My own marriage didn’t last long, but I determined to raise my children with more open communication and sharing of feelings than I was raised with. Was I perfect? Absolutely not. But I mastered the ability to say, “I love you” to my kids. It never became a habit, and I found that every time I say or write it, I feel it and I mean it. As I watch the girls stumble through life and love, I see that they aren’t afraid to express their emotions, so it appears that my mission was accomplished with some degree of success.

Today is the big V day…the day to show love to your sweetie, as well as your friends and family. Make it deliberate, make it intentional. Most of all, say the words because you mean them. Say it even if you aren’t feeling it at the moment, because that’s when we need to say it the most. That’s when our loved ones need to hear it the most as well.

And it doesn’t hurt to throw in a flower or two as well. :-) Happy Valentines Day!

-Belinda McBride lives in far northern California. She shares her some with her family and a pack of unruly Siberian Huskies. She writes erotic speculative fiction for Loose Id, Changeling Press, Dreamspinner Press and Passion in Print.

Please visit her website at: http://www.belindamcbride.com
Or her blog at http://www.belindam.blogspot.com

"Dos Lunas"

Middle brother Diego Lobos has everything he needs. Friends, family, a
business, even a great truck, yet there's always a hole inside him that
won't be filled. When cool, controlled Victoria Talbot brings in a
badly stained dress, he knows she's the one to fill that space. Can he
trust her with his secrets if she hides her own?
This is part of the print anthology LUCKY IN RED.
Excerpt:

Prologue

Victoria Talbot chewed her pencil as she viewed the footage playing out on her
laptop. Figures moved in and out of camera range, sometimes silhouetted under the light of the full moon. They were eerily familiar, yet she couldn't quite identify them.


There was some distance between the camera and its subjects, but it recorded laughter and snatches of conversation, mostly in Spanish. There were three men, all similar enough in appearance to be brothers. They were tall and well built. All three had dark hair, but she couldn't make out their features. She frowned, tilting her head as one man knelt, picking up a stone and tossing it into the woods. A handsome profile was momentarily etched against the moonlit sky. Her heart leapt. She
knew him! Well, maybe they'd never met, but he was so familiar. She leaned forward, willing him to turn his head, to look toward the camera, but he remained hauntingly aloof.


Without any preliminaries, the man vanished. He simply wasn't there. A smudgy cloud of smoke whirled and coalesced until a wolf emerged where the man had been. The pencil snapped in half between her teeth.


She clutched the broken pencil in her sweaty palm and kept watching as the scene repeated itself, until there were no more men in the image, only smoke, and then great, dark wolves.

One raised his head to the moon and howled, prompting the other two to join in an
impromptu melody. They shook their luxuriant coats, romped for a moment, and then vanished from view, leaving only a lingering image of the heavy white moon and an empty clearing. And then the screen went blank.

"Goddamn son of a fucking bitch."


Victoria pushed back her chair, dropping her head between her knees, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. Once she'd recovered her equilibrium, she sat up and started the clip again. And then she watched it again and again--and again.

***Available NOW
***Buy at:http://passioninprint.com/ShowBook.php?CR=SS_DOSLUNAS