Ginger Simpson's Blog, page 42
January 25, 2016
MOZART AND THE WRITERS
Written a very long time ago, but something to say on the occasion of another notable January Birthday, that of Wolfgang A. Mozart, a fellow I liked so well he appears in three of my books.
Mozart sends telepathic messages! I saw this headline in the '90's, in one of those papers where Bill Clinton could be seen shaking hands with a friendly alien.
As a Mozart fan, however, I understood it to be true. After Amadeus, there were legions of us, out of the classical closet. We saw the play, then the movie. We began to collect Mozart music. CD and videotape were still new, and so we had to buy those and the new, and, in those early days, expensive, equipment. My poor vinyl collection took a back seat to digital perfection. I searched in for small businesses that would carry opera tapes. I volunteered constantly at my public radio station because they were kind enough to feed my Mozart frenzy on a daily basis.
I was not alone, however, in this mad Mozart revival. Every opera singer with a recording contract put out a Mozart album. Neighbors in posh NYC apartments sued neighbors after hours and hours and days and weeks and months of The Requiem played continuously and at full volume. Like so many phenoms, Mozart had surged over the top, infecting the planetary consciousness.
Love me! Love me! Listen to me! Do what those 18thCentury fools did not!
The single party I gave every year was to honor his birthday. My writer and poet friends, all of us struggling with manuscripts, attempting to find agents and publishers, to hold onto day jobs, were loyal attendees. We could share our woes with that mostly impractical, humiliating, and perilous passion for writing. I will always be grateful to those brave souls who drove through snowstorms from other states because they wanted to be in my kitchen, share their woes and then find a way to laugh about them. It was a fun fellowship in the gray cold January world. There was champagne and 18th Century food of all kinds, steak and kidney pies, syllabub, etc., prepared, over the course of days and after trips to the butcher and the import shop, by the hands of Juliet the Certifiable. The Cake came from a now OOB bakery called Dingledein's, who certainly knew how to make a Mozart's Birthday Party Cake.
A warm winter pick-me-up among friends! So, Happy Birthday, creator of musical joy, Wolfgang A!
~~Juliet Waldron
See All my historical novels at:
http://www.julietwaldron.com
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS
Mozart sends telepathic messages! I saw this headline in the '90's, in one of those papers where Bill Clinton could be seen shaking hands with a friendly alien.
As a Mozart fan, however, I understood it to be true. After Amadeus, there were legions of us, out of the classical closet. We saw the play, then the movie. We began to collect Mozart music. CD and videotape were still new, and so we had to buy those and the new, and, in those early days, expensive, equipment. My poor vinyl collection took a back seat to digital perfection. I searched in for small businesses that would carry opera tapes. I volunteered constantly at my public radio station because they were kind enough to feed my Mozart frenzy on a daily basis.
I was not alone, however, in this mad Mozart revival. Every opera singer with a recording contract put out a Mozart album. Neighbors in posh NYC apartments sued neighbors after hours and hours and days and weeks and months of The Requiem played continuously and at full volume. Like so many phenoms, Mozart had surged over the top, infecting the planetary consciousness.
Love me! Love me! Listen to me! Do what those 18thCentury fools did not!
The single party I gave every year was to honor his birthday. My writer and poet friends, all of us struggling with manuscripts, attempting to find agents and publishers, to hold onto day jobs, were loyal attendees. We could share our woes with that mostly impractical, humiliating, and perilous passion for writing. I will always be grateful to those brave souls who drove through snowstorms from other states because they wanted to be in my kitchen, share their woes and then find a way to laugh about them. It was a fun fellowship in the gray cold January world. There was champagne and 18th Century food of all kinds, steak and kidney pies, syllabub, etc., prepared, over the course of days and after trips to the butcher and the import shop, by the hands of Juliet the Certifiable. The Cake came from a now OOB bakery called Dingledein's, who certainly knew how to make a Mozart's Birthday Party Cake.
A warm winter pick-me-up among friends! So, Happy Birthday, creator of musical joy, Wolfgang A!
~~Juliet Waldron
See All my historical novels at:
http://www.julietwaldron.com
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS
January 23, 2016
Sunday Snippets by Ginger Simpson - #sundaysnips
Today, I'm sharing a little from my relationship book, Betrayed. This story is based on a real-life happenstance, featuring my sister. The nightmare is over, but the bad taste lingers. We just discovered a month or so ago that the "antagonist" is now deceased, but there are thousands like him out there, waiting to prey on the innocent. My book delivers a message you won't want to miss.
The constant buzz of the alarm invaded Cassie’s sleep. She reached to the nightstand and slapped the button atop the clock to silence the annoying noise. Although early, the light from the rising sun filtering into the room forced her to squint until her eyes adjusted to the brightness. If changing the position of her home became humanly possibly, she’d turn the whole dwelling around. The lacy white curtains that matched her down comforter made her bedroom stylishly feminine, but did little to darken the room. With reluctance, she dropped her legs over the edge of the bed and curled her toes into the plush ecru carpet. It would be so nice to sleep in just one morning, but work beckoned. She grimaced at the thought of another day at the office. What would it be like to be married to a rich man and not have to work?She covered her mouth to mask a gaping yawn, stood and stretched. Her fingers splayed through a gnarled mass, and she groaned. Going to bed with damp hair had been a bad idea. Immediately, her thoughts returned to Evan—the reason she stayed up late. There was no use checking for a response this early, besides there was no time and she didn’t dare be late. Her new boss was a real jerk not at all like the wonderful man for whom she had worked for years. What were the odds that when her ideal supervisor retired, she would end up being supervised by a Japanese man? Somehow people of that particular ethnicity kept turning Cassie’s life upside down.She had never been racially biased, but perceptions from her new boss’ actions indicated anyone of the female gender threatened him. He treated her differently than the male executives, not letting her make decisions as she had in the past, and never soliciting her opinion. In some ways, working for him felt like being married to Greg all over again.Her new supervisor’s treatment of her set the tone for the other men in the office and made going to work a chore. If there was any possibility of finding a job that paid the same great wages, she’d quit in a flash, but unfortunately, due to unemployment statistics, her chances hovered somewhere between slim and none.Cassie shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She shed her nightgown and stood waiting for the water to warm. A mental image of Evan drifted through her mind; he probably looked nothing like it. She shuddered and peered into the mirror. “Internet dating, are you insane?”After testing the water, she slipped inside the stall and ducked her head beneath the stream of refreshing liquid to clear her thoughts and hopefully untangle the Frankenstein’s bride look that sleep had created. Starting over with blown-dry hair would make her morning’s toilette a lot easier.***
Cassie shifted positions, crossing and uncrossing her legs under the boardroom table. Her chair made an embarrassing sound as air escaped the bottom leather cushion; a few eyes turned in her direction. Despite her innocence, a flush crept up her neck. She hoped they didn’t think the rude noise came from her personally.The business meeting seemed never ending. Mr. Takeda, her boss, had turned what used to be information-sharing workshops into dictatorial seminars. He stood at the head of the table and droned on and on. No longer comfortable with offering opinions, Cassie fidgeted with boredom, wishing the day would end.How could one man make her feel so insecure? The abundance of confidence she once had at work had slipped away. No longer boosted by career achievement, her personal life was now an issue. She glanced around the male-dominated room. Did other suffer Takeda’s wrath or was she the only one because she held the sole female position in management? Between a bum marriage to someone who treated her as though she didn’t exist and a supervisor who operated in the same style, no wonder her self-esteem waned. Even those in the secretarial pool offered no compassion or empathy. They disliked her for being successful, too.Finally, Mr. Takeda barked his last command and dismissed the staff. Cassie released a long breath. The meeting and the workday ended at the same time. She walked back to her desk, switched off her computer and grabbed her purse.All the way home on the train, she pondered having to keep working under the present conditions. Her vacant stare glimpsed and stayed on the headlines of the newspaper held by a passenger across the aisle: Man Found Slain.Cassie arched her brow at the thought, but quickly shook her head.Nope, killing him wasn’t the answer. He wasn’t worth going to prison, but an impish chuckle escaped her lips when she pictured herself standing over Takeda’s body with a bloody knife.The train’s jolting halt train yanked her back to reality. She gathered her belongings and, feeling slightly claustrophobic, blended in with the throng of people exiting the car. The man behind her slammed into her, pushing her into the woman in front. Cassie devised a new idea for offing Mr. T: let the crowd stampede and trample him. With no shame involved, she took a deep breath and adjusted her carry-on strap so it didn’t bite so hard into her shoulder. Caught in the throng of bodies, she could only move as fast as the crowd.
Betrayed is available with all my other books on my Amazon author's page. Hope you'll check them out.
Now hop on over and check out my friend's offerings:
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)
January 22, 2016
When Fate Decides - New Release by Tricia McGill
Just released at Books We Love- When Fate Decides—Challenge the Heart Book 1. Contemporary romance by Tricia McGillThis one is dedicated to all the women out there who dream ofhaving a man like Jack in their lives—and to those who are blessed by having one.For too long Tessa has seen herself as plain and dowdy, just an ordinary suburban housewife. With her confidence eroded after being married to a bully who humiliated her at every opportunity, why wouldn’t she presume she was unattractive, and someone no man would find the least bit worth bothering with? But now Tessa is a widow, and relishing her new state of independence. Her world is turned upside down by Jack Delaney, a man she spent hours fantasizing over when he worked for her husband. A man who gave her a deliciously secret outlet from her miserable marriage. When Jack enters her life again, professing he finds her attractive, why would she believe him? Especially as he is now wealthy, successful, still extremely handsome, and to add to that, years younger than her.
Excerpt:This thought sent Tessa hurtling back to days in midsummer. Thirty-five that year, and already highly disillusioned with her marriage, the entry of a good-looking young man into her boring existence added some much-needed spice to the dreary days. Jack gave her something to dream about. Heaven knows she’d needed dreams to replace the awful emptiness an unhappy marriage enveloped her in.She was wearing an ordinary pale pink sundress of washed-out cotton on the day he turned up, looking like an Adonis, rugged and overwhelming. Her hair probably looked a sight too—pulled back in a ponytail, if she remembered correctly. He was so handsome, fit, and full of youthful vitality, that she felt flustered, self-conscious and downright awkward in his presence.Forgotten him?It was likely he was forever imprinted on her brain. His brown eyes haunted many of her night time dreams, and daytime fantasies. Jack Delaney, of the black curly hair, muscular body, and easy charm, with the strength and power to make her weak with wanting.If he was good-looking ten years ago, he was superb now. His hair had been tamed—the curls not quite so unruly, although he still wore it fairly long. It reached his shoulders, whereas it used to be halfway down his back. He seemed larger, broader. Not many men towered over Tessa, but he did. Her height was the bane of her life. Des was always scathing about it, probably because he couldn’t look down his nose at her. Des liked people to feel beneath him. Had loved to talk down to people.Eyes as dark as chocolate assessed her, and Tessa’s skin quivered beneath their warm scrutiny. He’d always possessed the power to make every nerve ending come alive, and hadn’t lost that power. It was unnerving to know he could still have this effect on her. Tessa wasn’t sure how to deal with this handsome fantasy from her past.He held out a hand and she stared down at it, in the brief moment aware of his square-tipped fingers and clean nails. There was a dusting of black hairs on the back of his hand, and his white shirt cuff with its gold links contrasted vividly with skin darkened by long hours spent outside.Tessa put her hand in his, every pulse going into overdrive as he gripped her fingers. It took an effort to drag her hand from his warm clasp. She was achingly aware that her skin was glowing, which had nothing to do with the heat in her house. A strange feeling she couldn’t put a name to was taking her over. No other man ever aroused such a feeling. Not since this one, ten years ago.When Fate Decides is available at Amazon: http://amzn.com/B01AR9FPSAAll Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-whenfatedecides-1969756-177.html Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BWLmcgillTricia’s Web Page: www.triciamcgill.com
January 21, 2016
Stolling Down Memory Lane #memories
About the best thing about not having a life is tripping down Memory Lane.I do a lot of that lately, and today recalled one of the worst jobs I ever held. I had to share my memory with you.
borrowed from Google.images.com
After moving to Northern California and relocating to Dixon, there was a time during my first marriage that I actually stayed home and was wife and mother. A couple of friends and I became bored and decided that a "seasonal" job that led to unemployment befits the remainder of the year wouldn't be such a bad gig. So...we trouped down to the tomato processing plant and applied. Surprise, we all got hired.
The first thing employees did when they entered, which should have been a negative sign, was don a yellow plastic outfit, a hairnet, rubber boots and headphones. If you're into beauty...this isn't the look you'd want.
I was assigned to the highest rung of the 'catwalk', the unloading table. This was the first stop for the tomatoes coming directly from the field by truck. My mission, should I choose to accept it, was stripping the tomatoes from any vines still attached, weeding out any rubble...which I soon found included snakes, dead rabbits, and other assorted pests. I didn't last long at the task because my screams kept interrupting the flow and I couldn't master the wrist fling that freed the fruit. Instead, I continually pelted those around me with maters. I got moved when, suffering from human contact and humor, I started displaying obscene tomatoes to my neighboring workers.
From there I went to the sorting table, two rungs down. This table held only the roundest, plumpest tomatoes, headed for the steamer. My job was to make sure there were no rotten spots, stems, or other problems. I would have probably been awesome at the task had I not immediately been hit with motion sickness. I felt as though I was moving and the table stood still. My pasty pallor and drunken swagger attested to my nausea and I was relegated to the steam table at the bottom. I'm sure you can see where my career is headed.
You might have heard that steam is good for the complexion. Wrong...especially when it opens your pores to tomato juice splashing from the table onto your skin. I thought I'd finally found my niche, but soon looked forward to a break in the monotony and heat.
Some ten minutes that was. From the top, it took eight and a half to climb down the metal scaffolding, wash off, and find a place to sit. By the time I did that, it was time to get back to work. This is definitely not a career for someone who needs a break from standing.
I finished off the day there, but went home with the worst case of hives ever. I woke up the next morning with a severe head cold, called in sick, and got fired for poor attendance.
As if that wasn't enough...I lost my gold nugget necklace somewhere in the fray. Somebody, some place found a nice reward in their ketchup, soup, or sauce. Believe me, that piece of jewelry was a real prize compared to the other strange things that end up in those products. I couldn't eat anything made from a tomato for over a year. There is no way you can get ever 'dead' thing off that conveyer belt...trust me. So...that was my worst, and shortest job ever. There are just some things I'm not cut out for and that was one of them. :) Any wonder why I became an author? You can sample my wares which are a lot safer than tomato products at Amazon.
borrowed from Google.images.comAfter moving to Northern California and relocating to Dixon, there was a time during my first marriage that I actually stayed home and was wife and mother. A couple of friends and I became bored and decided that a "seasonal" job that led to unemployment befits the remainder of the year wouldn't be such a bad gig. So...we trouped down to the tomato processing plant and applied. Surprise, we all got hired.
The first thing employees did when they entered, which should have been a negative sign, was don a yellow plastic outfit, a hairnet, rubber boots and headphones. If you're into beauty...this isn't the look you'd want.
I was assigned to the highest rung of the 'catwalk', the unloading table. This was the first stop for the tomatoes coming directly from the field by truck. My mission, should I choose to accept it, was stripping the tomatoes from any vines still attached, weeding out any rubble...which I soon found included snakes, dead rabbits, and other assorted pests. I didn't last long at the task because my screams kept interrupting the flow and I couldn't master the wrist fling that freed the fruit. Instead, I continually pelted those around me with maters. I got moved when, suffering from human contact and humor, I started displaying obscene tomatoes to my neighboring workers.
From there I went to the sorting table, two rungs down. This table held only the roundest, plumpest tomatoes, headed for the steamer. My job was to make sure there were no rotten spots, stems, or other problems. I would have probably been awesome at the task had I not immediately been hit with motion sickness. I felt as though I was moving and the table stood still. My pasty pallor and drunken swagger attested to my nausea and I was relegated to the steam table at the bottom. I'm sure you can see where my career is headed.
You might have heard that steam is good for the complexion. Wrong...especially when it opens your pores to tomato juice splashing from the table onto your skin. I thought I'd finally found my niche, but soon looked forward to a break in the monotony and heat.
Some ten minutes that was. From the top, it took eight and a half to climb down the metal scaffolding, wash off, and find a place to sit. By the time I did that, it was time to get back to work. This is definitely not a career for someone who needs a break from standing.
I finished off the day there, but went home with the worst case of hives ever. I woke up the next morning with a severe head cold, called in sick, and got fired for poor attendance.
As if that wasn't enough...I lost my gold nugget necklace somewhere in the fray. Somebody, some place found a nice reward in their ketchup, soup, or sauce. Believe me, that piece of jewelry was a real prize compared to the other strange things that end up in those products. I couldn't eat anything made from a tomato for over a year. There is no way you can get ever 'dead' thing off that conveyer belt...trust me. So...that was my worst, and shortest job ever. There are just some things I'm not cut out for and that was one of them. :) Any wonder why I became an author? You can sample my wares which are a lot safer than tomato products at Amazon.
January 20, 2016
Negative Traits = The Perfect Villain by Connie Vines
Looking for the perfect, or not so perfect, villain for your story?
Finding a hero, well that is perfectly simple. A dash of Prince Charming, a sprinkle of Albert Einstein, a quarter cup of Fred Astaire, a hint of Hans Solo. . .well, you get my drift. A quick whisk or two and TADA! You have a hero!
Not so, with a villain, that is an entirely different cup of (hemlock) tea.
Deeply flawed, and driven by: dark forces, questionable morals, a wounded soul, or simply bad fashion sense, villains must connect with readers in some realistic way. A strong villain forces the hero to step up, demanding more moral fiber than he, the hero, knew that he possessed. Remember, there is no “Happily Ever After” without the twists and turns supplied compliments of the villain!
Remember unless your villain is a serial killer, or the embodiment of pure Evil, he—the villain, must possession a rich and complex character and past. He must be a worthy antagonist for protagonist (aka: Our Beloved Hero). So, how exactly do you plan to come up with the perfect villain?
I like to start with back-story (of course for most of the novel this is known only to me). I pepper hints and drop in a few clumps of info. Later, the reader will say, “Of course! I should have guess sooner!” The reader may harbor sympathy (which I like to develop in my Tween stories). Everyone can relate to an event, which made a profound change is his/her life. Sometimes this even makes a person better/stronger. Other times (as in the villain’s case) it drives them to the edge of insanity, or damages them beyond (mental/emotional/physical) recover. However, in the beginning, the story all about the hero.
It is not until the middle of the story; we appreciate the villain’s ability to set those nasty plot twists into motion.
Your villain can be your hero’s mirror. Oh, you can go for the classic blonde vs brunette, if you are looking for campy. Or, you can look to character traits. The hero may be shy, fearful of horses, and a back-words sort of dresser with a gentle way with those in need. While the villain is confident, articulate (with a sexy accent), owns a stable of show-horses, wears Armani suits, and (at times the veil slips) he sees gentleness as weakness. He discovered as a child, only the strongest survive!
Give him quirks, sensitivities (remember the movie “Red Dragon”), an awareness of himself. Your villain must evolve also. He may escalate into pure Evil, or see the light. Or, perhaps, reside somewhere in between the two places.
Remember to open his old wounds. Something, be it a place, event, smell, or sound must trigger his behavior. Show the villain trying to avoid a situation, event.
I can’t divulge too much about my “villains” due to the manner in which they tie into a story’s plot. However, I will give you a hint, or two.
Whisper upon the Water, my YA/Tween novel set in the late 1880s in a Native American boarding school deals with the aftermath of the Indian Wars. The story also addresses the way the children were treated and forced to become “White”. My villain is Sister Enid. The reader will discover that Sister Enid as a story of her own. My romance and romantic suspense novels, Lynx and Brede (Rodeo Romance Book 1 & 2), also have carefully constructed villains.
My next BWL release, is an anthology, Gumbo Ya Ya has five separate stories. And, a myriad of delightful villains to boo and hiss at!
· “Marrying off Murphy” my villain is a friend who shoves my hero into an ‘unwelcomed situation’.
· “Love Potion # 9” brings us two villains: “element of magic” and. .well, that’s enough of a hint.
· “A Slice of Scandal” is a murder mystery where villains abound.
· “The Ghost of Gombi Island” we have a pirate, a ghost, and a witch on the high seas (I will let you ponder the villain’s identity.)
· “1-800-Fortune” (a T.A.R.A. and Fool for Love, finalist). Brings us an unnamed villain (at least until the final pages—remember, no peeking when you purchase the book).
What character traits.
Or what I’ve discovered usually irritate me, and, consequently, my hero the most. Remember, just like the menu at “Denny’s” you can mix or match your selection.
Abrasive, Antisocial, Catty (one of my personal faves), Confrontational (perfect for a co-worker when combined Catty and Devious). Or, Obsessive (no wait, that’s me!), Paranoid, Perfectionist, Self-Destructive, Vindictive. These are just a few traits, I am certain you can name many, many more.
Does you villain need the limelight? Alternatively, does he prefer to hide in the shadows? Does he have a driving need to belong? To be loved?
Your villain did not just crawl out from beneath a toadstool.
Write that backstory and make certain your villain is the worst that he can be!
Reader, who is favorite villain--the person you love to hate? Why?
Connie Vines
Finding a hero, well that is perfectly simple. A dash of Prince Charming, a sprinkle of Albert Einstein, a quarter cup of Fred Astaire, a hint of Hans Solo. . .well, you get my drift. A quick whisk or two and TADA! You have a hero!
Not so, with a villain, that is an entirely different cup of (hemlock) tea.
Deeply flawed, and driven by: dark forces, questionable morals, a wounded soul, or simply bad fashion sense, villains must connect with readers in some realistic way. A strong villain forces the hero to step up, demanding more moral fiber than he, the hero, knew that he possessed. Remember, there is no “Happily Ever After” without the twists and turns supplied compliments of the villain!
Remember unless your villain is a serial killer, or the embodiment of pure Evil, he—the villain, must possession a rich and complex character and past. He must be a worthy antagonist for protagonist (aka: Our Beloved Hero). So, how exactly do you plan to come up with the perfect villain?
I like to start with back-story (of course for most of the novel this is known only to me). I pepper hints and drop in a few clumps of info. Later, the reader will say, “Of course! I should have guess sooner!” The reader may harbor sympathy (which I like to develop in my Tween stories). Everyone can relate to an event, which made a profound change is his/her life. Sometimes this even makes a person better/stronger. Other times (as in the villain’s case) it drives them to the edge of insanity, or damages them beyond (mental/emotional/physical) recover. However, in the beginning, the story all about the hero.
It is not until the middle of the story; we appreciate the villain’s ability to set those nasty plot twists into motion.
Your villain can be your hero’s mirror. Oh, you can go for the classic blonde vs brunette, if you are looking for campy. Or, you can look to character traits. The hero may be shy, fearful of horses, and a back-words sort of dresser with a gentle way with those in need. While the villain is confident, articulate (with a sexy accent), owns a stable of show-horses, wears Armani suits, and (at times the veil slips) he sees gentleness as weakness. He discovered as a child, only the strongest survive!
Give him quirks, sensitivities (remember the movie “Red Dragon”), an awareness of himself. Your villain must evolve also. He may escalate into pure Evil, or see the light. Or, perhaps, reside somewhere in between the two places.
Remember to open his old wounds. Something, be it a place, event, smell, or sound must trigger his behavior. Show the villain trying to avoid a situation, event.
I can’t divulge too much about my “villains” due to the manner in which they tie into a story’s plot. However, I will give you a hint, or two.
Whisper upon the Water, my YA/Tween novel set in the late 1880s in a Native American boarding school deals with the aftermath of the Indian Wars. The story also addresses the way the children were treated and forced to become “White”. My villain is Sister Enid. The reader will discover that Sister Enid as a story of her own. My romance and romantic suspense novels, Lynx and Brede (Rodeo Romance Book 1 & 2), also have carefully constructed villains.
My next BWL release, is an anthology, Gumbo Ya Ya has five separate stories. And, a myriad of delightful villains to boo and hiss at!
· “Marrying off Murphy” my villain is a friend who shoves my hero into an ‘unwelcomed situation’.
· “Love Potion # 9” brings us two villains: “element of magic” and. .well, that’s enough of a hint.
· “A Slice of Scandal” is a murder mystery where villains abound.
· “The Ghost of Gombi Island” we have a pirate, a ghost, and a witch on the high seas (I will let you ponder the villain’s identity.)
· “1-800-Fortune” (a T.A.R.A. and Fool for Love, finalist). Brings us an unnamed villain (at least until the final pages—remember, no peeking when you purchase the book).
What character traits.
Or what I’ve discovered usually irritate me, and, consequently, my hero the most. Remember, just like the menu at “Denny’s” you can mix or match your selection.
Abrasive, Antisocial, Catty (one of my personal faves), Confrontational (perfect for a co-worker when combined Catty and Devious). Or, Obsessive (no wait, that’s me!), Paranoid, Perfectionist, Self-Destructive, Vindictive. These are just a few traits, I am certain you can name many, many more.
Does you villain need the limelight? Alternatively, does he prefer to hide in the shadows? Does he have a driving need to belong? To be loved?
Your villain did not just crawl out from beneath a toadstool.
Write that backstory and make certain your villain is the worst that he can be!
Reader, who is favorite villain--the person you love to hate? Why?
Connie Vines
January 19, 2016
I Hear Voices, Do You? #pantser
I wonder now at people condemned to asylums because they insisted they had "voices in their heads." Could they have been authors? Especially, 'pantsers' and don't do any plotting?I never had voices in my head before I started writing...now I've had more than I can handle in this lifetime...all screaming their ideas at me and wanting me to tell their story. I'v found myself so confused at times, I don't know which one to listen to, so I just didn't work on any. I've tried revising my writing style to plotting, but I just can't do it. I need my characters to lead me, but when they're all shouting???
Here's a typical day in my life, from the perspective of me and my 'crew.' Mot of these books are finished and available on Amazon, but I do have one pending. All have new titles and covers.
Odessa: It's been days since you've typed a word of my story. Here I am, all goosebumpy over the fellow who found me in the middle of the desert, I'm dying to kiss him, and you've just left me hanging. Get on with it, would you? Odessa should be a first priority. NOW TITLED; ARIZONA SKY
Carrie: Whoa, hold on Dessie. Wait your turn. Ginger started First Degree Innocence long before your silly tale. You just jumped in and interrupted her with the ploy about your pa being trapped under a wagon or some such nonsense. Your urgency is a "kiss"? Really. I'm stuck in prison for something I didn't do, some ballsy chick called Jet is after me to help her set up a friend by planting a shiv, and all you can worry about is when you're gonna get kissed. Give me a break.
Meagan: Shut up, both of you. I gave Ginger the idea for a story that just might qualify for the Harlequin Undone series, even though she's not so great with steamy love scenes. *whispering* Don't tell anyone, but I think she's a prude at times.*back to yelling* The story requirement is only 15,000 words, so if you'll just take a seat and hold your tongues, maybe she can get creative and finish the damn thing. Crap...this just in. She shared the story with some cronies of hers and they tell her it's not hot enough. Now she's got this crazy idea to just make it an historical novella, called Tender Return. Geez, and I gave up my virginity for this? NOW TITLED: TIME INVESTED
Clarence: God, is bickering all you women ever do? I have murder cases to solve and lives to save. Sort of makes your silly little plot lines look weak, don't you think? I think The Pendant should take precedence. Right now, I've only had two deaths and I'm working on the cases, but Ginger just submitted this to Books We Love for re-release so I'm waiting to find out who gets the necklace next, or where the darned thing came from. So stop your yammering so she can listen to me! WAS TITLED THE LOCKET. IS AVAILABLE NOW ON BWL AS THE PRIZE FOR THEIR VALENTINE'S CONTEST.
Faith: *sniffing* What about me? I'm still waiting for her to start In Search of Joshua. How am I ever going to find happiness if all you keep taking cuts. FAITH IS PART OF AGES OF LOVE AND I STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN TO IN SEARCH OF JOSHUA.
Clarence: Taking cuts, my ass. You already have a book published with you as the heroine. Give someone else a chance. Geez, talk about greedy.
Faith: Well, it's not just me that's anxious. The people who read the first book...at the least a couple of reviewers, didn't care much for the ending because I didn't connect with Joshua. I have to find him.
Carrie: Take a chill pill, Faith. Try living behind bars and worrying your cellmate is going to snuff you out during the night and then come talk to me. I wish I knew if I was going to survive this story or not. I'm not getting any younger, ya know.
Joy: Hey...don't forget me. I know she only typed a paragraph of my story, but I have a wonderful one to tell...and with a twist none of you have come up with. I think she's stalling on mine because she just can't get kinky. But, I intend to keep yelling in her ear until she finishes Joy's Revelation. JOY'S REVELATION IS NOW PART OF DISCOVERY...A SEVEN SHORT STORY RELEASE IN WHICH EVERYONE DISCOVERS SOMETHING. :)
Odessa: Revelation, smevelation. It's late. We all have a gripe, but we'd better shut up so Miss EPPIE nominee can get some sleep or she'll never finish anything. At least we know she must have some talent. *laughing*. Good night guys. Talk to you tomorrow.
Clarence: Okay, Goodnight. But I get first crack at her in the morning. It's only fair because lives are involved.
Faith: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Whoever screams the loudest... Goodnight everyone...you too John Boy!
Everyone giggles.
If you are interested in any of my books, you can find them all on Amazon.
January 18, 2016
Nerd Nests
A grandchild was accused of being a “Nerd” because she played read and reread Lord of the Rings, and got hooked on TV shows like Mr. Robot and FRINGE. I wondered about this label at first, because she’s bright, outgoing, and swims in a sizeable pod of friends. I thought "nerd" implied "recluse," but I've come to see that although the term “nerd,” is fairly new, the old stigma has fled.
Meanwhile, the basic profile remains the same. "Nerd" is an inherited condition. My husband was always neat, even, his mother told me, as a child, a born organizer. The system might not always be apparent, but he will explain it to you, and he will back his preferences with an annoyingly inescapable logic. He built and flew model airplanes through adolescence. In neatly labeled boxes in the basement, beside his mourned, obsolete darkroom, are their engines, packed carefully in oil.
After we married, he worked in the budding IT world. At home, he spent a decade obsessing over Ansel Adams’ Zone System. He could bring a loud party with the latest Stones album to a stand-still if given an opening, those omnipresent gray scale test sheets in hand. His photography, as he practiced in darkroom and after kitchen table grokkings of his work, was inspired. As a result, we’ve got rafts of wonderful pictures of our boys.
As for me, I was an only lonely child living in the country. Nearsighted (“Lizzie Lens” the ‘50’s joke) it was easier for me to read than to relate to a world of other children I couldn’t quite see. I hung out in my imagination, creating an entire world ruled by dogs; I drew charts of canine dynasties. Oddly, the dogs rode horses, and I had a huge box of plastic and china animals. Later, I cut to the chase and simply sat on the floor and talked to myself. When I was a child, this was called “good” behavior because I stayed out of the way of adults as much as possible. Nowadays, I’d probably be dragged to a shrink.
I’ve always been vulnerable to biography. I began a life of passionate attachments to dead white men with Davy Crocket. By the time I was eleven, my affections had fastened (pretty much permanently) upon Alexander Hamilton. This was a fairly odd choice for a crush in the age of Elvis Presley, but my next choice, Richard III, the (perhaps) 15th Century murderer of his nephews, was thought by some to be downright creepy.
Once, kids like us hid our obsessions. These days, there are plenty of OCD types who are "out of the closet." The Big Bang Theory is a top comedy.
So, when the oldest granddaughter puts on her “Talk Nerdy to Me” tee and heads out to binge on X-Files, or to play War Craft with her friends, I feel a distinctly warm glow. When the other girl, now a HS Junior who plays in the marching band, becomes a Word Pad Star with her funny Rick Riordan fan-tic, I cheer out loud!
Both girls are bona fide members of The Creative Clan.
~~ Juliet Waldron
http://www.julietwaldron.com
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS
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January 17, 2016
My Grand Announcement for the New Year by Suzanne de Montigny
Welcome, Suzanne...It's been a while. I've been crazy busy with Christmas, my kids, Mexico, etc., but now I'm back. And how did I start my new year? With edits of course. I have this new publisher, Books We Love, who have taken on my entire unicorn series. I'm thrilled. So far, they've released Shadow of the Unicorn: The Legacy as an ebook, soon to be followed by a print book. Check out the beautiful cover.
Is that incredible or what? You can download a copy here. It's quite inexpensive, plus better your tween read than game, right? And boys like it just as much as girls because it's action-packed.
Now, I've completed the edits for Shadow of the Unicorn: The Deception that will be released as an ebook on Valentine's Day, followed by a print book. Check out this cover.
Nice, eh? Aren't you just wondering why there's a glacier in the picture? Not telling you why, but it's really good. Apparently my editor gave it highest praises.
Of course, I'm working madly on book three, The Revenge too but haven't got a cover yet. And, I'm pushing to get A Town Bewitched published by hook or by crook within the next few months.
Anyway, here are my blurbs:
Shadow of the Unicorn: The Legacy
A loud, hissing sound filled the air. The unicorns looked up, their eyes filled with horror.
Azaria, a unicorn colt, is intrigued when the young, clairvoyant dinosaur, Darius, foresees a terrifying change to their world. When a giant fireball smashes into the earth, the unicorns struggle to survive the hurricanes and starvation that follow. But nothing compares to the danger when the creatures-that-walk-on-two-legs settle in the valley, and their leader discovers the healing power in the unicorns’ horns. Greedy and ruthless, Ishmael will stop at nothing in his pursuit of wealth – even the complete extinction of the herd. Azaria must find a way to outsmart Ishmael before it’s too late.
Shadow of the Unicorn: The Deception:
Sixty years after the unicorns’ narrow escape from extinction, Azaria's Legacy has gone wrong. The new generation barely exists, hidden in the depths of the forest. Their cruel and ruthless leader, Icarus, threatens them daily with Jaresh, an invisible being capable of taking away their powers. Angry, the young colt Ulysees and his friend Téo rebel, following an old, abandoned trail where they’re discovered by humans. Now the entire herd must flee. But Ulysees learns there’s a far greater danger than humans when he meets a giant creature who warns him of impending doom…
I'm totally psyched! I can't wait to hold four print books of different titles in my hand! It's my New Year's resolution that I publish four books this year. I have other ambitions too, but am keeping that secret for now. Ta-ta.
Check out Suzanne's author page on Amazon.
Is that incredible or what? You can download a copy here. It's quite inexpensive, plus better your tween read than game, right? And boys like it just as much as girls because it's action-packed.
Now, I've completed the edits for Shadow of the Unicorn: The Deception that will be released as an ebook on Valentine's Day, followed by a print book. Check out this cover.
Nice, eh? Aren't you just wondering why there's a glacier in the picture? Not telling you why, but it's really good. Apparently my editor gave it highest praises.
Of course, I'm working madly on book three, The Revenge too but haven't got a cover yet. And, I'm pushing to get A Town Bewitched published by hook or by crook within the next few months.
Anyway, here are my blurbs:
Shadow of the Unicorn: The Legacy
A loud, hissing sound filled the air. The unicorns looked up, their eyes filled with horror.
Azaria, a unicorn colt, is intrigued when the young, clairvoyant dinosaur, Darius, foresees a terrifying change to their world. When a giant fireball smashes into the earth, the unicorns struggle to survive the hurricanes and starvation that follow. But nothing compares to the danger when the creatures-that-walk-on-two-legs settle in the valley, and their leader discovers the healing power in the unicorns’ horns. Greedy and ruthless, Ishmael will stop at nothing in his pursuit of wealth – even the complete extinction of the herd. Azaria must find a way to outsmart Ishmael before it’s too late.
Shadow of the Unicorn: The Deception:
Sixty years after the unicorns’ narrow escape from extinction, Azaria's Legacy has gone wrong. The new generation barely exists, hidden in the depths of the forest. Their cruel and ruthless leader, Icarus, threatens them daily with Jaresh, an invisible being capable of taking away their powers. Angry, the young colt Ulysees and his friend Téo rebel, following an old, abandoned trail where they’re discovered by humans. Now the entire herd must flee. But Ulysees learns there’s a far greater danger than humans when he meets a giant creature who warns him of impending doom…
I'm totally psyched! I can't wait to hold four print books of different titles in my hand! It's my New Year's resolution that I publish four books this year. I have other ambitions too, but am keeping that secret for now. Ta-ta.
Check out Suzanne's author page on Amazon.
January 16, 2016
Sunday Snippets #sundaysnippets by ginger simpson
Desperation's Bride - My current WIPClara grabbed a shawl from a nail by her bed and slipped the garment around her shoulders. “Should I just have Mr. Curtis add the purchase to Linus' account?”
Ma brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Yes, daughter please do.. He has left me no money and there shouldn’t be a balance at this point.” She dipped her chin and gazed at the floor.. “Linus may be unkind to you when he imbibes, and I’m sorry for that, but I’ve spoken with him in harsh terms about his treatment of you, and I expect things will improve." She raised her gaze and displayed a smile that appeared forced."He is a good provider though and kind most of the time.”
The woman looked so sad, Clara struggled against telling of her plans, but thought better until she knew for certain things would work out with Mr. Pollett. Would he accept her and make her happy…or was she planning a move from the pot to the fire?”
She embraced her mother. “I don’t blame you, Ma. I’m fine, and I appreciate you are taking up for me" Clara gazed at the sunlight shining through the wooden shutters. " I’d best be going so I can get to town and back in time for you to have your flour for dinner fixins'.”
Clara stepped outside. The August air caressed her cheeks with warmth, but as the sun lowered, the temperature would cool. She removed her shawl and draped it over her arm, drawing in a deep breath and inhaling the smell of the coming fall. With any luck, she’d enjoy Thanksgiving and Christmas as a new start to life…one she’d treasure.
The walk to town during the changing of the season renewed Clara's energy. Leaves of reds, oranges, and yellow made an artist’s pallet of nature and colored the scenery for the entire trek. Cheeks warm and breathless from the hike, she heaved a sigh of relief at seeing the mercantile which also served as the local post office.. A bell over the door tinkled her arrival, and before inquiring about the needed flour, she stood at the counter, her heart pounding.
“Hello, Mr. Curtis. Is there by chance a letter for me?”
**********************************
This is my next proposed novel, and I'm very excited about it. Clara is a great communicator, and although this is my first draft, I expect it will turn out great. I hope you'll come with me on the journey to complete the story. If you'd like to sample some of my other stories, please check out my Amazon page..
In the meantime...I have a few friends I'd like you to visit. They do Sunday Snippets too:
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)
January 15, 2016
Valentine's Contest Most Deadly
My paranormal novella, The Pendant is being offered as the Valentine's Contest Most Deadly on the Books We Love site. There will be ten winners of the story, a pendant as shown on the cover, and one lucky entrant will also receive some Godiva chocolates. If you don't win, the novella will be offered through the KDP program for only 99 cents. Hope you enjoy.
Here's the blurb for this one-of-a-kind story...no hero or heroine..just an inanimate object that gets passed down through the years:
RE: The PendantGinger Simpson 8:09 PM To: bookswelove@telus.net
I've revised the original blurb to fit because I like it so well. I love the idea of the story and a prize. Great idea. BTW...I have 14 lockets.
Ginger
Can you consider a necklace a gift if it makes you angry enough to kill? A simple trinket left in a confessional begins a pain of destruction throughout the years.
The silver pendant, left behind by a woman who killed her boyfriend, is supposedly cursed; at least that’s what she claimed before she raced out of the church. Anyone who dares fasten the locket around her neck suffers severe and uncontrollable anger. Woe be it to anyone who gets in the path of the wearer. Is the piece cursed, or are the deaths totally unrelated? Detective Clarence O’Day is unwilling to make the connection—until forty years after the first case.
http://bookswelove.com/books-we-love-contests/ CLICK HERE TO ENTER
Cover by Michelle Lee
Here's the blurb for this one-of-a-kind story...no hero or heroine..just an inanimate object that gets passed down through the years:
RE: The PendantGinger Simpson 8:09 PM To: bookswelove@telus.net
I've revised the original blurb to fit because I like it so well. I love the idea of the story and a prize. Great idea. BTW...I have 14 lockets.Ginger
Can you consider a necklace a gift if it makes you angry enough to kill? A simple trinket left in a confessional begins a pain of destruction throughout the years.
The silver pendant, left behind by a woman who killed her boyfriend, is supposedly cursed; at least that’s what she claimed before she raced out of the church. Anyone who dares fasten the locket around her neck suffers severe and uncontrollable anger. Woe be it to anyone who gets in the path of the wearer. Is the piece cursed, or are the deaths totally unrelated? Detective Clarence O’Day is unwilling to make the connection—until forty years after the first case.
http://bookswelove.com/books-we-love-contests/ CLICK HERE TO ENTER
Cover by Michelle Lee
