Vicki Pettersson's Blog, page 2

Goodreads Giveaway

I have four lonely Advanced Reader Copies of SWERVE sitting next to me, whispers rustling through their mean pages, “Read me … read me …”

Isn’t that sad?

So now through the 18th (just over a week) I’m holding a giveaway over on Goodreads.

 

Goodreads Book Giveaway


Swerve
by Vicki Pettersson

Giveaway ends May 18, 2015.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to Win

US only, I’m afraid, but still pretty cool. I’ll personalize and sign SWERVE for those four readers in hopes that if you enjoy it, you’ll share that review and the book with others.

Necessary caveats: These are ARCs, so any typos/misspellings/etc., have been corrected in the final version. Don’t worry about them, just enjoy the ride (pun intended).

Which brings me to my second caveat and reminder: unlike my past work, this is no fantasy. I’ve always written relatively dark books (hey, catharsis takes many forms!) and violence is nothing new, but this one seems to be hitting readers square given that there’s no longer a supernatural remove to soften the blow, so be forewarned: reading SWERVE could result in an increase in blood pressure and heart rate. Signs of nervousness and discomfort may increase with continued reading, but should subside after closing the book. Reading before bed is not recommended. Author is not responsible for night terrors, nightmares, or excessive tossing and turning. Keep out of the reach of children.

Good luck, my Friendlies!

After a bad writing day.

So last week I wrote that I was having a Bad. Writing. Day. The gist was, we all have them, you just gotta keep coming back for more. So I did, and the very next day all of these things happened:

1) My neighbor brought me a fresh strawberry pie. No, this has nothing to do with writing, but it was a nice reminder that people are good, life is good, and at the end of even the worst of days … there is often strawberry pie waiting.

2) She brought a magnolia bloom, just cuz. Is there anything more beautiful than the scent of magnolias? I placed it by my computer, with all my notes and cards — the chaos of my mind laid out before me — and it scented the air as I tried to make sense of it all. Pretty, huh:

3) My friend, Dan–whom Daniel Hawthorne is named after in SWERVE–texted me to commiserate. Sure, it ended with:

Now let me go back to that crap-filled, crap-frosted piece of moldering crap waiting for me in MS word…”

But at least I knew I wasn’t alone.

4) My friend, Sara, emailed:

Those bad writing days? They’re just part of the creation process. Those days happen when the inner critic has risen up and come to light so much that the writer’s instinct has retreated to the inner-most cave. Those days of zero words and shiny floors force us to realize we’ve let go of the instinct and send us into the cave to find it. But to get into the cave we have to fight the doubt trolls and ask the right questions: What do I need to write next? Where did I lose my way? Which of my cards did I play from my hand too soon? Do I know my characters well enough? What part of the story am I missing? You’ll have to figure out your questions, but you’ll know it when you ask the right one. The cave will open. The instinct will be released, reunited once more with yourself. Words will flow until you hit this dark part of the cycle again. I think these dark days should count as good writing days, though, because the work has moved into the sub-conscious. You are a writer, a good writer, a real writer. You are more than just word count. (Easier said than done when staring down a deadline, I know.) Until you unlock that cave, eat, drink, be merry, exercise, clean as much as you want. It’s all part of putting your sub-conscious to work via physical activity. Take a bath, swim in the ocean. Do the things you feel you need to do, because once that cave opens, you will be flooded with words and there won’t be time to clean the floor.

I have the *best* friends.

(Aside: Why can’t we be that nice to ourselves?)

5) Talk about burying the lede, but it was the end of the day when I finally received THIS:

“Swerve is a rolling nightmare that speeds you down bloody highways and dizzying switchbacks. A road story as dangerous as a knife hidden in your boot.”
—Richard Kadrey, New York Times bestselling author of the Sandman Slim novels

One upon a time, Richard and I shared an editor, so I’ve been reading his work since the beginning of Sandman Slim, I’ve recommended it to my readers often, therefore this was very much a dream come true.

And how could I remain in a funk after all of the above? Impossible. So–the sun will come out tomorrow … and all that–and the next day I was back at this:

Sorry it’s blurry–it was a quick snap to text to my husband to show him that I was back in the saddle. His reply? “Aw, cute! You’re doing arts-and-crafts!”

No, baby. That’s my brain spread out all over the kitchen counter. It may not look like much now, but if I just keep hitting it day after day–and with a little help from my friends * –it’ll take shape soon.

Onward.

* Cyndi and Dan and Sara and Richard and all my Facebook friends who offered up words of encouragement–thank you, thank you, thank you.

 

A Bad Writing Day.

So my husband arrives home from work last night and sees that I’m in a funk. Also, the laundry is done and I’m sweeping the floor and I won’t look him in the eye. Basically, if I had a dorsal fin, it’d be bent down. So James pours two glasses of wine and sits us down by the open windows for the download.

J: How’d it go today?

Me: Not good. Not good at all. I wish this were easy for me like it is for all the other writers and I could just spit out the words and get it right on the first draft. But I can’t. I’m not that good.

J: Uh-huh. And who’s it easy for?

Me: [pulls out the big gun] Stephen King. He just won the Edgar for Mr. Mercedes.

J: Honey, he’s an amazing writer, but he wouldn’t have fallen into a crazy, drug-and-alcohol fueled stupor if it were easy.

Me: [frowns] That’s true. But I don’t think I can do it this time. I’ve never written a book like [SB] before. I don’t even know if it’ll work. I haven’t seen anything else like it. Maybe I should be writing another cat-and-mouse, like Swerve. Maybe that’s what people will want.

J: Just write the story.

Me: I’m scared.

J: Good. You should write scared. It’s when people write cocky that it turns to crap.

Me: I’m already writing crap.

J: Take a sip of wine.

Me: [sips] I mean, know my world and I know my characters and I’ve done my research and I should be able to write thousands of words, but now it’s like I have too much information and it’s all jumbled up in my mind and I don’t know where any of it’s supposed to go.

J: Did you do your notecards?

Me: Just for the first act. I wanted to get to the words.

J: How many books have you written using the notecards?

Me: All of them. Ten.

J: Then why aren’t you doing it that way? That’s your process. That’s how you organize your thoughts. So go into the study do that! Spread them out all over the table! Remember that video you showed me last weekend?

Me: I love that video.

J: So do that!

Me: But the words!

J: Just spend the whole day with the cards. Spend as long as it takes to straighten it out and tell the story. Besides, you love that part of it, too.

Me: I know. I do. It’s my favorite part, daydreaming the story. But it’s too much fun. I need to get words.

J: [goes off on a home-building analogy; ie., you need blueprints/a strong foundation, etc., before hammering the first nail. Implicit: Dummy.]

Me: Okay. I’ll go back to my notecards tomorrow. But just for the record I feel like I should be getting actual words.

J: They’ll flow once your thoughts are in order. Just have fun, and remember why you’re so passionate about telling this particular story. Tape it up somewhere. Keep it to the forefront of your mind with every scene. Get excited about it again.

Me: Okay. The words all suck anyway. It’s going to be a terrible first draft no matter what.

J: That’s not true, honey … all your first drafts are totally self-publishable.
*

And that’s how a pep talk goes in my household.

Off to the cards.

(Notecards during the writing of SWERVE. For those of you who already know the story, that’s a map of the terrain before Vegas and LA taped to the wall behind the desk. Both the map and the notecards reminded me of where I was going.)

The in-between: Or, how I dream.

I did an interview the other day regarding writing and the writing life, and I was asked what my favorite part of the writing and publishing process was, and why. It’s a hard question because some the things that are under your control—like the writing—aren’t always pleasurable. For example, I hate first drafts. They’re fumbling, humbling, error-ridden, messy, arduous. I like rewriting because at least there’s something to shape, and a hope that you’re eventually going to end up with something resembling a book.

Conversely, some of the things that are not under your control are actually pleasurable. I know this sounds oxymoronic, but when you can feel a gathering of people around your book, those who are genuinely excited about it and in a position to do something about it, that’s magic. And that’s what I told the interviewer.

But my favorite part of writing is where I am with SWERVE right now: silence. I’ve spoken with publicity, and those wheels are turning. The tour schedule is being planned, while my editor speaks with sales and marketing. The ARCs have gone out (Advanced Reader Copies—for reviewers, bloggers, and author endorsements), and I can tell they’re landing because I’m starting to get photos like this:

 (Incidentally, as much as I fly I have never seen one of my books being read on an airplane in person … and I’d like to. Bucket list fodder, folks.)

 I’m also starting to hear back from other authors. If you follow me on social media, you saw that I received an amazing endorsement from (THE) Christopher Golden last week:

 “SWERVE is a relentless, brutal thriller with breakneck pacing and heartfelt characterization. Pettersson is a prizefighter, keeping the twists coming like punches to the head, but by the novel’s end both author and reader emerge victorious.”

  —Christopher Golden, New York Times bestselling author of TIN MEN and SNOWBLIND

 And this week I’m happy to share this absolute gem from (THE) Kim Harrison, who has also read it and—I can say it, she’ll let me say it—loved it:

“Summed up in four words:   one twisted, horrifying ride. Vicki Pettersson’s SWERVE kept me up the night after I finished it. Her writing always holds a gritty truth, but she pulls out all the stops in this new thriller set in the Mojave Desert, sending me on a dreadlocks-tight journey of Kristine Rush’s past and present, proving that childhood scars never heal, but we can survive and find strength in them. I stand haunted at Pettersson’s vision of what one person can endure in the name of love, the pain another can cause in the name of the same. Perfectly terrifying.” 

  —Kim Harrison, #1 New York Times bestselling author

 Outside of my betas and agent and editor, these are the first people who’ve read my book. They’re peers. They’re professionals. And when they like something that I’ve been living with for the past four years? Yeah, it’s a definite high. Monster high.

So it’s not all silence, is it?

Yet this is still a golden age for me in re. to SWERVE. See, once it’s out there it will belong wholly to the readers, which is the way it’s supposed to be. But for now—just a couple of months—I can look at the finished product and love it without reservation. I don’t have to protect myself against negative reviews, I don’t have to put on my armor and hold up my shield against the battering this four-year-old baby is gonna take from someone who perused it in a night. It’ll happen, and I’ll keep my head ducked behind the next thriller that I’m working on, using that as my shield, but for now I can look at it and love it and just be vulnerable.

So that’s where I am right now. Looking at it with bald hope and dreaming: someday, somewhere … I’m going to scare the shit out of someone on an airplane.

Dad.

I had to write an obituary this weekend. Not my usual fare. This, my friends, was my father:

This was my father:

 

This was my father:

This was also my father:

Um . . . that’s not my mother.

 

I miss you every hour, Dad.

 

SWERVE is coming!

I posted this on my “personal” Facebook page yesterday* but here’s the official announcement—along with shiny new cover and hot-off-the-press cover copy. Ladies and gents, may I introduce to you my new book and my first (!!!) contemporary thriller, SWERVE!

 

Hello new, dark, seriously moody, squalling baby. *happy sigh*

Those of you who follow me on social media know that I’ve just shipped off the copyedits—meaning that all that’s left on this baby is the spit-and-shine—and so I’m finally able to talk more freely about it. As the book is titled SWERVE, you can bet I’ve planted more than a few ‘Easter eggs’ regarding its meaning in this story, but as you can see from the tire tracks, the desert, the darkness: it’s quite literal as well.

This is a chase book set in the high desert, my friends.

This is cat-and-mouse in the Mojave, where the setting (as usual) is as much of a driving force as the main characters.

This is . . . One woman. One road. One killer.

Here’s the official cover copy:

In the electrifying tradition of Dean Koontz and Gillian Flynn comes the first riveting psychological thriller from the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author!

It’s high summer in the Mojave desert, and Kristine Rush and her fiancé, Daniel, are en route from Las Vegas to Lake Arrowhead, California for the July Fourth holiday weekend. But when Daniel is abducted from a desolate rest stop, Kristine is forced to choose: return home unharmed, but never to see her fiancé again, or plunge forward into the searing desert to find him …where a killer lies in wait.

Sprinting against the clock, and uncertain if danger lies ahead or behind, Kristine must blaze an epic path through the gaudy flash of roadside casinos, abandoned highway stops, and a landscape rife with horrors never before imagined. Desperate to save her doomed husband-to-be, Kristine must summon long forgotten resources if she’s to go head-to-head against this unpredictable killer. And she’d better hurry. Because she only has twenty-four hours . . . to make one hell of a trip.

*

The journey begins on July 7, 2015—and, yeah, it’s a 4th of July road trip to boot—but you can already pre-order it at the retailer of your choice:

Directly from my publisher, S&S

Amazon

B&N

BAM

IndieBound

Kindle

iBookstore

Nook

And, listen, my friends—I’m going to really need your help and support on this one, so this is me asking for it. It’s my first hardcover, so if you like my work, please save your pennies for July. It’s also my first thriller–and there’s a lot of people in the thriller world who haven’t heard of me yet–so I’m really going to need my longtime readers and friends to hop on board if this is going to be a success. So please share the cover, this blog, my upcoming posts, reviews, etc. Whatever you feel moved to do. And please buy the book. That’s my Big Ask of you–and I thank you in advance.

Frankly, though? I’ve made it easy for you. I love this book, and if you love my writing, you will too. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever written, and for those of you who lamented the end of the Zodiac series–and my take-no-prisoners heroine, Joanna Archer–well, now I’ve given you a real world girl with some serious Grit.

Meet Kristine Rush. Get ready to ‪#‎Swerve.

*My “personal” Facebook page is very simply a page where I can interact with my readers. I post everything that I post on the Like page, but I post it there first, I converse with my readers, and I share extras there, too. Best of all, unlike the “Like” page, I can actually see you too . . . and I Like that. :) So please consider joining me there.

How I Quit Writing.

WARNING! Epic post alert. You’re going to be here awhile.

Two years ago my husband and I went to Paris together for the first time. It. Was. Magical. We fell hard for that city, and while we did make a regretful pilgrimage to the Louvre to pay our respects to Mona Lisa (regretful because we couldn’t get out of there fast enough) we ended up skipping all of the other touristy destinations. We skittered around the Champs Elysees and overslept, missing our appointment to hit the top of the Eiffel Tower. I am from a tourist town, and frankly, tourists are pretty much the same everywhere. I didn’t want to see tourists. I wanted to see Paris.

So what did we do instead? We walked. Sans map—and save the occasional glance at our navigation app to locate a particular arrondissement—we simply peered around corners and decided which way to go depending on what street and shops looked most interesting. Our next great adventure—places I never knew existed, maybe even new friends—were potentially, literally, right around the next corner. It was so fun!

So the magic of Paris for me is not only that it’s beautifully built, or that it has a particular, gentle light to it, or that it’s history-rich (if history were foie gras, Paris would be the goose. All that drama just chocked down the throat of the Seine!), it’s that you can just keep doing this—roaming until you’ve gorged yourself on her (and is there any doubt that Paris is a she?) before turning another corner—et voila!—relief in the form of a bottle of wine and cheese. (Guys, I actually lost weight doing this. Paris is the Best. Diet. Ever.)

And, by the way, while I value being in shape, my poor body was not used to logging these miles. So about midway through my third day, as we were launching ourselves up a picturesque street that nevertheless asked quite a bit of us in return, my legs…stopped. Like, I was telling them in my brain to keep going, but they were too busy tingling—not in a chafing sort of way, but inside the flesh, as if all the champagne bubbles I’d consumed were now attacking my thighs. (Death by champagne. I should be so lucky.) Essentially, I had walked so much that my legs had turned into the equivalent of a spoiled two-year old in the full throes of a tantrum. It. Couldn’t. Hear. Me. So—clearly being the adult in charge here—I very reasonably sat down and had some wine until they decided to work again.

Okay, so why am I telling you all this?

Because last summer, after years of pushing myself professionally, with deadlines (both reasonable and not), and while meeting tons of people (both enjoyable and not), and having my own fair share of wonderful highs and crushing disappointments, my brain—like my body in the streets of Paris—shut down. It went numb.

Mind, it didn’t tell me it was going to stop working—every week I would tell myself I was going to get back on the treadmill, plot that new book, write that 2K a day, blog and promote and be social, Social, SOCIAL!—but in retrospect (always in retrospect) I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d just come out on the other side of a particularly tough previous year—and mind you, I was through it, I had won, I was happy and free and beginning new things—and for the first time in almost ten years I had breathing room in my work schedule. Which was when my brain decided, “Great. I’ve done my job and got you through that. Now I’m going to go sit at a cafe in Paris–with or without you.”

Forget trying to get it back to work, I couldn’t even get it to care. I didn’t walk around singing ‘Let It Go’ or anything—I was now too busy worrying about not caring—but the bloody thing didn’t work. James finally started asking, “Um, are you going to start work today?” And I wasn’t sure because for the first time in years I was more interested in what was going on in front of my face than what was happening in my head. (Procrastination! I told my brain. Um…no, it said. Life.)

I also finally learned what the word was for the numbness I was feeling: Burnout.

Here’s a line from my journal just a few months ago:

11.20.14 – Having a day where I feel like where I am is exactly where I need to be.

This, on a day when I wasn’t a writer. Something that would have been unimaginable to the person I’d been for the past decade. But, in my defense, all I can say is that it just felt so good not to be numb.

So I quit writing. What did I do instead?

–I stopped, dropped, and rolled every time the little people in my life entered the room.

–I worked out and really paid attention to my body, instead of treating it like an obligation I needed to get through.

–I went to the beach and filled my head with the sound of the waves—no books, no words, no goals.

–I took care of a loved one who fell critically ill and was humbled, not hurried, doing it.

–I played with my friends.

–I took care of myself.

And I finally got clear enough to realize that when your body—or in this case, your brain—stops working and refuses to start again, you should probably take a serious look at what the hell you’re doing to it. I knew that if I was going to write again—if I was going to allow it back into my life with all this other really good stuff I was cultivating—I could only do it in a healthy way. Here are the life hacks that’ve made that possible:

Meditation. (did you know there’s an app for that?) That stuff really works. I have a thirteen minute one that restores my whole day, but I can do it in as little as seven. (Try Happify, if you’re interested. I like it.)

Physicality. I’m working with my doctor to make sure my body is happy and firing on all cylinders—blood tests, the whole works. After all, I gotta live in this baby for another forty-plus years, and I’d started showing signs of serious stress. Insomnia, throat closing up, panic attacks, teeth grinding. Once they start it’s hard to stop. Better to head them off, and quick.

Less writing. Writing is different from other jobs I’ve had in that it’s almost impossible to turn off, but I do it now. I no longer write all day, even though it’s my full-time job. I average 2-3 hours. Then I go get a life. Surprisingly, this hasn’t affected my pace. I’m fresher and happier when I hit the page because I have a full life beyond it. Who knew?

Gratitude. I practice it, man, and it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. It’s not this easy-breezy, ‘Oh, I’m so thankful for my awesome things! or whatever. Instead, when I’m really feeling it, it’s like a racehorse who has been returned to his stall after a hard workout, and he’s getting a rubdown. He did his best and now he’s being an animal, reveling in it. That’s how I am with my blessings. I did my best and it’s all good work—thank you, thank you, thank you.

Cherry pick my obligations. I focus on what I like about my job, and I ignore the rest. Frex, I’m “supposed” to be on Twitter. It’s not that I don’t like Twitter, but I really like my personal Facebook page because it feels like a safe place where I can be authentic, and a bit silly, and actually connect with my readers. It’s a gathering of the people I want around me, and those who actually want to be around me. They are my tribe, my self-proclaimed VPeeps, my friends and readers. I don’t ever get harassed the way some writers do online. Why? I think it’s because I’m not seeking the approval of those outside my milieu. My readers give me a safe spot to be vulnerable, and if someone is remotely untoward? They close ranks. I love them for that.

(Cherry-picking sub header: I also stopped supporting people who don’t support me. Not everyone in this biz is nice. You don’t have to play with them.)

New Hobbies. I’m not going to share them because they’re still new to me. They feel green and fragile, so please indulge me in that.

Goals. Yes, I still have them. I have three novels sitting in my immediate future, things I actually crave writing, and I have a master list I look at every week. I still stick to a schedule and make my deadlines. However, I am thoughtful about whom I partner with, and exceedingly careful about what I commit to. (I say ‘no’ a lot.) I’ve partnered up with a new publisher, Gallery, who is doing some real outside-the-box stuff, and am excited for SWERVE to be a part of that.

Honestly, though, I can no longer say that I’m a relentless careerist. I still can’t bring myself to care enough for that. Yet it’s enough for me that I’ve figured out how to create hard (rather than work hard) without grinding myself into the ground, and that’s why I’m writing this. I’m seeing a lot of the authors I started out with, career writers who have been running as hard and fast as I have, who are showing signs of burnout, too. And I want to tell you all: it’s okay to include hours of daily life, real life, in your writing routine. The worst thing you can do is allow yourself to get in a position where your publisher doesn’t really get behind you, or a particular book doesn’t do as well as you’d hoped, and you look up from the page, bleary-eyed, only to realize that there’s nothing else there. The good news is that if you’re like me, and you’ve logged well over your ten thousand hours, and you’ve already spent years of your life developing the habit of reading and writing, you can do less of it and actually produce more and better work than ever before.

This has already gone on too long, but I’m going to give you an example, with a caveat: I hate advertising word counts and word wars and “1K in 1 Hour!” exercises because they’re essentially meaningless metrics. You can hit that goal in one hour, and still have four pages of utter crap. None of that’s meaningful unless it’s meaningful to you.

That said, I wrote 27K in the last two weeks with days off, as needed, for real life, and I did it writing only a few hours a day, more or less (more if I could, less if I could ;) ). There are aspects of writing that I can streamline because I already have the habit of reading and writing in my life. I also know exactly how I work after ten books. And when I need to I can take my foot off the gas and use my reserves to coast.

What I can’t do (if I want to be in this game for another decade, and another decade after that) is spin my wheels or drive myself into the ground. Screw that.

If I’m going down, it’s going to be death by champagne.

On being Resolved.

Happy first full week of the New Year! I hope all of my friends and readers saw 2014 out with a kiss and a wave (or a good boot to the door, whatever was needed) and that you’ve had a brilliant beginning to 2015. I spent mine with my core family, and am so grateful for every moment. In years past the holidays were frenetic and crazed—I’ve been known to say that I loathe December altogether more than once—but this year was all Flow. It was dinners out with friends, travel, and celebrations mixed in with real life. I had and met deadlines with ease, and there were none of the holiday worries about overeating or missing workouts—it was just Life. It was…weird.

So I’d planned a post today about resolutions—yes, I made some this year, and filling up this space more regularly is one of them—but I’ve decided to save that post for next week. An email arrived on the first of the year and it made me so happy that I can’t get it out of my mind.

I belong to the International Thriller Writers (ITW) organization and they have a monthly newsletter called The Big Thrill. I love to read the interviews therein, and am lucky enough to have been featured before as well, but yesterday’s edition held something special. A feature story on writer Susan Adrian, and her new release, TUNNEL VISION.

TUNNEL VISION is a YA thriller, and you may be thinking, but Vic—you write adult para-mysteries and now a thriller…why do you care? Well, here’s the deal: Susan Adrian and I have been friends for well over a decade, when we were both part of an online community (back before there was a proliferation of online communities) called Books and Writers over at CompuServe. I wish I knew the percentage of published writers who came out of this forum because it was an absolute creative think-tank for so many of us who love writing fiction. Diana Gabaldon was the great draw for most of us; she was a forum section leader, and a mentor by example, and the graciousness and accessibility she exhibits online today has deep roots in a decades-long practice of the same behavior. (I think it’s fair to say that most of us had read OUTLANDER before Sam Heughan was even out of diapers, and that’s not even hyperbole…but I digress.)

Anyhoo. Susan was a fellow forumite. We were contemporaries. And when my first book sold in ’05, she was one of the first to congratulate me, and continued to support me for years. It couldn’t have been easy at all times. As much as we all know that one person’s success does not mean your own failure, there’s always an element of When is it going to be my turn? I understand this. I feel it, too—which is why her support meant so much. Meanwhile, Susan continued to write. She wrote and wrote and wrote. She finished books. She acquired rejections. She acquired an agent. And still she had to wait. (To read about her journey in her own words, go here.)

Friends, this business is hard. What people don’t realize—what I didn’t realize even after I was published—is that you continue to experience rejection and failure at every level. I still do, which is why—like a shark—we gotta keep moving. That’s not easy even when you’re doing well, and it’s damned near-impossible during hard times. Noes are everywhere. Blocking them out and keeping to a singular faith—I want to do this, I can do this, I have the right to do this—is hard, and every writer I know struggles with it.

That’s why I’m so proud of Susan—for indeed sticking it out, for listening to her heart, for ignoring the noes, and doing what she wanted anyway. It humbles me to see it, and it gives me hope—because, hey, I’ve written ten books, but now I’m facing down number eleven and I’ve never done that before. Thinking of Susan, typing to the beat of her stubborn heart in the middle of the night—creating her own yes one word at a time—is so inspiring. So thank you, Susan, for persevering and bringing TUNNEL VISION into the world. I am so happy and excited for you, and I can’t wait to read it.

 Everyone else: Read her book. Read it to your kids. Read it and know that being resolved in your own heart really does pay off. Not a bad reminder as we head into this new year.

*

For more info on Susan and her books, visit her here. She’s also very friendly and active on social media so friend her on Facebook and Tumblr, too!

November: The State of Affairs

I thought I’d post a shot of my desk today because it perfectly encapsulates my entire day (more on that in a minute) as well as what the next few weeks are going to look like (Thanksgiving turkey excluded).
 It’s also a good day to take a snapshot because today also feels like a new start for me. I’ve just received edits back on my (first) thriller, and am now free to swan dive back into that world. I can’t wait.
 I haven’t spoken a whole lot about my thriller yet—I always have this transition period between selling a book and talking about it overmuch; a place where I know it’s good even thought it’s not yet fully realized. A lot of authors find this waiting period unbearable, but I love it because it’s in these months that the book is still fully mine. Expecations haven’t yet risen, critics haven’t yet scoured the pages for what they dislike, and in this state of prolonged silence I am free to still love it with unabashed, wholehearted vulnerability. Time enough to toughen up later.
 I can also reflect on the process of writing at this time, especially with the onset of edits. It allows me to revisit that place where the story was still just a thought and not yet a thing—but do it from the safe distance of ninety thousand completed words. No matter what happens now I can say, I did it. I mined something inside of me that had only a sliver of value–a tiny sparking vein of potential and truth–and I made it Real. So standing over here, all alone? It feels Good.
 Yet the messy art of creation loves ambiguity, and there’s still plenty of that. Up now, other than edits, is the title. I found and lived with SWERVE for many months, yet it no longer works due to Other Books with the same name. I sobbed over that a bit–I loved that title and it worked on so many levels–but I think I have a great opportunity to come up with something even better.
So this is what my desk looks like today, lots of things going on at once:

 

1) A notebook with handwritten words which apply to my thriller—a balls-to-the-wall, 24-hour chase through the steaming Mojave—a list that will grow as I comb through the manuscript during edits. I’ll then cull the list, mindmap and bubble chart it, and see if I can’t make some great new associations. Wish me luck.
2) The first twenty pages of edits, printed and onscreen, because I need and love the tactile advantages of a printed page. I need to attack both global issues and line edits, so I’m also going to have to come up with an organized way of doing that. Each book is different.
3) I don’t know if you can see it, but there’s a sheet of notes with thoughts and concerns my editor and I have already discussed behind the notebook. That’s for ease of reference, and that too shall grow.
4) Red pencil at the ready.
5) Ug—looks like I have some contracts that have been sitting and waiting to signed and returned to my agent at Foundry, but I have questions re. them and haven’t gotten around to verbalizing them yet. (Sorry, Peter!)
6) Those are, tellingly, buried under this sleepy idea that woke up over the summer only to become an obsession this fall. I’m going to wait until the first draft is written to see what I want to do with it, but those are the world building notes sitting atop Peter’s contracts.
7) My shakeology drink as I have to workout in a bit and it’s fast and filling and easy.
8) Finally, nail polish because I have this fancy cocktail thing that’s going to cut my day short—so I can let it dry after the workout, hopefully while I do some meaningful work here at the desk, and before I have to stop and brush ALL of my hair.
What you don’t see: I need to get a newsletter out to let the readers who don’t follow me on social media know that THE REORDERING—the e-novella that continues the Signs of the Zodiac series—is now available.

(Did you know? It’s true. You can get it on Amazon, B&N, Kobo and on iTunes.)
And I think that’s quite enough, don’t you? I’ll be back in a couple of weeks (skipping Thanksgiving week, because who cares about anything but turkey just then?) to let you know if I’ve come up with a workable title—otherwise I might have to invite you into the fray…if only to save me from myself.

THE REORDERING on Story Bundle — Out Now!

THE REORDERING is here!

I’m so excited to share this novella with you, and am honored to be a part of the Urban Fantasy bundle up at http://storybundle.com/fantasy. Some background: these stories were curated by the fabulous and talented (and nice—but shhhh…don’t tell him I said so) Kevin J. Anderson, who kinda knows everyone, and therefore it features an awesome batch of books, several of which are not available for sale anywhere else. These include:

An original Dan Shamble, Zombie P.I. collection Working Stiff, by Kevin J. Anderson. (Seven cases featuring everybody’s favorite dead detective—and a special sneak preview, because the book itself will not be released until January.)

The bundle also includes a new Harry Dresden compilation by Jim Butcher—Working for Bigfoot. (All three of Harry Dresden’s Bigfoot cases, never before collected.)

My original, never-released work is The Reordering, also not yet available elsewhere. (This is a Signs of the Zodiac sequel…for those of you who’ve been wondering what happened to Joanna Archer after The Neon Graveyard—and What Comes Next.)

Also, Carole Nelson Douglas put together a brand new collection of her popular Delilah Street Urban Fantasy stories, just for this bundle.

These above collections cannot be found anywhere else.

Other New York Times bestselling authors include David Farland with his novel Nightingale, Michael A. Stackpole has Tricknomancy, and P.N. Elrod delivers The Devil You Know. Want more? Elizabeth Bear offers Whiskey and Water, a novel of the Promethean Age, Rhiannon Paille has Villains from her Ferryman and the Flame series, and Peter J. Wacks delivers Hair of the Wolf.

So here’s the quick and dirty on StoryBundle: you name your own price—whatever you feel the books are worth, and a portion of the proceeds goes to charity (in this case, the Challenger Centers for Space Science Education, Mighty Writers, and Girls Write Now). For $5 (or more, if you feel generous), you’ll get the basic bundle of five books in any eBook format—WORLDWIDE. If you pay $14 (or more, if you feel generous), you’ll get the five bonus books as well.

The initial titles in the bundle are:

Neon Noir by Carole Nelson Douglas
Nightingale by David Farland
Whiskey and Water by Elizabeth Bear
Working Stiff by Kevin J. Anderson
Villains by Rhiannon Paille

If you pay more than the bonus price of just $14, you’ll get another five books:

The Reordering by Vicki Pettersson
Tricknomancy by Michael A. Stackpole
Hair of the Wolf by Peter J. Wacks
The Devil You Know by P. N. Elrod
Working for Bigfoot by Jim Butcher

This Urban Fantasy bundle runs for three weeks only. It’s e-only and you can easily read it on computers, smartphones, and tablets as well as Kindle and other ereaders via file transfer, email, and other methods. You get multiple DRM-free formats (.epub and .mobi) for all books, but after the three weeks are over, the bundle is gone forever!

Note: I will have THE REORDERING up for sale on all vendor sites in three weeks for $2.99, so if you’re interested only in Joanna’s story, you have the option to wait for that. I don’t think you’ll want to, however, as foregoing a cup of designer coffee will get you all these other great stories…and you’ll get the jump on reading with Joanna Archer has been up to—not to mention that the ending will reveal a little something I’ve been holding close to my chest: What Comes Next.

Happy reading!