Denise Covey's Blog

#WEP October #Horrorfest - Life is a sunless garden. #IWSG October - let's talk about ghosts.

 Hello there!

I know I'm a week early for the IWSG, but what the heck. It fits in perfectly with the WEP special challenge, so I'm all over it.

October 2 question - Ghost stories fit right in during this month. What's your favorite classic ghostly tale? Tell us about it and why it sends chills up your spine.
My favorite ghostly tale is Dracula, the old classic vampire tale, often credited with so much vampire lore. But ghosts come in various forms. The ghost I'm writing about today is all too common, but has a lot in common with vampires .
There remains a fascination with paranormal romance. Here's the latest:
"63% of Amazon's top 100 best-selling books in 2024 are Romance titles, and 30% of those feature paranormal or fantasy elements."  Alex Newton (K-lytics

So here I go...

It feels so good to be writing again. So if you missed my last post, you'll know I'm back after a long hiatus. I'm the epitome of the #IWSG. I feel like I've forgotten everything about publishing etc, but am glad that the writing is still there. And I'm starting back with #flashfiction, my favorite. If you missed it, WEP is back for an October special challenge for all those who've been missing the motivation to write out of your comfort zone. 

The idea for my WEP entry hit me when I recollected Oscar Wilde’s quote –“A life without love is like a sunless garden.” I thought about thepossibilities, and this is what I came up with.

 

A Sunless Garden

 

A Sunless Garden

The city of New Orleans moved to its chaotic rhythm,indifferent to the hollow ache nestled inside Clara's chest. How many peoplewere like her, going through the motions but not really living? You’d neverknow with all the color, noise and mayhem surrounding her. She was an emptyshell, nothing left inside but cold and desolation.

Completely out of sync with her city.

She sat at her favorite café window, mesmerized by rainstreaking down the glass. Every drop felt like a tear she couldn’t cry, everyshadow on the pavement outside a whisper of something lost.

"More coffee?" The waiter, his smile mechanical, held up the steaming pot of darkness. Clara liked his offishmanner. No chatting. Just isolation.

She nodded, not caring that she hated the bitter taste. Thewarmth it gave was all she craved, a small comfort in a world grown cold.

As she sipped her third brew for the day, a glint caught hereye—outside, across the street, a man stood under the awning of her favorite bookstore,Dead End Books. His eyes locked on her, not with the casual gaze of a passer-by,but with a dark, knowing intensity. Clara’s breath hitched. There was somethingwrong about him, something familiar, yet utterly alien.

She looked away quickly, her heart pounded, the air in thecafé suffocated her. Her breath was choking gasps. The last time she had feltthat sensation was with Thomas, her late husband. The same heart-racing fear masquerading as love. What torture had he planned for her when hereturned from work and decided he hated the meal she’d prepared? But Thomas haddied three years ago, and the pitiful trickling of love that had once warmedher world had died with him.

She’d always been lonely. Thomas was her antidote toloneliness, her lifeboat, until she came to prefer loneliness to her life withhim.

Guilt tore at her. Why did she do what he asked right to theend? How could she administer that lethal dose that took him from the world?When she refused, he cursed and ranted, spittle flying in her face. Then hesaid his final words – “I’ve never loved you. Truth is, I’ve hated you for along time.”

He was taunting her. He always taunted her to get what hewanted. She shouldn’t have done it. But she gave him what he wanted as shealways did.

As the needle pricked his arm, his eyes glinted, triumphant.To the last you obey me, they said.

Now, her life was a sunless garden—dead flowers choked byweeds, nothing but shadows.

She scanned the street, but the man had disappeared asquickly as he’d appeared. Yet unease gnawed at her. She left notes on the table,rushed from the café, her heels clicking on the wet sidewalk in a hurried,hollow rhythm.

As she rounded the corner, she felt it again—that eeriepresence.

Not someone.

Something.

She spun around, but the street was empty. The hairs on theback of her neck stood on end. As drops of rain fell on her head, the worldseemed to warp, grow darker, the sky a bruised gray that smothered the lastvestige of light.

She sped down the bright, graffitied alley close to herapartment, but the walls were black towers, pressing against her. Everyfootstep echoed twice. Someone was walking behind her.

She stopped.

Turned around.

The man. At the far end of the alley. Shrouded in shadow. Hestood, legs planted apart, arms raised in the air like a boxer ready toadminister the first blow. His eyes glowed faintly through the shadow, the wayThomas’s had the night he died—distant, lost to the sickness that had taken him,yet triumphant when she carried out his bidding.

"Who are you?" Clara demanded, her voicetrembling.

The man stepped forward, walking slowly in her direction, andwith every step, the world dimmed. The lights flickered, street trafficsilenced, even the rain stopped mid-air, frozen in time.

"You … know … who … I … am."

Her heart raced, the truth clawed at her mind. This wasn’treal. Couldn’t be.

"Thomas? But you’re dead.”

The figure smiled, but there was no joy in it.

"Not exactly."

His voice was Thomas’s, but colder, laced with somethingdarker, more threatening.

"You let me go, Clara. You killed me. Now you have noone. Instead, you’re living in this sunless garden of grief, and you’ll never escape."

Clara took a step back, her pulse a wild drumbeat in herears. "This can’t be. You’re not him."

The figure stopped before her, so close she could smell hisstench. Tilting his head, he growled like an attack dog.

"No. I am what’s left. The emptiness. The darkness youinvited in when you let love go."

“What we had wasn’t love. You hated me. You taunted me. Youbeat me.”

Her back hit the alley wall. She was trapped by shadows.

"What … what do you want?"

His eyes glowed brighter, the alley swallowed the last fragmentof light. "I want what you took from me. What you buried with your cold heart."

“My heart was never cold. That was all you. Despite how youtreated me, I loved you.”

His teeth grimaced, rotten and yellow. His face in hers, hisspiney hands encircled her neck.

“But I never loved you, Clara. I pitied you. Your life hasalways been a sunless garden.”

He squeezed, harder, harder.

Her eyes bulged, opened long enough to see the triumph inhis.

And then the world went black.

In the silence, broken only by the inhuman sounds emanatingfrom her throat, she realized the truth. Love was not the sun. It was thegarden. Without it, the shadows had come for her.

TAGLINE:

The scourge of Domestic Violence reaches beyond the grave.

 

WORDS: 1000

FCA 

Aren't you sickened by those horrific stories of domestic violence and despite the money thrown at the scourge by the government, the violence gets worse. And I don't believe in judging women for staying in a toxic marriage - not everyone has an 'out' and some are kept in this situation by crippling emotional needs.

I wanted to show how far reaching domestic violence is - it reaches beyond the grave.

Thanks for visiting and reading. It's good to be back to blogging!

The awesome co-hosts for the October 2 posting of the IWSG are Nancy Gideon, Jennifer Lane, Jacqui Murray, and Natalie Aguirre!

To read more Horrorfest stories, click on a name below

HELLO THERE! I'M BACK!

 Hello blogging friends (if I have any left!) Out of sight, out of mind? Hope I can claw my way back to this much-loved community. As said in my last post before disaster struck, I prefer blogging over all other social media. And I will come by to say hi!

I'm too late for the IWSG this month. I told Alex of my situation, but I've been away too long and no longer have my exalted position near the top of the list. 💔

So...where have I been?

On April 4, my son was taken gravely ill with respiratory failure and has just been released from hospital after 4 months! So from that you will deduce he is still not out of the woods, so my husband Geo and I are helping take care of him at his home in Brisbane. We used to live here in the city and love it, so it's not such an impost although we miss the beach like crazy. 

Now we don't have to bus it to the hospital every day, I've taken some time for myself and here I am at the gorgeous Brisbane Square Library in a nice little possee with a view over the Brisbane River and the new bridge connecting the South Bank with the new casino complex and reconnecting with the writerly world. 

So, hello again, fellow writers! I'm so glad to be back!

Anyway, anyone who knows me knows of WEP (Write...Edit...Publish) and how we had to close down, some insisted temporarily due to overwhelming life challenges, and turns out they were right. Many said they needed WEP to write to a challenge every two months and some said they'd not written anything since we stopped with the challenges so Yolanda, Nilanjana, Olga, Jemi and Sonia all agreed to reopen for a challenge in October, our funnest month, with a Thrillfest. 

So, thanks to some clever artwork from Olga Godim, our badge guru, we have prepared a challenge for all those who like to have a crack at flash fiction of the scary kind, or non-scary if you can't bring yourself to horrify readers.

This is going to be my first foray into writing for four months! I have two completed novels which I will be rereading and sending to editors, but I fear I've forgotten more than I ever knew about publishing. Hmm. Going to be a tough road home. Found anything that works for you? Do share!

Here I present WEP's October Horrorfest!

Are you ready?

Thought we were caput didn't you?!!

Nope, just dealing with life's issues,

but we're ready once more.

For a NEW CHALLENGE!

It's coming up in October

Just in time for Halloween!

Write about what scares you.

Whether it ghosts, or goblins, or ghouls...

Or it's relationships, spiders, or snakes...

Maybe you fear tomorrow, or yesterday,

the past, or the future.

With so many fears, there's no reason

not to participate.

So we'll see you there!!!!

Post your masterpiece

    OCTOBER 1st through the 16th

Just affix your link and get ready for

some amazing writing!!!!!

Don't forget, comments count!

See you then with a link!

Thanks Yolanda Renee for letting me steal the promo which is found at the WEP website.

Sadly, two of our original members have passed - Sally Stackhouse and Nancy Williams. They are sadly missed by us all.

Hopefully we will see some of you posting your stories with us in a celebration of the gift of life!

#IWSG April 2024 - Blogging, social media ...

 Here we are, another month done and dusted. Hope your month was rewarding in every way.

April 3 question - How long have you been blogging? (Or on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram?) What do you like about it and how has it changed?

Hmm. The question this month makes me think. I've been blogging for a gazillion years it feels, but I think I began in 2007. 
Someone said today that blogging hasn't really changed over the years, but I disagree. Or, rather, it's we who have changed over time. 
I started with a travel blog to enter a competition, L'Aussie Travel, then created a Paris blog as a place to talk about my favorite city, then Flashquake blog where I posted my stories to the #Fridayfiction prompts, then began Romantic Friday Writers, which became  WEP, a trusted place to write flash fiction to prompts, and toyed with the idea of a separate blog for my paranormal pen name, Silver Tree. Way too much work. So now I'm going to make a major change to this, my author blog, and put all my eggs in one basket (couldn't resist the pun).
When social media became a thing - yes it wasn't always a thing - many of my blogger friends left for Facebook especially, which is a lot less work than blogging. 

Even though I'm a lot less enthusiastic about blogging than I used to be, I still prefer it to FB/X/Insta etc. even though I force myself to 'do' these when the spirit moves me. Blogging is much more personal and I do still have a few blogging friends left, not too many, unfortunately. 

Writing can be an isolating experience, so it helps to touch base with fellow writers once a month for the IWSG, and latterly, I catch up with my WEP friends each month or two on the WEP site. All good.

The awesome co-hosts for the April 3 posting of the IWSG are Janet Alcorn, T. Powell Coltrin, Natalie Aguirre, and Pat Garcia!
  Be sure to visit the
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!!!
See you in May!

Denise

#IWSG March 2024 - ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE - DO YOU USE IT TO WRITE SYNOPSES?

Hi all!

Lovely to meet again so soon for the IWSG! March already!

I love the optional question this month -

Have you "played" with AI to write those nasty synopses, or do you refuse to go that route? How do you feel about AI's impact on creative writing?

 I'm not one to put my head in the sand when something new arrives on the scene. It seems AI has well and truly arrived and is here to stay. We've heard the stories of them plagiarising authors and so on, and that needs to be sorted. But there are helpful things about AI and I wrote a whole post HERE.
AI is still imperfect. I ask it to write a synopsis and it gives me a blurb. That's okay. So I ask it 'how do I write a synopsis' and it gives me all the correct points. So I haven't taken it a step further yet and given them the synopsis points they gave me then tell them to write a synopsis for this story...ha ha. 
I've had some great blurbs written by AI but they needed a lot of editing and I mean A LOT! They like to write in quaint old-fashioned language.
So I always like to see examples. Here is ONE of the opening paras of a blurb AI wrote for my current WIP. What do you think of the language?

In the enchantingcity of Paris, where the aroma of freshly baked croissants fills the air,Angelique Ravello has decided to revive her beloved cookery school after adevastating loss. Determined to start anew and heal her wounded heart,Angelique has sworn off men, focusing solely on her culinary passion.

The awesome co-hosts for the March 6 posting of the IWSG are Kristina Kelly, Miffie Seideman, Jean Davis, and Liza @ Middle Passages!

  Be sure to visit the
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!!!
Thanks for coming by!
Denise

 

#WEP Get Together and #IWSG February 2024 - What turns you off on writers' blogs?

 Hi friends!

I am using this post for the monthly WEP Get Together and the IWSG. Although WEP is no longer operational, the team is tight and we're still having a meet and greet on the first of the month to share our news. Anyone is welcome to join us.

CLICK on the WEP site to read some inspiring posts!

How's the new year treating you? Any great successes? 

So far my year has made a slow start - I watch the New York news so I know the US has been battered by snow etc. Down here, Australia is battered by floods, cyclones (I got caught in one) and a long-lasting heatwave. Not an auspicious beginning to the year.

I have struggled to write amidst the mayhem. Hot, draining weather is not conducive to writing, which is why NaNoWriMo is in the Northern Hemisphere's winter. 

So my January plans of publishing two more novels has come to naught. One is ready, one is undergoing final tweaking by moi, then I'll be sending it out to betas and then an editor. Going to try a great development editor, Yolanda Renee. We've helped each other over the years. A great friendship which will continue even though we don't have WEP to hold us together. I'm playing back her kindness by showing her shingle.

See link above.

So, brings me to the IWSG question of the month:

February 7 question: What turns you off when visiting an author's website/blog? Lack of information? A drone of negativity? Little mention of author's books? Constant mention of books?
I think the question underlines what we mostly know - authors are doomed if they do, doomed if they don't. We get turned off if an author tries to sell us a book, or talks about it constantly, and if they don't, we think their marketing plan is skewiff. Hmm. Can't win. 
I think my website is unassuming. I have a Page for MY BOOKS which I'm pretty sure no one has ever clicked on. Correct me if I'm wrong. But blogging makes friends, not sales. Which, along with the constant dabbling by google and co which results in people not being able to comment etc, is why some bloggers leave for Facebook and Instagram or other socials. A lot less trouble. Do you agree?

The awesome co-hosts for the February 7 posting of the IWSG are Janet Alcorn, SE White, Victoria Marie Lees, and Cathrina Constantine!
Visit if you can!
See you in March!
Denise

WEP AND #IWSG DECEMBER - WEP BREAKING NEWS - THEN 'OVER TO YOU', MY FAVORITE MOVIE - THE SONG OF BERNADETTE

 Hello there!

Welcome to my last WEP entry. What's that? As many at the IWSG have been involved with WEP over the years I'm placing this information before my WEP entry which is below if you'd like to read it and call it my IWSG post. 

I'm not insecure about closing down WEP; I think the team has done a great job, been selfless in the interests of our writers for such a long time. But all good things must come to an end, even something as good as WEP.

Thisis our final WEP challenge, as after 13 years, WEP is closing down.

 Thisis partly due to the stressors on the team which have been relentless sinceCovid and are ongoing, and partly because of the drop in the number ofparticipants this year.  We know many WEP members are experiencing theirown stressors in the form of health challenges in themselves or family memberswhich impacts their writing time.

 Aftermuch consideration, the WEP team concluded that this is the time to finish. Notexactly on a high, but not exactly at the bottom of our game.

 Forthirteen years we have been a light for many struggling with their writinglife, and many of you credit WEP with the improvement in your writing andconfidence when submitting your work to publishers. This is what WEP set out todo and we can be happy in that we achieved the supportive writing community weset out to create. I know we could have done better in some areas, but due totime constraints we could not follow every avenue we would have liked.

 Thankyou to all who have visited our website over the years and offered us words of encouragementand thank you to those who took up the challenges which made the hard work rewarding.Our wonderful judge, Nick Wilford, attests to the quality of WEP writing whenhe judges each challenge, so it’s not just us.

 Aspecial thank you to those of you who have been with us for the whole journeyand we’re sorry that closing down WEP will have a great impact, but all is notlost. More info on the WEP website.

 THEFUTURE OF THE WEP ANTHOLOGY

 The WEP anthology is going ahead at this stage, for publication in May 2024, but as yet we do not have enough entries to take itforward. The end of December is the close of submissions, but if you intend tosubmit, please send Nila your information. We need at least 14 more submissions tomake the anthology viable. It will be a precious keepsake, so if you want tosee your story included for perpetuity, gain a publishing credit, send it in!

The awesome co-hosts for the December 6 posting of the IWSG are C. Lee McKenzie, JQ Rose, Jennifer Lane, and  Jacqui Murray!

  Be sure to visit the
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!!!
~*~ WEP ~*~ WEP ~*~ WEP ~*~
Now, for Over to You, we have been asked to base our story on our favorite movie. 

From the WEP Challenges Page: So...will it be a romance? action-adventure? familydrama? horror? Or will it be a comedy? tragedy? thriller?

I'm not absolutely sure how to categorize my entry - it's mostly fact, partly fiction, part essay with pictures...whatever...please enjoy,

A LITTLE BACKGROUND

I watched The Songof Bernadette with my sister when we were very young. I remember we bawled oureyes out afterward, and to this day it’s a movie I can’t forget.

The Song of Bernadette  is a 1943 American  biographical drama film  based on the  1941 novel of the same name  by  FranzWerfel . It portrays the story of  BernadetteSoubirous , who reportedlyexperienced  eighteenvisions  of the  BlessedVirgin Mary  from February toJuly 1858 and was  canonized  in 1933.  

The novel was extremely popular, spendingmore than a year on  The New York Times Best Seller list  and thirteen weeks heading the list. The story was alsoturned into a Broadway play, which opened at the  Belasco Theatre  in March 1946. 

DISCLAIMER: I am not a Roman Catholic, but I was profoundly touched by this movie. I do believe in miracles however. In these troubled times, we need all the miracles we can get!

A Song of Miracles

Based on a true story

In the quaint town of Lourdes, nestled amidst the rolling hillsof southwestern France, a sense of serenity lingered in the air undisturbed bythe echoes of the past that reverberated through cobblestone streets andancient stone buildings.

Lourdes, SW France
Amidst this peaceful setting lived a fourteen-year old girl named BernadetteSoubrirous. She was an ordinary peasant girl, but the richness of her spiritmade her extraordinary. Little did she or the townsfolk know her life wouldsoon become entwined with the miraculous.

Bernadette Soubrirous
“Bernadette! Go fetch some firewood,” was her mother’s cry each evening. “Stop your dreaming, silly girl.”

Bernadette did not mind the menial task or the sharpness ofher mother’s tongue. She loved to ramble beside the river, admire the wildlifeand discover secret grottos nestled in its rocky banks.

It was an ordinary day when it happened.

Bernadette wandered along the banks of the Gave Rivercollecting firewood for her family. Distracted by a strange breeze and a changein the light, she discovered a hidden grotto. Intrigued by its mysterious aura,she felt an inexplicable urge to linger. It was as if an unseen force beckonedher to stay.

Before her eyes, a vision appeared. Abeautiful lady clad in white stood on a rock niche. Bernadette fell to herknees. When she looked up, the lady had disappeared.

I will come to this magic grotto every day, Bernadettewhispered. As God is my witness, I will see you again.

Soon, whispers of an ethereal presence spread. Some of thetownsfolk doubted Bernadette’s visions, while others believed, but there was anundeniable sense of magic in the air.

“Maman,” Bernadette said after seeing the vision several times, “I have witnessed a beautiful ladybathed in light by the river, who spoke to me with a voice as gentle as thebreeze.”

“Enough of your silliness, my girl.” Her mother tossed herbright red hair. “Go fetch more firewood or you will go hungry tonight.” Shegrabbed Bernadette’s arm. “And stay away from the river.”

Bernadette, true to her vow, repeatedly visited the grotto despite her mother's warning.

The citizens of Lourdes stopped her in the streets as she made her way to the river. 

“Come with me. See the lady for yourself,” she told them.

On one visit, the lady asked Bernadette to drink and wash ata seemingly non-existent spring. Bernadette obediently dug a hole in the ground with her fingers and smeared her face with dirt.

“Ha! See! A charlatan, a trickster, an imbecile!”some onlookers cried, but their ridicule changed to wonder when water began toflow from the hole, and later to exaltation when its miraculous healing propertiescured the sick amongst them.

Even more people flocked to Lourdes to witness thesemiracles for themselves.

The news of Bernadette's visions reached the ears of thetown mayor, the sceptical Alphonse Lacade. Intrigued yet doubtful, he decided toinvestigate for himself.

“Do you truly see visions?” he asked Bernadette, trying todiscern the truth behind her extraordinary tale. “I see sincerity in your eyes andyou exhibit an unwavering conviction in your voice. I am truly baffled. Thistale cannot be true.”

“My tale is true,” she said. “I know they say I’m just apoor girl who has never suffered. Why was I chosen to receive visitations from theLady? I cannot explain. I only believe.”

The mayor doubted.

Many did not.

Soon the Massabielle grotto, became aplace of pilgrimage. People from far and wide travelled to witness the miracleswhispered to occur in Lourdes.

“Help me. Carry me to the waters,” the sick and blind cried.

“I need solace,” wept a young mother, clutching herchildren’s hands as she took her turn at the stream. “My husband has died. Themysterious Lady's presence comforts me.”

Bernadette watched in wonder as miracles occurred, overcomingscepticism and scrutiny.

Jennifer Jones as Bernadette

The hoards believed what they were seeing and spoke toBernadette. “We have witnessed the inexplicable: the blind seeing, the lamewalking, and the hopeless finding newfound hope. Bernadette, your song is oursong.”

The grotto transformed into a sanctuary of faith andmiracles, with countless pilgrims kneeling, praying, watching and spreading thegood news.

“The whole world needs these miracles,” they told eachother. “Look at Brother John. How long has he lay abed? Now he walks.”

Soon the kneeling believers were joined by men in robesstanding behind them, watching those who could not walk, walk, those who couldnot see, see. They were a delegation of priests of the Catholic Church,cautious and measured, sent to investigate the authenticity of the young girl's apparitions.They spent hours questioning Bernadette and examining the witnesses, anddeliberated over the inexplicable events unfolding in Lourdes.

In the end, after countless interviews and miraculous healings, the Churchrecognized the supernatural occurrences as genuine.

“We cannot doubt when before our eyes we see the lame walkand the blind see as Jesus promised. These visions are indeed a divineintervention. Even the mayor is now humbled by the inexplicable beauty of thesemiracles that have unfolded in his small town. We must see to the Lady’scanonization and build a sanctuary to The Lady of Lourdes.”

The Sanctuary to The Lady of Lourdes

The Song of Bernadette echoed throughout Lourdes,immortalizing the faith and resilience of a young girl who, against all odds,became the vessel for miracles. The grotto, once a hidden gem, now stood as asymbol of hope, drawing pilgrims from every corner of the globe.

The priests declared she must enter a convent. “You mustspend your days in reflection and prayer with the Sisters of Charity of Nevers.” 

And so, in the heart of Lourdes, amidst the timeless hillsand the flowing Gave River, the melody of miracles continued its song, carried on thewings of belief and the echoes of a song that transcended the boundaries of theordinary.

Bernadette herself refused to take the miraculous waterswhen a tumor grew in her leg. On her deathbed, she sorrowfully maintained thatshe may never see the lady again. However, the lady appeared in her room, smiled,and gestured to Bernadette. Bernadette joyfully cried out to the apparitionbefore she took her last breath.

The last words Bernadette heard: "You are now in Heaven and onearth. Your life begins, O Bernadette."

 

 

TAGLINE: Do you believe in magic? The miraculous? The humblebeing exalted?

 

Are people still being healed at Lourdes? According to the Catholic Register - Throughout the years, at least 7,000 people have reported experiencing supernatural healings at Lourdes, but a mere 70 of those cures have been recognized by the Catholic Church as miraculous — the latest, which took place in 2008, was declared in 2018.Thanks for visiting. See you for the next IWSG post.Denise

#IWSG NOVEMBER 2023. TRADITIONAL VS SELF-PUBLISHING

 Hi all!

Seeing comments are often not allowed on my blog, thanks Google, I nearly decided not to post. I've got to choose whether to add a new comment system, or move to my Word Press blog. Neither excites me. I'm on vacation so and have no time to fiddle. 

I'm not answering the question about NaNoWriMo in full. Yep. I've done it 5 times, but I don't write that way. I choose to go slow and edit each day's work most of the time. Sure that wastes time sometimes, but I can't help myself. These days many writers have their project fully planned before Nov 1 which wasn't the original idea, but what the heck? You do what you do.

click HERE to read more - including a list of pros and cons for both which we probably all know. 

My latest book, Fijian Princess, (which I started writing in 2015! Told you I was a slow scribe). When I read it again, I liked it, so I decided to polish it up and have it edited AGAIN recently. I'd shelved it after an edit, pretty discouraged. So, about 3 editors have cast their weary eyes over it at different times and at considerable expense to moi. It looks pretty posh now and so it should. 

So do I self-publish? Or do I shop around for a traditional publisher, small or big? I can't believe I'm actually asking this question - I've been on Team Self-Publish from the outset but it's a ton of work. Not that I expect an easy ride if I actually lasso a trad publisher. Just check out Damyanti's FB posts about her latest book. She puts in the hours. 

My final editor says I have a great story, will attract readers around the world, so, hmmm, I'm insecure about this. I need your help.

I won't be doing anything with this ms or my Paris Cookery School until early 2024. The rest of 2023 is ridiculously busy mainly with travel. I'm down in South Australia momentarily and face a long trip home in 3 days.

The awesome co-hosts for the November 1 posting of the IWSG are PJ Colando, Jean Davis, Lisa Buie Collard, and Diedre Knight!

  Be sure to visit the
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!!!
~*~

Anyone want to share their experiences with self-pub or traditional? I'd be grateful.

If you have some advice and can't comment, please flick me an email ...

den.covey@gmail.com

Thanks so much for reading/helping - 

Denise

#WEP #October2023 - My #flashfiction, THE GHOST OF OPERA GARNIER

 Hello all!

It's time for October's WEP challenge, based on the Phantom of the Opera. For this #flashfiction, I have retold the classic story in fairytale form, using third person omniscient, not the 'person' I usually write in, but I felt it suited this story.

Hopefully, my retelling of the classic suits the October thrill fest.

 

The Ghost of Opéra Garnier

Opera Garnier showing its underground caverns
Credit

Onceupon a time, in the beautiful heart of Paris, beneath the majestic OpéraGarnier, lay a world hidden from prying eyes. From the pinnacles of itsrooftops to its underground caverns and lake, it was a realm of whispers and shadows.Here passion and despair intertwined like dark strands of haunting melodies.

This wasthe home of the Phantom of the Opera who had lived in a labyrinthine lair beneath the theater for as long as anyone could remember. Shrouded in mystery andillusion, his soul bore the weight of a thousand unspoken sorrows.

The Phantom had been alegend in the Parisian opera house for decades. He was a genius - acomposer, master of disguise, violin virtuoso. His compositions, resemblingfragments of a tortured soul, echoed through the corridors and enchanted everysoul who heard them.

But the Phantom's truegenius lay in his artistry of concealment. In the decades he had inhabited thecavernous spaces, he had never been seen by a single soul, his presence onlyknown through the haunting letters and cryptic instructions he was wont to write.

He was hideouslydisfigured according to the rumor spread by members of the Belle Epoque societywho floated through the opera house halls in search of the next exquisiterendition of their favorite operas.

But if no one had seenhim, how did the rumor begin?

There was but one who knew him.

Her name was Christine Daaé, abeautiful, talented young soprano, the Phantom’s obsession. She was entrancedby her mysterious benefactor, believing him to be the Angel of Music her fatherhad promised would watch over her when she embarked on her new career. Hervoice had drawn the Phantom like a moth to a flame. He tutored her in secret,taking her from chorus girl to star of the opera in a few short months.

One evening, as Christineprepared to perform her signature role as Marguerite in "Faust," a fragrantred rose lay on her dressing room table, accompanied by a note in eleganthandwriting.

"My dearest Christine,

Tonight, the world shall hear your voice as never before.Tonight, you shall be the embodiment of perfection. Do not forget, my love,that you are mine, and I am yours. Let none come between us. Every note yousing, every breath you take, is a symphony of our shared passion.

Yours eternally, The Phantom"

 

 

Christine's heartbeat tripledin speed. She knew the Phantom watched her every move, guiding her togreatness.

“I will honor you with aperfect performance, my Phantom,” she whispered, laying the red rose in the centerof her dressing table.

She sang from the bottom of her heart;the audience hung on to her every note. The Phantom whirled around her, apresence guiding her to perfection.

Performance over, theapplause was one almighty roar. Over and over she was called back to the stageto bask in the adoration of the crowd until she stood knee deep in red roses.

But the only red rose shecared about waited in her dressing room.

She rushed from the stage assoon as the curtain fell for the final encore, her heart pounding with thethrill of the night.

As she entered thedressing room, the Phantom stood before her, a shadow cloaked in darkness. Herehe was, the man who haunted her dreams and shaped her destiny.

"Christine." Hisvoice a mix of longing and desperation.

She approached him, handoutstretched, curiosity overcoming her fear. "You were there," shewhispered, "with me on stage. I felt your presence. Are you indeed a ghostas they say?"

"Yes, I cannot denyit." His voice trembled. "My ghostly form allows me to always be withyou, my dear Christine. Your talent is a mystical gift from me, a reflection ofour love."

Christine reached out andtouched the glittering silver mask. "Why do you hide your real self?"

He hesitated, then removedhis mask. “If you reject me, I will leave his building, and you, forever.”

“I will never reject you,my Angel.”

The sight that met hereyes was beautiful and tragic. His skin pallid, his features distorted by acruel twist of fate. But his eyes, pools of deep emotion, overflowed with ayearning that reached into Christine's soul.

"You see, my love, Iam a monster as they claim," he murmured. “Unexplained deaths are laid atmy door. They declare I am a master of secrecy and horror.”

Tears welled inChristine's eyes. She gazed into his face. Placed a hand on his caped shoulder."Never call yourself a monster," she said. "You are a genius, amaestro of music, a man with a heart that loves deeply."

Tears ran down the Phantom’sravaged face. “I expected rejection, but your words fill me with a glimmer ofhope.” He touched her cheek, his gloved hand trembling. "Christine, I haveloved you from the moment I heard your voice. Will you ever be able to love aman as grotesque as I?"

Christine pressed his handto her heart. "I already do, my Angel. I love you for the music you havegiven me, for the passion you have awakened in my soul as no other has done."

The Phantom could notbelieve his ears. For so many years, he had hidden in the shadows, a ghost, believinghimself unworthy of love, and now, Christine offered him her heart. He kissedher hand, trailed kisses up her arm, his lips cold, yet gentle against herskin.

Their love was a forbiddenone that defied convention. But it was a love that transcended the boundariesof the world above and the world below.

“My Phantom, together wewill face the challenges that lay ahead.”

“Yes, Christine, our love isa melody that will endure for all eternity.”

And their bittersweetmelody echoed through the hallowed halls of the Opera Garnier for all time, atestament to the power of love and music.

TAGLINE: Love will find a way, despite exceptional circumstances.

For the month of December, you get to choose your own genre, story theme, whatever inspires you.

POST December 1 through to 15. 

WEP invites you to write an entry for their first Anthology, the theme, Gone! Gone! Gone! Submissions Open!  Close end December!

Thanks for reading,

Denise

 

#IWSG OCTOBER 4, 2023 - AI - Will it assist writers or replace them?

Hi all!

Time for another IWSG post. This month I'm very interested in the question:

The topic of AI writing has been heavily debated across the world. According to various sources, generative AI will assist writers, not replace them. What are your thoughts?

Like many writers, I've been following this debate for some time, well, years really. 
AI has come too far for us to stop it, or change it to much extent. 
Sure, there are writers suing ChatGPT for infringing copyright, but that's just a drop in the ocean. There are 18,000 Australian authors and 180,000 international authors who've had their copyright infringed as AI uses our books to teach from. This is going to mean copyright laws will need to be looked at.
I understand the negative view of AI-assisted writing, but I'm afraid it's here to stay, IMO. I've toyed with it, which is why I was interested to read an ARC of an author explaining how to use AI to our advantage.

Only available in paperback
link
Here's the beginning of Nina's blurb:

ChatGPT: Your Silent Co-author for Successful Romance Novels.

In order to make a living as a genre fiction author, you have to create morebooks, preferably in a linked series, faster than ever before.

And that is where a tool such as Open AI's ChatGPT can save you days if notweeks of work.

Say Goodbye to Procrastination, Boost Your Writing Speed, and Bring YourRomance Fiction to Life in Ways You Never Thought Possible.

ChatGPT is the writer's secret weapon. Shaping Bestsellers, One AI-AssistedStory at a Time.

You might be shocked that a romance author has already published this book months ago, but there you go.
Remember when mathematics was done in your head, then we developed the scientific calculator, then the computer which can solve a maths' problem in nanoseconds which would take us hours, days, months (me, forever). Taking this attitude, I can see Nina's idea of hurrying that writing along.
It is said that AI-assisted writing is the first real change since Gutenberg invented the printing press in 1440 and it was ready for commercial use 10 years later. The printing press finally democratised writing, printing texts at lightning speed instead of the beautiful, hand-styled pages laboriously created by monks and the like and available to very few. 

link

Haven't we all benefited from this invention?
So, I don't have a magic wand. Who knows how much AI will take over our writing. Amazon is onto it - you have to state if you've used AI in writing your book and you're limited to publishing 3 a day! Not that Amazon doesn't use AI - they've been using it freely to do all sorts of things data-wise. As have many other businesses.
And AI can do much more than write books - it can write code, create artworks, write essays and non-fiction articles.   
HERE is a link on how to write a novel using the ChatGPT novel template.
MORE USEFUL LINKS:
https://www.geeky-gadgets.com/how-to-...
https://www.geeksmint.com/ai-tools/

For those who are dead against AI-assisted writing, I'll point out that it covers:
(1) PLOT AND STORY DEVELOPMENT(2) CHARACTERS(3) SETTING
Go on. Take a peek. (I haven't used it yet, but when I get my current 2 novels published without AI's assistance, I will experiment).
AI-assisted writing is only as good as what you feed it. You need to have ideas on the above and ChatGPT will help you refine them. Chat will come up with ideas instantly that would take a human over a week or more.
FULL DISCLOSURE: I have used ChatGPT to help me write blurbs. I suck at writing blubs and need all the  help I can get. Once ChatGPT spits out my blurb, I can use it as a springboard to improvement. I must say, Chat is not perfect - it takes a lot of editing to produce your work.
I'll be interested in what you all have to say. I firmly believe AI will assist writers, not replace them.
But I'm ready for probably the majority of writers who hate the idea.
~*~ 

The awesome co-hosts for the October 4 posting of the IWSG are Natalie Aguirre, Kim Lajevardi, Debs Carey, Gwen Gardner, Patricia Josephine, and Rebecca Douglass!

  Be sure to visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!!! 
~*~

Please join WEP for succulent stories for our October thrill-fest hosted by our very own horror author, Yolanda Renee Stout.

POST October 18 - 20th.

Question is, did I use AI to assist in writing my flash fiction?
Thanks for visiting,

Denise

#IWSG SEPTEMBER 2023

 Hello all!

WEP celebrated it's 10th anniversary in 2020, so that makes us a little 'older' than the IWSG! Quite a milestone for both of our groups in this fast-moving age. 

The awesome co-hosts for the September 6 posting of the IWSG are Sonia Dogra, J Lenni Dorner, Pat Garcia, Sarah - The Faux Fountain Pen, and Meka James!

  Be sure to visit the
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!!!
~*~
Which brings me to the month's question - The IWSG celebrates 12 years today! When did you discover the IWSG, how do you connect, and how has it helped you?


I'm number 8 on the IWSG list and I've always been a strong supporter of the monthly bloghop. Even when traveling overseas, I've usually posted and read posts. Probably missed writing 2 posts in the 12 years. I like the optional question each month which shows how amazing writers are in that each answer is so different.
I read the posts on the IWSG site and the Facebook site. The Facebook site is great for those who no longer/don't blog. I like how it offers promotion and answers questions. So helpful for newbie writers and established writers.
As the founder of WEP, I can't help saying I love that both WEP and the IWSG are writer-focused and offer services to many writers around the globe. WEP offers writing opportunities, while the IWSG offers so many helpful services. Writers help each other. I took note that 3 out of 5 writers helping Alex this month are WEP writers who give generously of their time and talents in so many ways. Belonging to groups like these two help writers feel included in the huge writer-verse. WEP and the IWSG are loosely aligned and I look forward to bigger and better things as we forge ahead into the future. 
Alex helps WEP by promoting our bi-monthly challenges (when we get the copy to him) and some of the IWSG admin are very supportive by writing for us when time permits. Special thanks to our unofficial liaison, C Lee McKenzie. 
Long live blogging and collaborative support!