Cindy Dees's Blog, page 7
October 4, 2017
Take Work Breaks!
Taking breaks to work more…sounds contradictory, but actually isn’t. Studies have shown that if you take a short break, say 5 minutes after every 25 minutes of work, you will have better focus, learn more, get more done, and be able to work longer.
I’ve started using a little phone app that times breaks for me, and it’s amazing the difference it makes. Don’t get me wrong. I can write for three or four hours straight without ever coming up for air. But when I inject little breaks, I can go six or seven hours and get commensurately more work done in a day.
Better, I can work six or seven hours days for several days in a row without completely burning out. Shock.
I figure if we’re going to be slaves to technology anyway, we might as well let it work for us now and then. Oh, and the app I use is called Focus Keeper.
Now, if I could only find a place to buy a working time-turner. Then I’d really be good to go!
September 24, 2017
Harry Potter is coming to Broadway!
Okay. Here’s the skinny before we all geek out hard…
October 1st, tickets for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child go on sale. (link below. Fur realz.) The play opens at the Lyric Theater in New York City on April 22, 2018. The original London cast will come to New York to do the show.
All Jo Rowling will tell us is that the play is about Harry Potter and his son, Albus. The play follows Albus as he heads off to Hogwart’s as the child of a famous wizard and discovers that being the son of the great Harry Potter comes with a bunch of unique problems. People who’ve seen or read the play are ordered to “Keep Calm and Keep the Secrets”, so no spoilers are forthcoming from me!
The play apparently lasts nearly five hours in two sections with an intermission. Ohmigod… I can’t get enough Harry Potter! I would TOTALLY sit through five hours of live Harry Potter, said to come with special effects, too. Squee!
J.K. Rowling vows she won’t be doing any more Harry Potter anything, but come on. If enough of us beg hard enough, surely we can convince her to do just ONE MORE BOOK.
But what book would you ask for? More of Albus’s story? Maybe the stories of Ron and Hermione and their kids? Or maybe Neville and Luna’s story? The return of the Death Eaters for another round of Harry versus Voldemort’s minions?
In the mean time, I’ll see you guys in New York!
September 23, 2017
Farting: The Next Big Turn On?
I was just invited to like a FB page of a person who I shan’t name here (because I’m actually a nicer person than most people think I am). Okay, sometimes I’m nicer.
Anyway, this guy’s job description was “King of Farts.”
Intrigued by that personal branding choice, I scrolled down through his feed to see this cheese cutting master announce that he’d farted seven times in a minute. Dude. What do you EAT?
In another post, our virtuoso vapor launcher announced that he felt a big one coming on. Thank God there was a farting context for that, or I’d have been on my way to report him FB!
But when our trouser trumpeter launched into a detailed description of what it feels like to fart during sex, I have to confess, he lost me.
Don’t get me wrong. I write romance novels, and yes, they do include fully realized sex scenes. But I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that if I wrote my hero cutting loose with a big juicy one that sounds like a whoopee cushion on refried beans, I’d catch a wee bit of hell from my readers.
Shockingly, this fabulously flatulant specimen of male come hitherdom had nothing but young Asian girls as friends on his FB feed. But now, he has apparently turned his miraculous talent to the task of wooing American woman.
So ladies and gents, I ask: do you find the prospect of a prodigious pooter a turn on?
And by the way, in case you need a list of 150 catchy phrases for farting and are feeling a tiny bit juvenile, I give you the definitive list…
September 5, 2017
Observations from DragonCon
1) Cosplay (dressing up like your favorite movie, TV, comic, book, or anime character) was down this year. Way down. In addition, the elaborate professional costumes of past years were practically nonexistent. Whether this was a statement on the economy, the current political atmosphere, or something else, I don't know. But very few people seemed to want to try hard this year at their cosplay. The up side of this: Less truly unfortunate displays of people wearing spandex or fishnet who really, really, should reconsider their fashion choices.
2) Gender bending costuming was everywhere. You haven't lived until you've seen a six-foot-three hairy, bearded, male slave Leia. (As in Princess Leia. Star Wars. Chained to Jabba the Hut.) Female Ironmans, Male Wonder Women, and for some reason, dozens of guys in belly dancing costumes. Did I miss some movement in the belly dancing business to dare men to wear our costumes in public?
3) In past years, hundreds of nubile young ladies ran around mostly naked in slave Leia costumes. I only saw two this year, and one of them was the guy from #2. Saw MANY General Leia Organa's however. (Princess Leia in the last film as a mature woman leading the rebel army.) Clearly an homage to the passing of Carrie Fisher. Classy stuff. Way to go, gamer girls everywhere.
4) While on the subject of gamer girls, I saw no less than a hundred handmaids--women in red, 19th century style dresses with deep, white bonnets that hid their faces. It's a reference to THE HANDMAID'S TALE by Margaret Atwood, a dystopian novel published in 1985, and a chilling read in light of current events in this country. Also a Hulu original TV series seriously worth watching.
5) Went to multiple panels of Big 5 publishing editors. First time I've ever heard editors state outright that they no longer attempt to chase industry trends. Ever since I've been publishing (a long time, now) editors have been known to make pronouncements over what's IN and what's OUT. Things like, "Epic fantasy is dead." "Historical's out." "Vampires are done." "Paranormal is hot."
Not this year. This year, multiple editors said, "The market now moves so fast, and so much of EVERYTHING is available all the time [a clear reference to indy and self publishing], that it's no longer possible to identify and chase trends of any kind in a timely manner."
The obvious follow-up question: what ARE editors looking for?
Answer: Great stories that involve readers, evoke powerful emotions, and tell personal stories with universal appeal.
That's a mouthful to unpack...I'll give you a second to re-read it.
Bottom line: For the first time in my publishing career, I as an author can feel free to write the story of my heart without particularly worrying about the capricious tastes of the publishing industry.
One editor went so far as to suggest we've entered a golden age of publishing where great stories of any kind can and will be embraced. Lord, I hope she's right.
A Few Observations from DragonCon
1) Cosplay (dressing up like your favorite movie, TV, comic, book, or anime character) was down this year. Way down. In addition, the elaborate professional costumes of past years were practically nonexistent. Whether this was a statement on the economy, the current political atmosphere, or something else, I don’t know. But very few people seemed to want to try hard this year at their cosplay. The up side of this: Less truly unfortunate displays of people wearing spandex or fishnet who really, really, should reconsider their fashion choices.
2) Gender bending costuming was everywhere. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a six-foot-three hairy, bearded, male slave Leia. (As in Princess Leia. Star Wars. Chained to Jabba the Hut.) Female Ironmans, Male Wonder Women, and for some reason, dozens of guys in belly dancing costumes. Did I miss some movement in the belly dancing business to dare men to wear our costumes in public?
3) In past years, hundreds of nubile young ladies ran around mostly naked in slave Leia costumes. I only saw two this year, and one of them was the guy from #2. Saw MANY General Leia Organa’s however. (Princess Leia in the last film as a mature woman leading the rebel army.) Clearly an homage to the passing of Carrie Fisher. Classy stuff. Way to go, gamer girls everywhere.
4) While on the subject of gamer girls, I saw no less than a hundred handmaids–women in red, 19th century style dresses with deep, white bonnets that hid their faces. It’s a reference to THE HANDMAID’S TALE by Margaret Atwood, a dystopian novel published in 1985, and a chilling read in light of current events in this country. Also a Hulu original TV series seriously worth watching.
5) Went to multiple panels of Big 5 publishing editors. First time I’ve ever heard editors state outright that they no longer attempt to chase industry trends. Ever since I’ve been publishing (a long time, now) editors have been known to make pronouncements over what’s IN and what’s OUT. Things like, “Epic fantasy is dead.” “Historical’s out.” “Vampires are done.” “Paranormal is hot.”
Not this year. This year, multiple editors said, “The market now moves so fast, and so much of EVERYTHING is available all the time [a clear reference to indy and self publishing], that it’s no longer possible to identify and chase trends of any kind in a timely manner.”
The obvious follow-up question: what ARE editors looking for?
Answer: Great stories that involve readers, evoke powerful emotions, and tell personal stories with universal appeal.
That’s a mouthful to unpack…I’ll give you a second to re-read it.
Bottom line: For the first time in my publishing career, I as an author can feel free to write the story of my heart without particularly worrying about the capricious tastes of the publishing industry.
One editor went so far as to suggest we’ve entered a golden age of publishing where great stories of any kind can and will be embraced. Lord, I hope she’s right.
July 31, 2017
RWA 2017 Re-cap
A few random impressions:
-Florida is moist. Very moist. I hate the word moist.
-The romance industry is thriving, but in different ways than in the past.
-God did not intend for humans to live in Florida. That’s why he put alligators there, for crying out loud. Catch a clue, people.
-Women authors continue to be supportive of one another and pay their success forward in the most generous fashion.
-I will listen to Damon Suede talk about writing any time, any place. That man is a genius.
-Perhaps I shouldn’t judge Florida as a place to live at the end of July. I should probably go back in January. To Disney World. For a week.
-Networking works. Several incredible, amazing, unbelievable career opportunities dropped into my lap from chance encounters. Hmm. Maybe they weren’t so chance, after all.
-I had a great idea to try to meet everyone at RWA who had purple hair. Met some incredibly cool people. Must do that again next year.
-In a profession that’s often isolating, frustrating, solitary, and should crushing, getting together with other writers to talk, complain, support, and encourage each other is a gift without price. If you’re a writer, make sure to find other writers to hang out with from time to time.
-am exhausted and experiencing conference coma, but I can’t wait for RWA 2018 already. And thank God, it’s in Denver next year.
Thoughts from RWA 2017
A few random impressions:
-Florida is moist. Very moist. I hate the word moist.
-The romance industry is thriving, but in different ways than in the past.
-God did not intend for humans to live in Florida. That's why he put alligators there, for crying out loud. Catch a clue, people.
-Women authors continue to be supportive of one another and pay their success forward in the most generous fashion.
-I will listen to Damon Suede talk about writing any time, any place. That man is a genius.
-Perhaps I shouldn't judge Florida as a place to live at the end of July. I should probably go back in January. To Disney World. For a week.
-Networking works. Several incredible, amazing, unbelievable career opportunities dropped into my lap from chance encounters. Hmm. Maybe they weren't so chance, after all.
-I had a great idea to try to meet everyone at RWA who had purple hair. Met some incredibly cool people. Must do that again next year.
-In a profession that's often isolating, frustrating, solitary, and should crushing, getting together with other writers to talk, complain, support, and encourage each other is a gift without price. If you're a writer, make sure to find other writers to hang out with from time to time.
-am exhausted and experiencing conference coma, but I can't wait for RWA 2018 already. And thank God, it's in Denver next year.
June 20, 2017
The Wandering War Excerpt is posted
It started with a prickle down Hemlocke’s spine. Nothing much, but enough to cause the faintest spark of awareness in her sleeping mind. Something was not right.
Out of all her kind, she was the one who’d been created and empowered to act as a sentinel, exquisitely sensitive to the continent the humans called Haelos and to all its living creatures, aware even in the deepest of restorative slumbers when a threat stirred.
Slowly, slowly, blood began to seep through her veins, bringing a hint of warmth to her curled body and the beginning of thought to her dreamless mind. She’d been asleep a long time in her dark, watery lair. Her injuries at the hands of the Kothite invaders had been serious, and full healing could be measured in centuries. Her body might be nearly whole, but her spirit was still weak.
Not so weak, though, that she could not protect Haelos from its enemies. She waited patiently for her mind to come to sharp alertness, her claws to regain their deadly strength, her massive, scaled body to come to a fully active state, her great wings to unfurl. And when they did . . .
Then she would fly.
* * *
“Madness! Unthinkable! Absolutely not!”
Raina gazed sympathetically at the sputtering Heart patriarch and his equally agitated fellow matriarchs and patriarchs. Outrageous though it surely was, nonetheless, she had been raised to the rank of emissary in the White Heart by Lord Goldeneye, leader of the great Dominion colony of changelings in the north of Haelos. He had no authority to do so, of course, but that had not stopped him.
High Matriarch Lenora had called this conclave of Heart leaders from across the settled lands of Haelos to discuss the matter, but the truth of it was that, no matter how much they blustered, their hands were tied. They needed the entrée to the heretofore impenetrable Dominion; hence they had no choice but to recognize her rank in the offshoot branch of the healer’s guild, no matter how unorthodox it might be.
“She’s a child!” a matriarch down the table spat in disgust. “The girl’s hardly fit to be a White Heart initiate, let alone an emissary equal in rank to one of us.”
The girl was sitting right here, hearing every word of their tirade. And she’d done a decent job of being a White Heart initiate, thank you very much. It hadn’t always been easy, by the Lady. Even if she wouldn’t be eighteen until springtime, age was not only measured in years but also in experience.
The Heart had three branches. The regular Heart to which most healers belonged. Then there was the White Heart, the pacifist branch of healers sworn to defend all life, to which Raina belonged, for better or worse. Lastly, there was the Royal Order of the Sun, the militaristic arm of the Heart, responsible for defending Heart chapters, their members, and the all-important resurrection Heartstones.
To Raina’s vast relief, the Royal Order also took responsibility for protecting White Heart members from harm, since she and her brethren were unable to protect themselves. Most of the Dominion’s warriors had expressed a strong desire to kill her for being weak and spineless during her recent stint as a prisoner of that aggressive changeling army. They’d taught her to be abjectly grateful for the swords and shields that had hovered over her protectively since her return to Dupree.
At tonight’s meeting, the Royal Order of the Sun was represented by Lord Justinius, knight commander of the entire order in Haelos. So far, he’d sat tense and taciturn at Lenora’s right hand and not participated in the discussion. Raina suspected he saw the strategic necessity of letting her new rank stand and furthermore saw the advantage of finally having an emissary to the Dominion, her tender age notwithstanding.
Lenora patiently let the matriarchs and patriarchs bellyache their fill, which took a while. Raina had taken just about as many insults to her age, intelligence, training, and skills as she could tolerate before their complaints finally wound down to a trickle and then ceased.
The high matriarch said with admirable calm from beside Raina, “Thank you for your comments. I appreciate your candor, but here’s the thing. Never in the history of the Heart has any Dominion settlement, anywhere, allowed a member of the Heart to act as an envoy to it. We simply cannot turn down this opportunity.”
“Agreed!” the sputtering patriarch from before exclaimed. “Let us send a more seasoned Heart member to Goldeneye with all due haste.”
It was all Raina could do not to call him a fool for even suggesting such a thing. Lord Goldeneye would not stand for a substitute. They would be lucky to get their replacement emissary back alive, let alone with his or her mind intact.
She opened her mouth to tell the man so, but Lord Justinius sent her a brief, quelling look and a small shake of his head.
The big knight leaned forward ponderously, leather gambeson creaking under his chain mail, to weigh in at last. “Ladies and gentlemen. We are in full agreement that we have been presented with a rare opportunity, and we cannot turn away from it. However, I have met Lord Goldeneye, and he is not the sort to be trifled with. If this young lady is the one he chose, I guarantee you, he will accept no other. I shall send one of my most experienced knights to guard her, and he will be fully capable of advising her should she need guidance.”
She studied Justinius while the others buzzed and Lenora tried unsuccessfully to quiet them. What was his game? Did Lord Justinius wish merely to plant an observer in his enemy’s stronghold, perhaps co-opting control of her mission for his order?
Or did he aim higher? Did he dare hope for a rapprochement between the Royal Order of the Sun and the Dominion itself? The idea skirted perilously near treason. The Dominion’s leaders openly declared themselves sworn enemies of Koth, nearly as openly as they declared their intent to conquer all the lands of Urth for themselves.
“The enemy of my enemy?” she murmured under the hubbub for Justinius’s ears only.
“Silence!” he hissed in alarm.
Lord Justinius didn’t deny her implication. But he did push abruptly to his feet, towering over them all in his armor and weapons while she stared at him in shock.
The others fell mostly silent, and his voice cut across the last few protests. “It is settled. I will send Sir Lakanos to Dupree to accompany her. He is a skilled warrior who will earn the respect of the Dominion and is subtle enough to help Raina manage the nuances of this assignment. When do you leave for the Great Den, Emissary?”
“Lord Goldeneye told me to return in the summer.”
“Very well. When the days lengthen and the wheat ripens, look for my knight.”
She bowed her head respectfully. “Yes, my lord.”
The Dreaming Hunt Excerpt is posted
He was a fraud. Even his name, Will Cobb, was a lie. If any of the soldiers lounging around the common room knew who he really was, they’d arrest him in a heartbeat and put him to permanent death…or worse. Why hadn’t his father or grandfather warned him that hiding in plain sight from the Empire would turn out to be such a nerve-wracking business?
He might feel safer if his friends were aware of his deception. But for their protection he had to keep up the charade even for them. It was exhausting. It was also becoming increasingly dangerous. He’d caught other people’s attention, now. Powerful people. Some of who would, without hesitation, destroy him and his companions to prevent them from succeeding in their quest.
Will glared around the common room of the Heart building out of general principles. He did not like tonight’s business in the healer’s guild, and he made no effort to hide his distaste for the proceedings. But desperate times called for desperate action.
Their nemesis, the deposed governor, Anton Constantine, was on the loose and would do everything in his power to take revenge against them. Not only had they been instrumental in ousting Anton, but they’d stolen the treasure the greedy noble coveted above all else right out from under his nose. For that, he would pursue them to the ends of Urth and obliterate them.
Anton thought they’d found gold. But they’d found something much more valuable—memory of a legendary king who could stand against the ex-governor’s precious Kothite Empire. Of course, Will and his companions still had to find a way to wake the sleeping king before Anton destroyed the king’s memory. Or them.
It wasn’t that he worried for himself, even though he was no doubt Anton’s main target. But Rosana…he worried about her.
He was still furious with the gypsy healer for giving up a piece of her spirit to save his life in their desperate flight from the Sleeping King’s lair. She knew to keep her spirit firmly where it belonged and not to tempt fate by ripping out part of hers and using it in a manner for which it was never intended.
Not that he was in any position to cast stones at her for doing the unnatural. He fingered the thumb-sized wooden disk grown firmly onto his chest. No sane person voluntarily carried around a tree spirit inside himself, either. Of course, he was grateful to Rosana for her sacrifice. She’d stabilized the unnatural union of his spirit with Lord Bloodroot’s. Which was a boon. For weeks before her stunt, he had hovered on the ragged edge of death.
Now that he was not continuously nauseated and violently ill, High Matriarch Lenora wanted to attempt a ritual to transfer the shard of Rosana’s spirit from him back into the gypsy girl where it belonged. He was all for the transfer. But he could not help being suspicious of the whole business of high magic. Forest bred and humbly raised, these fancy magics were foreign to him. They smacked of the Empire with all of its wealth and power. Or mayhap that was Bloodroot speaking. It was becoming increasingly difficult to separate his thoughts and feelings from those of the irascible treant.
Torches guttered in their sconces every time the Heart building’s door opened, casting hellish light into the corners of the wide, low-ceilinged common room. Two burly Royal Order of the Sun guardians—charged with defending the Heart, its healers, and most importantly, its resurrection heartstones—stood guard while High Matriarch Lenora painstakingly laid out five large, overlapping circles of colored silk rope upon the floor. The braided ropes were marked with intricate signs that helped shape and focus the powerful magical energies summoned in rituals. Each circle would call and contain a particular flavor of magic. As the high matriarch wasn’t entirely certain what she was doing this night, she was calling upon many types of magic all at once.
Which was not reassuring. The whole notion of “exploring” a way to restore Rosana’s spirit made him twitchy. A ritual like this had never been attempted and no scroll of instruction existed for such a thing. Lenora was making it up as she went. Which likely passed beyond desperate into foolhardy.
At least Raina was going to be present in case things did not go well. Another member of their little party of adventurers, she’d sought the Sleeping King for reasons of her own. Her magical skills were considerable. She was an arch-mage in the making and could heal a small village singlehandedly. He had faith, given the sheer volume of magic she could summon, that Raina would keep them all alive through this ritual.
Still, his gut rumbled that the whole thing was a load of glittering unicorn dung. He was half-tempted to storm out and leave them to their smoky mirrors and useless spells. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in magic. By the Void, he was rapidly becoming a formidable caster, himself.
It did not alleviate his doubts and concerns one bit that Mage’s Guildmaster Aurelius, himself, had come out of his hallowed guildhall to consult with Lenora over the particulars of casting tonight’s ritual.
Bloodroot had been able to take the piece of Rosana’s spirit without any fancy rituals. Surely, the tree lord could give it back if he so chose. And the whoreson had better so choose if he and Will no longer had need of Rosana’s spirit to stay alive. Gruff humor rumbled somewhere deep in his belly. Will cursed back at the treant silently.
He should take Bloodroot back to the Forest of Thorns from whence he came and get rid of him once and for all. Of course, there was the small problem of the enraged tribe of orcs who called the Forest of Thorns home. The Boki. Will-self’s lip curled in hatred of the cursed orcs who’d murdered his parents. But the other self trapped within him, the Bloodroot-self, reacted fondly to thought of the Boki, who revered him. Bah. Orc scum.
Lord Bloodroot was one of the thirteen tree lords of the Great Circle. Or at least he had been until the other tree lords turned on him and hacked his tree to bits. Bloodroot’s spirit, housed in one of those bits of the great bloodthorn tree’s heartwood, had nearly killed Will before Rosana pulled her healing trick a few weeks back.
Will glanced over fondly at the gypsy where she conversed in whispers with Raina. The two healers had grown close in their mutual efforts to keep him alive while they completed their quest. They’d found King Gawaine, or at least a dreaming echo of him, not surprisingly in the Realm of Dreams. Will was still not entirely clear on how extra-planar spaces existed, but he’d seen the evidence of one such place with his own eyes.
Apparently, he and his companions now needed to find the Sleeping King’s regalia and his physical body on this plane if they were to actually wake him. But those problems could wait for another day. First, they had to get Rosana’s spirit back where it belonged.
Raina’s blond hair shone pale in contrast to the gleaming sable of Rosana’s as they giggled at some joke. As if the gypsy felt his gaze upon her, Rosana looked up just then and smiled at him, her big, dark eyes worried. His irritation softened somewhat. If this cursed ritual would fix her, he would play nice and cooperate. And if it made her smile at him, all the better.
Rosana stepped wide around the ritual circles and rested her hand surreptitiously upon his forearm. Warmth and a feeling of rightness spread through him at her simple touch.
She murmured, “How do you feel, today?”
“Fine. Whatever healing you did to me in that cave holds steady.”
“You will tell me immediately if you begin to weaken or sicken again, yes?”
That must be at least the hundredth time she’d said that exact same thing to him. “Of course. I’m an open book to you, sweet gypsy rose.”
She gave his shoulder a playful swat. “On the verge of a deadly ritual and still you flirt with me? You’re incorrigible, Will Cobb.”
“Only with you, Rosie.”
She smiled up at him, a warm sparkle in her gaze. “What am I to do with you?”
“Love me always and never leave me.”
“Always and never,” she whispered back.
Her characterization of the forthcoming magic belatedly struck him. “Exactly how deadly is yon ritual?” he demanded abruptly.
She shrugged, but a shadow passed through her eyes. “Well, of course, there’s always a small risk of a flaw in the outcome. Or…” she trailed off.
“Or what?” he demanded.
“Or a backlash,” she mumbled.
June 19, 2017
Release Date Announced for THE WANDERING WAR
I’m excited to announce the release date for the third and final novel in the SLEEPING KING epic fantasy trilogy. Mark your calendar for January 30, 2018…or you can pre-order it now so you don’t miss it! Here are pre-order/buy buttons for all your favorite book buying platforms:
