Angie Thompson's Blog, page 5
September 22, 2018
New Short Short Story
I came across this picture as a prompt for a short story contest, and my storyteller senses latched onto it immediately. The result was a a bit too late and much too short for the contest, but I wanted to share it anyway. I'd love to hear what you guys think. :)
The Promise
“Cass?”
Her brother’s tone was insistent and protective in spite of its slight hesitation. The sound sent a shiver down Cassidy’s spine, and she fixed her eyes on the bouquet in her hand. The plastic stems and tiny silk tufts of baby’s breath steadied her, recalling her conversation with Gilbert.
“Fake flowers, Cassie? You don’t see our love that way, do you?”
Her heart had hurt at the wistful sound in his tone, and she’d given him her most confident smile with her answer.
“Sure I do. Real flowers wilt, you know. These will stay forever.”
“Cass, honey.” Derek had let himself into the room and stood behind her. Cassidy didn’t turn. “Cass.” The plea was a whisper, and Derek’s arms came around her.
Cassidy wanted to let herself sink against the heavy fabric of his dress blues, to cry out the fear and anguish that the last few hours had brought to the boiling point. But she couldn’t. He’d see it as an admission of doubt. She remained stiff in his arms.
“Come on, honey.” Derek’s voice was soft and coaxing in her ear. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go to dinner. Go to a movie. Or just go home. You can curl up on the couch and cry all over my shirt. Okay?”
Cassidy shook her head stiffly. The threat of tears was too real to make an answer.
“We can’t stay here all night, Cass. Everyone’s gone except the pastor and the ladies who are cleaning up.” His arms tightened around her as he spoke the words she dreaded. “Honey, he’s not coming.”
“You don’t know him, Derek.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.
“I’ve known him longer than you have, honey.” Derek’s tone had acquired a trace of steel. He let go of her shoulders and moved in front of her, tipping her chin up to face him. “A ring on your finger is no guarantee from Gilbert Roth. I warned you a long time ago.”
“He’s changed.”
“He must have told a hundred girls he’d changed, Cass. Greener pastures--always greener pastures. And he’s a coward. Always has been, even if he covers it with his smooth talk. I’d track him down and break his nose if I thought it’d do any good.”
“It’s not like that, Derek. I remember him in high school. I’m sure he was worse in college. But he’s a Christian now. You don’t understand—can’t understand—how that changes a person.”
Cassidy’s heart throbbed for a moment with a deeper, more familiar pain. If only Derek could accept the new life, the real change that came from knowing Jesus. She’d hoped Gilbert might show him. He’d been so different this last year while Derek had been deployed. But now—
The muscles in Derek’s jaw tightened.
“I understand that it gives him a brand-new crop of innocent, trusting hearts to break. And when he comes back ‘repentant,’ some other girl’ll be right there waiting to give him another chance. He’s playing you all.”
“He’s different.” The plastic flower stems trembled in her hand, and she tightened her grasp.
Derek sighed, and his shoulders slumped, then he straightened and gently grasped her arms.
“You need to let it go. He’s not coming. Cry, scream—I don’t care. Just let your heart break now, not one tiny piece at a time when it’s been days and weeks and months and he’s still not here.”
Cassidy’s eyes closed, and a single tear escaped the tightly-woven lashes. Derek pulled her head to his shoulder, and she trembled with the effort it took to keep more tears from following the first.
“Come on, Cass.” Derek’s tone was soft, hopeful, tender. “Let’s go home.”
Her iron rod of resolve was weakening fast. If Derek had known it, he would have lifted her in his arms and carried her out the door, severing it completely.
“He’ll be here.”
Derek sighed.
“It’s almost seven o’clock. They have to shut up the church. You can’t stay here all night.”
“He’ll be here.” It was all she had left.
The rod had worn down to the width of a wire, and she could feel it bending with the weight of her own emotions and the pressure of Derek’s hands on her back. She hoped her brother didn’t sense it; two more loving words from him might snap it. She hoped Gilbert would never know how low her faith had ebbed.
Please, God, help me stand.
“Cass—” Derek’s plea was interrupted by the banging of a door in the distance and a startled hum of voices from the other side of the wall. Cassidy moved toward the sound, and Derek followed with a sigh of relief.
The fellowship hall had been stripped of nearly all its festive color. The tables were stacked against one wall; the chairs sat in rows, ready for Sunday school. A handful of ladies stood wide-eyed and whispering in the corner. And near the door, leaning against the wall and moving slowly toward her—
“Gil!” Cassidy ran to the disheveled figure and clasped him in her arms, regardless of the bouquet in her hands or the pristine condition of her dress.
“Cassie. Cassie, I’m so sorry.” Gilbert’s voice was hoarse and choked, and his broad shoulders trembled in her grasp. Cassidy stepped back and swiftly took in the gauze that covered his hands and forehead, the smell of smoke that clung thickly around him, the torn and soot-streaked state of the rented tuxedo.
“Gil, sit down.” She caught the leg of a nearby chair with her foot and drew it forward, pressing Gilbert into it. It settled on top of her long skirt, pinning her to his side, and she made no effort to free herself. Gilbert doubled over, coughing violently, and she reached a hand up to rub his arm and shoulder.
“Cassie—so sorry,” he repeated between spasms. Someone pressed a glass of water into her hand, and she held it carefully to Gilbert’s lips, watching with relief as his breathing eased. He raised his eyes to meet hers, full of pain and anguish.
“I know what—what they must’ve said—what you must’ve thought.”
“Look at me, Gil.” Cassidy edged back as far as the chair’s hold would permit and spread her skirt in a cloud around her. Picking up the bouquet that had fallen from her hand, she laid it in his lap. “Look at me. I’m still here. Still dressed. Still waiting. You promised, and you came. That’s all that matters.”
“Cassie.” Gilbert’s voice broke on the word, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close again.
“Forgive me, ma'am.”
Cassidy turned her head toward the strange voice without loosening her hold.
“I’m afraid it’s ruined your day, and I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t—can’t entirely regret it. He saved my son’s life.”
Cassidy laid her head down on Gilbert’s shoulder, unable to speak.
“What happened?” Derek spoke for the first time since they’d left her room.
“House caught fire. Wife and I weren’t there. Babysitter got the two oldest out, but my little boy was asleep upstairs. He was driving along the road, saw the smoke, flames. Somehow got in and got to him. Part of the roof fell in, but he shielded my boy with his own body, and by then, the firemen were there. Got them both out.”
Gilbert’s shoulders shuddered slightly, and Cassidy rubbed gentle circles into them with her palms.
“When was this?” Derek’s tone was unreadable.
“Around ten this morning. Live about fifteen minutes this side of Redmond. They took him to the hospital, patched him up, but he wouldn’t stay after he could stand on his own feet, and they couldn’t keep him. Seemed like he shouldn’t be driving, so I brought him along. Least I could do—after everything he did.”
Derek was silent, and Cassidy’s heart glowed with joy. Even her brother couldn’t argue the fact that Gilbert had been on his way to the church after picking up his tuxedo in Redmond. And his reputation as a coward—surely no one would ever dare call him that again.
Praise God, she hadn’t given in. Gilbert was worth all her trust and more.
Derek’s hand settled on her shoulder.
“Best get him back to a hospital, Cass. Smoke inhalation’s nothing to play around with.”
Cassidy nodded and raised her head, running a hand through Gilbert’s soot-blackened hair.
“Is Pastor Blake still here?”
“Right here, Cassidy.” He must have left his office to investigate the noise.
“Will you marry us, Pastor? Now?”
“Cassie.” Gilbert’s hoarse voice pulled her eyes back to his face. “This isn’t how I wanted it. You should have—your dream wedding. The flowers. The guests. Not like—like this.”
“Are you backing out of marrying my sister, Roth?” Derek's eyes narrowed, but there was an unexpected gentleness in his tone. Gilbert straightened.
“No. Never. I—”
“It’s not the flowers and the guests I want, Gil,” Cassidy interrupted before he could wear himself out with protests. “It’s you. Marry me. Today. Now. Just like we planned.”
Gilbert struggled to his feet and balanced himself with one hand on the back of a chair.
“I’d marry you anywhere—any time, Cassie Gray. And don’t you—forget it.”
Pastor Blake came to stand in front of them. Derek took hold of Cassidy’s hand and placed it carefully on top of Gilbert’s bandaged one, just as he would have in the formal ceremony. Before stepping back, he leaned close to her ear.
“You were right on this one, Cass. I’ll watch and see about the rest.”
“Your blessing?” Cassidy tilted her head to look into her brother’s eyes. He shook his head slowly, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You and Gilbert Roth. Never thought I’d see the day.” Leaning over again, he kissed her hair and nodded. “My blessing, Cass. You’ve got it.”
The Promise
“Cass?”
Her brother’s tone was insistent and protective in spite of its slight hesitation. The sound sent a shiver down Cassidy’s spine, and she fixed her eyes on the bouquet in her hand. The plastic stems and tiny silk tufts of baby’s breath steadied her, recalling her conversation with Gilbert.
“Fake flowers, Cassie? You don’t see our love that way, do you?”
Her heart had hurt at the wistful sound in his tone, and she’d given him her most confident smile with her answer.
“Sure I do. Real flowers wilt, you know. These will stay forever.”
“Cass, honey.” Derek had let himself into the room and stood behind her. Cassidy didn’t turn. “Cass.” The plea was a whisper, and Derek’s arms came around her.
Cassidy wanted to let herself sink against the heavy fabric of his dress blues, to cry out the fear and anguish that the last few hours had brought to the boiling point. But she couldn’t. He’d see it as an admission of doubt. She remained stiff in his arms.
“Come on, honey.” Derek’s voice was soft and coaxing in her ear. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go to dinner. Go to a movie. Or just go home. You can curl up on the couch and cry all over my shirt. Okay?”
Cassidy shook her head stiffly. The threat of tears was too real to make an answer.
“We can’t stay here all night, Cass. Everyone’s gone except the pastor and the ladies who are cleaning up.” His arms tightened around her as he spoke the words she dreaded. “Honey, he’s not coming.”
“You don’t know him, Derek.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.
“I’ve known him longer than you have, honey.” Derek’s tone had acquired a trace of steel. He let go of her shoulders and moved in front of her, tipping her chin up to face him. “A ring on your finger is no guarantee from Gilbert Roth. I warned you a long time ago.”
“He’s changed.”
“He must have told a hundred girls he’d changed, Cass. Greener pastures--always greener pastures. And he’s a coward. Always has been, even if he covers it with his smooth talk. I’d track him down and break his nose if I thought it’d do any good.”
“It’s not like that, Derek. I remember him in high school. I’m sure he was worse in college. But he’s a Christian now. You don’t understand—can’t understand—how that changes a person.”
Cassidy’s heart throbbed for a moment with a deeper, more familiar pain. If only Derek could accept the new life, the real change that came from knowing Jesus. She’d hoped Gilbert might show him. He’d been so different this last year while Derek had been deployed. But now—
The muscles in Derek’s jaw tightened.
“I understand that it gives him a brand-new crop of innocent, trusting hearts to break. And when he comes back ‘repentant,’ some other girl’ll be right there waiting to give him another chance. He’s playing you all.”
“He’s different.” The plastic flower stems trembled in her hand, and she tightened her grasp.
Derek sighed, and his shoulders slumped, then he straightened and gently grasped her arms.
“You need to let it go. He’s not coming. Cry, scream—I don’t care. Just let your heart break now, not one tiny piece at a time when it’s been days and weeks and months and he’s still not here.”
Cassidy’s eyes closed, and a single tear escaped the tightly-woven lashes. Derek pulled her head to his shoulder, and she trembled with the effort it took to keep more tears from following the first.
“Come on, Cass.” Derek’s tone was soft, hopeful, tender. “Let’s go home.”
Her iron rod of resolve was weakening fast. If Derek had known it, he would have lifted her in his arms and carried her out the door, severing it completely.
“He’ll be here.”
Derek sighed.
“It’s almost seven o’clock. They have to shut up the church. You can’t stay here all night.”
“He’ll be here.” It was all she had left.
The rod had worn down to the width of a wire, and she could feel it bending with the weight of her own emotions and the pressure of Derek’s hands on her back. She hoped her brother didn’t sense it; two more loving words from him might snap it. She hoped Gilbert would never know how low her faith had ebbed.
Please, God, help me stand.
“Cass—” Derek’s plea was interrupted by the banging of a door in the distance and a startled hum of voices from the other side of the wall. Cassidy moved toward the sound, and Derek followed with a sigh of relief.
The fellowship hall had been stripped of nearly all its festive color. The tables were stacked against one wall; the chairs sat in rows, ready for Sunday school. A handful of ladies stood wide-eyed and whispering in the corner. And near the door, leaning against the wall and moving slowly toward her—
“Gil!” Cassidy ran to the disheveled figure and clasped him in her arms, regardless of the bouquet in her hands or the pristine condition of her dress.
“Cassie. Cassie, I’m so sorry.” Gilbert’s voice was hoarse and choked, and his broad shoulders trembled in her grasp. Cassidy stepped back and swiftly took in the gauze that covered his hands and forehead, the smell of smoke that clung thickly around him, the torn and soot-streaked state of the rented tuxedo.
“Gil, sit down.” She caught the leg of a nearby chair with her foot and drew it forward, pressing Gilbert into it. It settled on top of her long skirt, pinning her to his side, and she made no effort to free herself. Gilbert doubled over, coughing violently, and she reached a hand up to rub his arm and shoulder.
“Cassie—so sorry,” he repeated between spasms. Someone pressed a glass of water into her hand, and she held it carefully to Gilbert’s lips, watching with relief as his breathing eased. He raised his eyes to meet hers, full of pain and anguish.
“I know what—what they must’ve said—what you must’ve thought.”
“Look at me, Gil.” Cassidy edged back as far as the chair’s hold would permit and spread her skirt in a cloud around her. Picking up the bouquet that had fallen from her hand, she laid it in his lap. “Look at me. I’m still here. Still dressed. Still waiting. You promised, and you came. That’s all that matters.”
“Cassie.” Gilbert’s voice broke on the word, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close again.
“Forgive me, ma'am.”
Cassidy turned her head toward the strange voice without loosening her hold.
“I’m afraid it’s ruined your day, and I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t—can’t entirely regret it. He saved my son’s life.”
Cassidy laid her head down on Gilbert’s shoulder, unable to speak.
“What happened?” Derek spoke for the first time since they’d left her room.
“House caught fire. Wife and I weren’t there. Babysitter got the two oldest out, but my little boy was asleep upstairs. He was driving along the road, saw the smoke, flames. Somehow got in and got to him. Part of the roof fell in, but he shielded my boy with his own body, and by then, the firemen were there. Got them both out.”
Gilbert’s shoulders shuddered slightly, and Cassidy rubbed gentle circles into them with her palms.
“When was this?” Derek’s tone was unreadable.
“Around ten this morning. Live about fifteen minutes this side of Redmond. They took him to the hospital, patched him up, but he wouldn’t stay after he could stand on his own feet, and they couldn’t keep him. Seemed like he shouldn’t be driving, so I brought him along. Least I could do—after everything he did.”
Derek was silent, and Cassidy’s heart glowed with joy. Even her brother couldn’t argue the fact that Gilbert had been on his way to the church after picking up his tuxedo in Redmond. And his reputation as a coward—surely no one would ever dare call him that again.
Praise God, she hadn’t given in. Gilbert was worth all her trust and more.
Derek’s hand settled on her shoulder.
“Best get him back to a hospital, Cass. Smoke inhalation’s nothing to play around with.”
Cassidy nodded and raised her head, running a hand through Gilbert’s soot-blackened hair.
“Is Pastor Blake still here?”
“Right here, Cassidy.” He must have left his office to investigate the noise.
“Will you marry us, Pastor? Now?”
“Cassie.” Gilbert’s hoarse voice pulled her eyes back to his face. “This isn’t how I wanted it. You should have—your dream wedding. The flowers. The guests. Not like—like this.”
“Are you backing out of marrying my sister, Roth?” Derek's eyes narrowed, but there was an unexpected gentleness in his tone. Gilbert straightened.
“No. Never. I—”
“It’s not the flowers and the guests I want, Gil,” Cassidy interrupted before he could wear himself out with protests. “It’s you. Marry me. Today. Now. Just like we planned.”
Gilbert struggled to his feet and balanced himself with one hand on the back of a chair.
“I’d marry you anywhere—any time, Cassie Gray. And don’t you—forget it.”
Pastor Blake came to stand in front of them. Derek took hold of Cassidy’s hand and placed it carefully on top of Gilbert’s bandaged one, just as he would have in the formal ceremony. Before stepping back, he leaned close to her ear.
“You were right on this one, Cass. I’ll watch and see about the rest.”
“Your blessing?” Cassidy tilted her head to look into her brother’s eyes. He shook his head slowly, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You and Gilbert Roth. Never thought I’d see the day.” Leaning over again, he kissed her hair and nodded. “My blessing, Cass. You’ve got it.”
August 7, 2018
Another New Story
Yep, I finally bit the bullet and published the second short story I wrote in April for Indie E-Con! All the feedback I've gotten so far has confirmed my original impression that the story is better with the additional scene at the end (which I didn't write at first because of length restrictions), so that's how I published it. I admit, I like it much better this way, too! Along with that, I've added a few extras back into some of the scenes that I originally had to cut for length. Contests are fun and inspiring, but length limits--don't get me started!
Code is actually my favorite of the two stories I wrote for this contest, despite the fact that Love Blind beat it out. Romance was a bit out of my comfort zone, but sibling stories--that's my thing! ;)
Just to pique your curiosity, the prompt for this one was, "She wanted to hate him, but she couldn't stop thinking about the rose he left on her doorstep.--Not to be written as a romance". How did I turn a romance prompt into a slightly futuristic sibling story? I'm not telling; you'll have to read it! (Yep, I'm both mean and cliche. :P)
You can find Code at various ebook retailers here. If you don't see your favorite store, check back; the list is growing as we speak... (Or I hope it is--are you listening, retailers?) And if you're interested in a free copy for review, feel free to message me; I'm pretty sure I have some extra epub and mobi files lying around. :D
Hope you all have a great day!
Code is actually my favorite of the two stories I wrote for this contest, despite the fact that Love Blind beat it out. Romance was a bit out of my comfort zone, but sibling stories--that's my thing! ;)
Just to pique your curiosity, the prompt for this one was, "She wanted to hate him, but she couldn't stop thinking about the rose he left on her doorstep.--Not to be written as a romance". How did I turn a romance prompt into a slightly futuristic sibling story? I'm not telling; you'll have to read it! (Yep, I'm both mean and cliche. :P)
You can find Code at various ebook retailers here. If you don't see your favorite store, check back; the list is growing as we speak... (Or I hope it is--are you listening, retailers?) And if you're interested in a free copy for review, feel free to message me; I'm pretty sure I have some extra epub and mobi files lying around. :D
Hope you all have a great day!
July 7, 2018
New Short Story
Well, I've been trying to hold off because it's not yet available on Amazon, but I can't wait any longer!
I'm (very) excited to announce that my new short story, Love Blind, is now available at most of the major ebook retailers! <3 Amazon is the last big one I'm waiting on; still hoping that will go through soon!
The even better news--it's free! Not for a limited time only, but forever; for all people; for truth, justice, and--wait, I'm slipping back into 4th of July mode. But silliness aside, I am making it permafree (although I fully expect that process to take a little while on Amazon).
So what's the story? Well, I'll let you check it out for yourselves, but the inspiration came from one of Kendra's great prompts for this year's Indie E-Con Writing Contest. Who knew that my random musings on "The three drops of dried blood told him everything he needed to know.--not to be written as a mystery" would end up winning the contest, earning some fabulous prizes, and giving me the confidence that maybe there really was something there, even if it wasn't my normal genre? (Full disclosure--I've never written a straight-up romance before.)
Here's the link if you'd like to check it out. Or as my dad would point out, the link is here whether you want to check it out or not. ;) Clicking on it should give you your choice of store--hoping Amazon will be there soon! In the meantime, if you're a Kindle owner and would like a mobi file, feel free to message me. :D And of course, if you do check it out, I'd love to hear what you think!
P.S.--I also hope to publish my other contest short story soon; I'm mainly still trying to decide if it's a good or a bad idea to add in the epilogue I've been working on. If anyone out there likes weighing in on that sort of thing, let me know! I'd be happy topester you get your feedback on which is the better ending. ;)
Thanks for stopping by, and thanks for reading!
I'm (very) excited to announce that my new short story, Love Blind, is now available at most of the major ebook retailers! <3 Amazon is the last big one I'm waiting on; still hoping that will go through soon!
The even better news--it's free! Not for a limited time only, but forever; for all people; for truth, justice, and--wait, I'm slipping back into 4th of July mode. But silliness aside, I am making it permafree (although I fully expect that process to take a little while on Amazon).
So what's the story? Well, I'll let you check it out for yourselves, but the inspiration came from one of Kendra's great prompts for this year's Indie E-Con Writing Contest. Who knew that my random musings on "The three drops of dried blood told him everything he needed to know.--not to be written as a mystery" would end up winning the contest, earning some fabulous prizes, and giving me the confidence that maybe there really was something there, even if it wasn't my normal genre? (Full disclosure--I've never written a straight-up romance before.)
Here's the link if you'd like to check it out. Or as my dad would point out, the link is here whether you want to check it out or not. ;) Clicking on it should give you your choice of store--hoping Amazon will be there soon! In the meantime, if you're a Kindle owner and would like a mobi file, feel free to message me. :D And of course, if you do check it out, I'd love to hear what you think!
P.S.--I also hope to publish my other contest short story soon; I'm mainly still trying to decide if it's a good or a bad idea to add in the epilogue I've been working on. If anyone out there likes weighing in on that sort of thing, let me know! I'd be happy to
Thanks for stopping by, and thanks for reading!
May 24, 2018
Handling Technology in Contemporary
And welcome back to Indie E-Con! If you haven't checked it out yet, it's been awesome! So many wonderful books, so much great advice, so many games and contests that I have no time to play... *sigh*
Voting for the book awards is still open, and I'm sure any of the authors involved would appreciate your support!
But on to the topic of the day--contemporary fiction. Stop by the main event to get my post on writing a modernized retelling. But in the meantime...
Technology is a tricky thing. On the one hand, it can help to ground your characters in modern-day reality. On the other hand, it can leave your story feeling incredibly dated. On the one hand, it can be a powerful tool for solving difficult story problems. On the other hand, it can hamper your ability to put your characters in the situations your story demands. Okay, I think I’m out of hands here. Actually, I was out of hands some time ago… But you get my point.
While we tend to think of technology as electronics and machines, it’s really broader than that. Pen and paper, pen and papyrus, stylus and clay were each the dominant writing technology at some point in history. But since we’re talking about modern settings here, I’ll stick to looking at technology in the sense that we generally think of it.
Obviously, I can’t cover nearly every facet of technology and how it can be handled in a contemporary story in a single blog post. But here are some general thoughts to get your brain juices going.
1) Think generic
Obviously, it’s impossible to predict all the technological developments that will happen in the next ten years (or five years, or ten days). But as a general rule, talking about technology in generic terms increases the chances that your book will retain its contemporary feel for more than a year after its publication.
For example, let’s say your teenage heroine gets a new phone. Talk about its sleek and graceful design, its lightning speed, and the fact that it gets better service than any of her friends, and kids ten years in the future will probably be able to relate. Start describing new, top of the line features, and you risk seeming a bit dated when those features become standard. Name it an iPhone 7--wait, 8--wait, X?--and you’ve settled your story solidly in a very specific slice of modern history, not to mention running the risk that it will already be dated by the time it goes to print. (Yes, I realize I’m talking to indie authors who can publish in about two clicks. My point still stands.)
This point applies to a lot of the details of your world, but it’s especially relevant when talking about technology. The app that’s been all the rage for months could fizzle out in a matter of days. Today’s cutting-edge innovations could be tomorrow’s bread and butter or be superseded with barely a ripple. Broadly speaking, it’s safer to take a gamble on established technologies (say, cell phones) and generic uses (say, texting or games) than on well-defined features or specific brand names. That’s not to say you can’t write a good story that references specific up-to-the-moment tech; just know that up-to-the-moment may start to feel incredibly dated incredibly fast.
2) Invent your own
Don’t go overboard with this one, but one of the great features of today’s technology for a writer is that it’s constantly shifting and evolving. Anyone know how many new apps are published on a daily basis? (Hey, I asked you first!) If you’re careful, you can leverage this fact to give your characters the little tech boosts they need, even if the real world isn’t quite there yet.
A couple of very important cautions here. First, make sure your invented technology is plausible in a modern-day context. A sensor that lets your hero know when the cat’s water is low probably won’t shock anyone. An app that can turn his phone’s camera into a metal-cutting laser—yeah, you’ve crossed into sci-fi. (Unless you’re writing a spy story, in which case you’re inventing all your own tech anyway, and the rules of the real world don’t apply to you. Also, why are you reading this?)
Second, the more powerful and less innocuous your invented technology, the more you need to justify how your character ended up with it. The cat-watering sensor probably doesn’t need an explanation, but an app that picks up security-camera feeds within a half-mile radius definitely does. If your hero isn’t a programmer himself, he’d better have a hacker friend or a parent in law enforcement or access to the local computer club. Have a well-thought-out plan before giving your characters technology that you’d be surprised to find in your app store.
Finally, don’t mention your invented tech for the first time when your hero uses it to bring down the villain or force the big climax. A surprising use of a phone camera or a music app might work here, but an app or device invented for the purpose will leave your readers feeling cheated. If you need to use invented or unusual technology in a key scene, you need to show it beforehand—preferably in a way that doesn’t seem like a set-up. If your hero needs his digital-clock-override app to defeat the locked vault, make sure we’ve seen him or his little sister using it to prank a friend’s alarm clock!
Invented or non-standard tech can be a useful addition to the contemporary writer’s toolbox, but use it sparingly and with caution if you want to keep your modern setting intact.
3) Admit failure
Let’s be honest; the abundance of modern technology can sometimes be frustrating for a writer. What? No, of course I’m not bitter that my earliest stories now read like historical fiction because they don’t involve cell phones. And can’t involve cell phones, because the plots would shrivel up and die. *sigh*
In a world that’s saturated in technology, we now have to find plausible reasons for things like why our heroine wouldn’t call for backup while following the villain. The answer used to be simple—she couldn’t find a phone. She left a note that blew away in the wind. She gave a message to a little boy, who promptly got called home to dinner. But now? We have to find a way to explain why she didn’t have her cell phone, why she didn’t use her cell phone, or why no one paid attention to her messages.
The good news is, technology fails do happen. (Just ask anyone who’s ever used a GPS.) The bad news is, your readers won’t be satisfied with a technology fail at a critical moment unless you’ve done your work for the set-up. Just because the one day you forgot to charge your phone was the day your boss called about picking up the CEO doesn’t mean your readers will accept that coincidence without explanation.
If you need a technology fail at a key point in the plot, you need to plan ahead. Er—behind? I mean before the critical plot point. Could you give your hero the habit of forgetting to turn his ringer back on? Have your heroine constantly loaning things to her friend—including her charger? Show the best friend weighing options for a new phone because his gets such poor reception? Better yet, work the explanation into a plot point or an argument or a mini-crisis early on. Let your readers think they know why the issue is important before it’s really important.
The bottom line is, if your readers walk away from a critical tech fail saying, “Well, that was convenient,” you’ve lost respect as an author. If they walk away saying, “Of course he forgot his phone—again!” or “I knew she should have gotten that fixed!” you’re golden. (Or is it silicon?)
Handling technology in contemporary fiction can certainly be a challenge, but overcoming that challenge presents fascinating opportunities to grow and shine as an author. Be aware and intentional, make your characters’ tech work for the story, and keep things convincing for your readers, and you’ll be well on your way to a believable modern-day world—technology included.
Questions or comments? Let me know! I’d love to hear your thoughts. :)
Voting for the book awards is still open, and I'm sure any of the authors involved would appreciate your support!
But on to the topic of the day--contemporary fiction. Stop by the main event to get my post on writing a modernized retelling. But in the meantime...
Technology is a tricky thing. On the one hand, it can help to ground your characters in modern-day reality. On the other hand, it can leave your story feeling incredibly dated. On the one hand, it can be a powerful tool for solving difficult story problems. On the other hand, it can hamper your ability to put your characters in the situations your story demands. Okay, I think I’m out of hands here. Actually, I was out of hands some time ago… But you get my point.
While we tend to think of technology as electronics and machines, it’s really broader than that. Pen and paper, pen and papyrus, stylus and clay were each the dominant writing technology at some point in history. But since we’re talking about modern settings here, I’ll stick to looking at technology in the sense that we generally think of it.
Obviously, I can’t cover nearly every facet of technology and how it can be handled in a contemporary story in a single blog post. But here are some general thoughts to get your brain juices going.
1) Think generic
Obviously, it’s impossible to predict all the technological developments that will happen in the next ten years (or five years, or ten days). But as a general rule, talking about technology in generic terms increases the chances that your book will retain its contemporary feel for more than a year after its publication.
For example, let’s say your teenage heroine gets a new phone. Talk about its sleek and graceful design, its lightning speed, and the fact that it gets better service than any of her friends, and kids ten years in the future will probably be able to relate. Start describing new, top of the line features, and you risk seeming a bit dated when those features become standard. Name it an iPhone 7--wait, 8--wait, X?--and you’ve settled your story solidly in a very specific slice of modern history, not to mention running the risk that it will already be dated by the time it goes to print. (Yes, I realize I’m talking to indie authors who can publish in about two clicks. My point still stands.)
This point applies to a lot of the details of your world, but it’s especially relevant when talking about technology. The app that’s been all the rage for months could fizzle out in a matter of days. Today’s cutting-edge innovations could be tomorrow’s bread and butter or be superseded with barely a ripple. Broadly speaking, it’s safer to take a gamble on established technologies (say, cell phones) and generic uses (say, texting or games) than on well-defined features or specific brand names. That’s not to say you can’t write a good story that references specific up-to-the-moment tech; just know that up-to-the-moment may start to feel incredibly dated incredibly fast.
2) Invent your own
Don’t go overboard with this one, but one of the great features of today’s technology for a writer is that it’s constantly shifting and evolving. Anyone know how many new apps are published on a daily basis? (Hey, I asked you first!) If you’re careful, you can leverage this fact to give your characters the little tech boosts they need, even if the real world isn’t quite there yet.
A couple of very important cautions here. First, make sure your invented technology is plausible in a modern-day context. A sensor that lets your hero know when the cat’s water is low probably won’t shock anyone. An app that can turn his phone’s camera into a metal-cutting laser—yeah, you’ve crossed into sci-fi. (Unless you’re writing a spy story, in which case you’re inventing all your own tech anyway, and the rules of the real world don’t apply to you. Also, why are you reading this?)
Second, the more powerful and less innocuous your invented technology, the more you need to justify how your character ended up with it. The cat-watering sensor probably doesn’t need an explanation, but an app that picks up security-camera feeds within a half-mile radius definitely does. If your hero isn’t a programmer himself, he’d better have a hacker friend or a parent in law enforcement or access to the local computer club. Have a well-thought-out plan before giving your characters technology that you’d be surprised to find in your app store.
Finally, don’t mention your invented tech for the first time when your hero uses it to bring down the villain or force the big climax. A surprising use of a phone camera or a music app might work here, but an app or device invented for the purpose will leave your readers feeling cheated. If you need to use invented or unusual technology in a key scene, you need to show it beforehand—preferably in a way that doesn’t seem like a set-up. If your hero needs his digital-clock-override app to defeat the locked vault, make sure we’ve seen him or his little sister using it to prank a friend’s alarm clock!
Invented or non-standard tech can be a useful addition to the contemporary writer’s toolbox, but use it sparingly and with caution if you want to keep your modern setting intact.
3) Admit failure
Let’s be honest; the abundance of modern technology can sometimes be frustrating for a writer. What? No, of course I’m not bitter that my earliest stories now read like historical fiction because they don’t involve cell phones. And can’t involve cell phones, because the plots would shrivel up and die. *sigh*
In a world that’s saturated in technology, we now have to find plausible reasons for things like why our heroine wouldn’t call for backup while following the villain. The answer used to be simple—she couldn’t find a phone. She left a note that blew away in the wind. She gave a message to a little boy, who promptly got called home to dinner. But now? We have to find a way to explain why she didn’t have her cell phone, why she didn’t use her cell phone, or why no one paid attention to her messages.
The good news is, technology fails do happen. (Just ask anyone who’s ever used a GPS.) The bad news is, your readers won’t be satisfied with a technology fail at a critical moment unless you’ve done your work for the set-up. Just because the one day you forgot to charge your phone was the day your boss called about picking up the CEO doesn’t mean your readers will accept that coincidence without explanation.
If you need a technology fail at a key point in the plot, you need to plan ahead. Er—behind? I mean before the critical plot point. Could you give your hero the habit of forgetting to turn his ringer back on? Have your heroine constantly loaning things to her friend—including her charger? Show the best friend weighing options for a new phone because his gets such poor reception? Better yet, work the explanation into a plot point or an argument or a mini-crisis early on. Let your readers think they know why the issue is important before it’s really important.
The bottom line is, if your readers walk away from a critical tech fail saying, “Well, that was convenient,” you’ve lost respect as an author. If they walk away saying, “Of course he forgot his phone—again!” or “I knew she should have gotten that fixed!” you’re golden. (Or is it silicon?)
Handling technology in contemporary fiction can certainly be a challenge, but overcoming that challenge presents fascinating opportunities to grow and shine as an author. Be aware and intentional, make your characters’ tech work for the story, and keep things convincing for your readers, and you’ll be well on your way to a believable modern-day world—technology included.
Questions or comments? Let me know! I’d love to hear your thoughts. :)
May 19, 2018
Indie E-Con Scavenger Hunt 2018 - Stop #11
Hello, everyone, and welcome to Indie E-Con 2018! That is, welcome to the very small portion of it that will appear on my blog. The main event will be found at the link above, and I’m really looking forward to both attending and participating. Here’s just a sampling of what it will include—author blog posts, book awards, writing critiques, games and prizes, ice cream—oh, wait, that’s right; the ice cream is bring-your-own. ;) If you’re interested, I hope you’ll stop by and check it out.
Any of my regular followers know that I’m not much of a blogger, but I will be posting a couple of things here over the next week that relate to E-Con. And to kick things off, we have a beautiful scavenger hunt spread over a ton of author blogs. The catch—everyone is guest-posting on someone else’s blog!
Each of the blogs will contain a letter to help you fill in the mystery phrase. In this case, I’ll give you the clue at the end, where I’ll also let you know where to find my own post.
And now, let me introduce you to Kyle Robert Shultz!
I’ll say right off the bat that I haven’t read any of his work. (I think I’ve mentioned before that I don’t read magical fantasy.) But I can already tell that he has a great sense of humor…
Take it away, Kyle!
How I Failed at Not Being an Author
I really, really tried not to write and publish a book. I want everyone to know that right from the start. If you’re displeased at seeing all these wacky little stories about retold fairy tales and snarky magical creatures with my name on them, please keep in mind that I did my very best to prevent them from ever existing.
In fact, the very first time that the concept of an alternate reality where fairy tales are history popped into my head, I upheld my duty as a non-author and shoved it into the back of my mind where it belonged. “It’s too ridiculous,” I told myself. “And complicated. And probably boring. Nobody will want to read it. I am most definitely not going to write it.”
However, it proved to be a lot more stubborn than I had imagined. Storylines sprouted and spread like crab grass, refusing to abate despite my very best efforts. Still, I stuck to all the time-honored methods of not writing a book--procrastinating, self-criticism, comparing my ideas unfavorably to those of other writers, reminding myself that I was nothing more than an impostor in author’s clothing. That worked for a while.
Then the characters started cropping up. I blame the fact that I randomly thought of the names “Beaumont and Beasley”--an admittedly catchy twist on the title “Beauty and the Beast.” To my chagrin, personalities began to take shape behind the names: a skeptical detective turned into a storybook monster, and the quirky enchantress who put the spell on him.
“Yes, thank you, not today,” I said, showing the odd couple to the door and slamming it behind them. “I am not an author,” I added through the keyhole. “Please take your bizarre, completely unmarketable stories elsewhere.”
Then I turned around to discover that they’d climbed through the window or something, and were now standing right behind me, demanding that I explain why I wouldn’t write their stories.
Even now, in the face of all this resistance, I struggled to cling to my non-author status. I kept shooing the characters into the dark corners of my brain. I changed their first names every three seconds just to annoy them. I insulted their personalities and highlighted all their weaknesses. I made a very clear and well-argued case for why nobody would ever want to read about these people.
I really thought all that would finally drive them away. But still they lingered on, sometimes waking me out of a sound sleep and forcing me to scribble down random notes about them in the middle of the night.
Finally, I had had enough. I decided it was time for drastic, unthinkable measures.
“FINE!” I shouted at these pesky characters and overgrown storylines. “I’ll show you! I’ll write you! And I’ll even go a step further. I’ll put you on a writing critique website! On display, for everyone to see and tear you to shreds! That’ll teach you to try to make me write a book!”
It was a brilliant plan, or so I thought. Surely this would set the whole matter to rest once and for all. And anyway, the creative part of my brain would surely peter out after a few chapters, leaving me free to sweep the whole thing into the garbage and never think about it again.
But there were a couple of things I didn’t count on. First of all, the characters--who by now had taken the names Nick and Cordelia--were a lot more stubborn than I thought. They would not go gently into that good night. Instead, they raged against the dying of my laptop screen and insisted that I keep plugging away at their stupid story.
Also, posting this stuff online spurred me to--horror of horrors--finish it. I admit it, I caved to the peer pressure of the other people on the critique website and completely betrayed the deep convictions of my non-authorship. Soon, I actually had a complete draft sitting on my hard drive. And online as well, which meant that I couldn’t just make it vanish. There were witnesses, after all.
That’s not to say I didn’t try to make it all go away. I couldn’t bring myself to delete it, so instead I opted to destroy it in a more figurative way. “By the time I’m done with you,” I warned the Frankensteinian thing that dared to call itself a book, “you’ll wish I’d deleted you! You’ll beg me to delete you! And I will refuse, and laugh in your face! HA HA HAAA!!!”
My occasional bursts of maniacal laughter caused my family to worry about my health, but I ignored them. I had non-work to do, after all. I’d failed to not-write a book, and I sure as anything wasn’t going to fail to not-publish it.
I savaged the so-called “book.” I took note of every single one of its flaws, even those so miniscule that they were invisible to the naked eye without a microscope. I piled a few dozen more insults onto its characters. I wrote about seventy bazillion alternate versions of it in fruitless, demoralizing attempts to fix its shortcomings. I felt sure that would finally bludgeon it into submission.
But no, of course it didn’t. The original draft of the book refused to die.
“All right, that does it,” I told the book, which was now calling itself The Beast of Talesend. “I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget. It might destroy my reputation, but at least it’ll destroy you as well.”
And so I did the unthinkable. I published the book.
It was a great and noble act of self sacrifice, of course. And it was bound to work, I reasoned. After all, those few people on the critique website probably didn’t know what they were talking about. Once my book was available for the whole world to read, everyone would see how inferior it was. I would probably become a laughingstock, but at least I would have finally destroyed The Beast of Talesend. It would all be worth it.
Except that’s not what happened. I’m not saying everyone loved it--though many people did. To my consternation, though, even the people who didn’t love it were kind enough to look past the fact that I was a new author with a lot to learn. Instead, they wrote reviews saying how much they enjoyed the book, and offered kind, helpful feedback for how I could improve in future stories.
It was over. I had gambled and lost, and permanently sabotaged my non-lucrative, unfulfilling career as a non-author. There was no going back for me now.
I was left with no other choice but to accept my fate. And so I stand before you now, a failed non-author, whose unruly characters forced me to write several more books of their misadventures. Whatever you do, don’t read them. You’ll only make things worse for me.
Perhaps you can learn from my cautionary tale and avoid my mistakes. Procrastinate at every opportunity, relentlessly criticize yourself, and cultivate a chronic case of impostor syndrome. Also, whatever you do, don’t let other people read your work and offer their feedback, under any circumstances. Make this fatal mistake, and your non-authorhood will be gone in the blink of an eye. Although if you agonize over every detail of the critiques you receive and take them fully to heart, you just might be able to nip your potential writing career in the bud.
Or, you can fall back on this time-honored strategy: don’t write. Write absolutely nothing. Even a shopping list can turn into a novel if you’re not careful. Keep well away from all pens and keyboards, and you can remain in blissful serenity, with no characters or plot threads cluttering up your mind and demanding your attention.
If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like me, wrangling dragons and cataloguing alternate realities for a living.
Who would want that?
Giveaway: Everyone who signs up for my email newsletter this month will be entered into a paperback giveaway for Horseman, my new western/fantasy novel. Use this link to subscribe: http://eepurl.com/cHwAHT.
Links:
Website: http://www.kylerobertshultz.com
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/kylerobe...
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/KyleRobe...
Podcast: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/f...
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/kylerobertsh...
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kylerbrtshultz
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kylerobertshultz
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/kylerobertsh...
-----
Okay, I’m back with your clue! In case you’re just joining us, here is the phrase to be filled in—
And here is your clue—
If you’re just getting started, you can go back to the beginning at Kandi J. Wyatt’s blog here or find the full list of blogs here. (Did I mention there are prizes involved?) If you’d like to check out my own post, you can find it here—hosted by Jesseca Wheaton! The official party starts on Monday—I hope you’ll stop by and see us!
Any of my regular followers know that I’m not much of a blogger, but I will be posting a couple of things here over the next week that relate to E-Con. And to kick things off, we have a beautiful scavenger hunt spread over a ton of author blogs. The catch—everyone is guest-posting on someone else’s blog!
Each of the blogs will contain a letter to help you fill in the mystery phrase. In this case, I’ll give you the clue at the end, where I’ll also let you know where to find my own post.
And now, let me introduce you to Kyle Robert Shultz!
I’ll say right off the bat that I haven’t read any of his work. (I think I’ve mentioned before that I don’t read magical fantasy.) But I can already tell that he has a great sense of humor…
Take it away, Kyle!
How I Failed at Not Being an Author
I really, really tried not to write and publish a book. I want everyone to know that right from the start. If you’re displeased at seeing all these wacky little stories about retold fairy tales and snarky magical creatures with my name on them, please keep in mind that I did my very best to prevent them from ever existing.
In fact, the very first time that the concept of an alternate reality where fairy tales are history popped into my head, I upheld my duty as a non-author and shoved it into the back of my mind where it belonged. “It’s too ridiculous,” I told myself. “And complicated. And probably boring. Nobody will want to read it. I am most definitely not going to write it.”
However, it proved to be a lot more stubborn than I had imagined. Storylines sprouted and spread like crab grass, refusing to abate despite my very best efforts. Still, I stuck to all the time-honored methods of not writing a book--procrastinating, self-criticism, comparing my ideas unfavorably to those of other writers, reminding myself that I was nothing more than an impostor in author’s clothing. That worked for a while.
Then the characters started cropping up. I blame the fact that I randomly thought of the names “Beaumont and Beasley”--an admittedly catchy twist on the title “Beauty and the Beast.” To my chagrin, personalities began to take shape behind the names: a skeptical detective turned into a storybook monster, and the quirky enchantress who put the spell on him.
“Yes, thank you, not today,” I said, showing the odd couple to the door and slamming it behind them. “I am not an author,” I added through the keyhole. “Please take your bizarre, completely unmarketable stories elsewhere.”
Then I turned around to discover that they’d climbed through the window or something, and were now standing right behind me, demanding that I explain why I wouldn’t write their stories.
Even now, in the face of all this resistance, I struggled to cling to my non-author status. I kept shooing the characters into the dark corners of my brain. I changed their first names every three seconds just to annoy them. I insulted their personalities and highlighted all their weaknesses. I made a very clear and well-argued case for why nobody would ever want to read about these people.
I really thought all that would finally drive them away. But still they lingered on, sometimes waking me out of a sound sleep and forcing me to scribble down random notes about them in the middle of the night.
Finally, I had had enough. I decided it was time for drastic, unthinkable measures.
“FINE!” I shouted at these pesky characters and overgrown storylines. “I’ll show you! I’ll write you! And I’ll even go a step further. I’ll put you on a writing critique website! On display, for everyone to see and tear you to shreds! That’ll teach you to try to make me write a book!”
It was a brilliant plan, or so I thought. Surely this would set the whole matter to rest once and for all. And anyway, the creative part of my brain would surely peter out after a few chapters, leaving me free to sweep the whole thing into the garbage and never think about it again.
But there were a couple of things I didn’t count on. First of all, the characters--who by now had taken the names Nick and Cordelia--were a lot more stubborn than I thought. They would not go gently into that good night. Instead, they raged against the dying of my laptop screen and insisted that I keep plugging away at their stupid story.
Also, posting this stuff online spurred me to--horror of horrors--finish it. I admit it, I caved to the peer pressure of the other people on the critique website and completely betrayed the deep convictions of my non-authorship. Soon, I actually had a complete draft sitting on my hard drive. And online as well, which meant that I couldn’t just make it vanish. There were witnesses, after all.
That’s not to say I didn’t try to make it all go away. I couldn’t bring myself to delete it, so instead I opted to destroy it in a more figurative way. “By the time I’m done with you,” I warned the Frankensteinian thing that dared to call itself a book, “you’ll wish I’d deleted you! You’ll beg me to delete you! And I will refuse, and laugh in your face! HA HA HAAA!!!”
My occasional bursts of maniacal laughter caused my family to worry about my health, but I ignored them. I had non-work to do, after all. I’d failed to not-write a book, and I sure as anything wasn’t going to fail to not-publish it.
I savaged the so-called “book.” I took note of every single one of its flaws, even those so miniscule that they were invisible to the naked eye without a microscope. I piled a few dozen more insults onto its characters. I wrote about seventy bazillion alternate versions of it in fruitless, demoralizing attempts to fix its shortcomings. I felt sure that would finally bludgeon it into submission.
But no, of course it didn’t. The original draft of the book refused to die.
“All right, that does it,” I told the book, which was now calling itself The Beast of Talesend. “I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget. It might destroy my reputation, but at least it’ll destroy you as well.”
And so I did the unthinkable. I published the book.
It was a great and noble act of self sacrifice, of course. And it was bound to work, I reasoned. After all, those few people on the critique website probably didn’t know what they were talking about. Once my book was available for the whole world to read, everyone would see how inferior it was. I would probably become a laughingstock, but at least I would have finally destroyed The Beast of Talesend. It would all be worth it.
Except that’s not what happened. I’m not saying everyone loved it--though many people did. To my consternation, though, even the people who didn’t love it were kind enough to look past the fact that I was a new author with a lot to learn. Instead, they wrote reviews saying how much they enjoyed the book, and offered kind, helpful feedback for how I could improve in future stories.
It was over. I had gambled and lost, and permanently sabotaged my non-lucrative, unfulfilling career as a non-author. There was no going back for me now.
I was left with no other choice but to accept my fate. And so I stand before you now, a failed non-author, whose unruly characters forced me to write several more books of their misadventures. Whatever you do, don’t read them. You’ll only make things worse for me.
Perhaps you can learn from my cautionary tale and avoid my mistakes. Procrastinate at every opportunity, relentlessly criticize yourself, and cultivate a chronic case of impostor syndrome. Also, whatever you do, don’t let other people read your work and offer their feedback, under any circumstances. Make this fatal mistake, and your non-authorhood will be gone in the blink of an eye. Although if you agonize over every detail of the critiques you receive and take them fully to heart, you just might be able to nip your potential writing career in the bud.
Or, you can fall back on this time-honored strategy: don’t write. Write absolutely nothing. Even a shopping list can turn into a novel if you’re not careful. Keep well away from all pens and keyboards, and you can remain in blissful serenity, with no characters or plot threads cluttering up your mind and demanding your attention.
If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like me, wrangling dragons and cataloguing alternate realities for a living.
Who would want that?
Giveaway: Everyone who signs up for my email newsletter this month will be entered into a paperback giveaway for Horseman, my new western/fantasy novel. Use this link to subscribe: http://eepurl.com/cHwAHT.
Links:
Website: http://www.kylerobertshultz.com
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/kylerobe...
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/KyleRobe...
Podcast: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/f...
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/kylerobertsh...
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kylerbrtshultz
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kylerobertshultz
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/kylerobertsh...
-----
Okay, I’m back with your clue! In case you’re just joining us, here is the phrase to be filled in—
And here is your clue—
If you’re just getting started, you can go back to the beginning at Kandi J. Wyatt’s blog here or find the full list of blogs here. (Did I mention there are prizes involved?) If you’d like to check out my own post, you can find it here—hosted by Jesseca Wheaton! The official party starts on Monday—I hope you’ll stop by and see us!
May 2, 2018
More Books on Sale!
So, here's the info I probably should have waited on before posting yesterday. Still really feeling my way with this whole update thing. ;)
I'm extremely excited to be participating in my first Indie E-Con later this May! I've glanced over a bunch of the posts from last year, and it looks awesome! More on that when it comes...
But the main reason my book is on sale this week is because it's a candidate in this year's Indie E-Con Book Awards contest! Which means there are a bunch of other (presumably) great clean/Christian indie books also selling for free or $0.99 this week. (Check prices because some haven't gone on sale yet.)
Please note that I haven't read all the books on this list; I've read several, snapped up a bunch more yesterday--my poor TBR pile--and probably won't read the rest (magical fantasy and zombies aren't really my thing). However, all the books here should fit within these standards. Hope you find something here you enjoy, and if you do, I'm sure the authors would appreciate your support when voting opens later in May! :D
Also note that the writing contest (separate from the book awards) has been extended through the end of the week--still time to slip in a short story if you'd like to participate. Hope to see you there!
I'm extremely excited to be participating in my first Indie E-Con later this May! I've glanced over a bunch of the posts from last year, and it looks awesome! More on that when it comes...
But the main reason my book is on sale this week is because it's a candidate in this year's Indie E-Con Book Awards contest! Which means there are a bunch of other (presumably) great clean/Christian indie books also selling for free or $0.99 this week. (Check prices because some haven't gone on sale yet.)
Please note that I haven't read all the books on this list; I've read several, snapped up a bunch more yesterday--my poor TBR pile--and probably won't read the rest (magical fantasy and zombies aren't really my thing). However, all the books here should fit within these standards. Hope you find something here you enjoy, and if you do, I'm sure the authors would appreciate your support when voting opens later in May! :D
Also note that the writing contest (separate from the book awards) has been extended through the end of the week--still time to slip in a short story if you'd like to participate. Hope to see you there!
May 1, 2018
Sale This Week
And, as promised, Bridgers: A Parable is on sale for $0.99 from now through May 5th!
You can find it on Amazon here, or for those who don't have a Kindle, in the Smashwords store here.
Hope you enjoy!
You can find it on Amazon here, or for those who don't have a Kindle, in the Smashwords store here.
Hope you enjoy!
April 23, 2018
Book of the Month Link & Thoughts
So, I found out last week that Bridgers: A Parable is one of several titles in the running for the January Book of the Month award on the Interviews & Reviews website.
And I'll be honest--I looked through the list and felt a bit like the old Sesame Street song ("One of these things is not like the others..."). Seriously. My book next to a book I recently read and adored. And others that I've seen people raving about on Goodreads. Books by actual authors for crying out loud! (Yeah, I had thought I was over the worst of the "impostor syndrome," but apparently not.)
So, I'm not going to beg for votes for my book. But in case anyone feels like going and voting for any of these books, I thought I'd pass the link along. I know your honest feedback would be appreciated!
https://www.interviewsandreviews.com/...
Oh, and in case anyone would like to give my book a try before voting closes (or after voting closes, or when pigs fly away with the rest of your to-read list), I'll have it on sale the first week of May. More details to come on that later...
Huge thank-yous to everyone in my life who has reviewed my book, encouraged my writing, and tolerated my updates on this shaky journey from writer to author. Even if I never win or even feel qualified for an award, knowing that my writing is blessing people is such a huge encouragement and so much more than I could have ever expected! Thanks again!
And I'll be honest--I looked through the list and felt a bit like the old Sesame Street song ("One of these things is not like the others..."). Seriously. My book next to a book I recently read and adored. And others that I've seen people raving about on Goodreads. Books by actual authors for crying out loud! (Yeah, I had thought I was over the worst of the "impostor syndrome," but apparently not.)
So, I'm not going to beg for votes for my book. But in case anyone feels like going and voting for any of these books, I thought I'd pass the link along. I know your honest feedback would be appreciated!
https://www.interviewsandreviews.com/...
Oh, and in case anyone would like to give my book a try before voting closes (or after voting closes, or when pigs fly away with the rest of your to-read list), I'll have it on sale the first week of May. More details to come on that later...
Huge thank-yous to everyone in my life who has reviewed my book, encouraged my writing, and tolerated my updates on this shaky journey from writer to author. Even if I never win or even feel qualified for an award, knowing that my writing is blessing people is such a huge encouragement and so much more than I could have ever expected! Thanks again!
March 29, 2018
Review Podcast Feature
I don't usually use blog space to talk about my reviews, but this is a very special one...
My first (okay, so far only) published book was just reviewed on the Bookworm Banquet podcast! I'm a regular follower of both the blog and the podcast, so this is an almost surreal moment for me.
I'm including the link below in case you'd like to check it out. The segment on Bridgers starts just before the 20 minute mark, but I recommend listening to the whole episode, which also includes a great review of Victoria Lynn's London in the Dark.
http://www.bookwormbanquet.com/2018/0...
Thanks so much to JD and Nicole for the review and the encouragement! More to come, Lord willing!
More books, I mean, not more reviews--although more reviews are always great... Never mind. ;)
My first (okay, so far only) published book was just reviewed on the Bookworm Banquet podcast! I'm a regular follower of both the blog and the podcast, so this is an almost surreal moment for me.
I'm including the link below in case you'd like to check it out. The segment on Bridgers starts just before the 20 minute mark, but I recommend listening to the whole episode, which also includes a great review of Victoria Lynn's London in the Dark.
http://www.bookwormbanquet.com/2018/0...
Thanks so much to JD and Nicole for the review and the encouragement! More to come, Lord willing!
More books, I mean, not more reviews--although more reviews are always great... Never mind. ;)
March 23, 2018
Last Week for Giveaway
Hey, everyone! I know several of you have already checked it out, but in case you haven't, this is the last week for my giveaway of Bridgers: A Parable on BookGobbler. Still six e-copies available for review and plenty of space left in the paperback giveaway! :D
https://www.bookgobbler.com/2018/01/1...
Or, if you're interested in a review copy and would rather not sign up on the site, feel free to message me here. ;)
Thanks again!
Angie
(And for those of you who are curious, I'm finally getting over my "newly published" daze and getting back to writing, so more to come--I hope!)
https://www.bookgobbler.com/2018/01/1...
Or, if you're interested in a review copy and would rather not sign up on the site, feel free to message me here. ;)
Thanks again!
Angie
(And for those of you who are curious, I'm finally getting over my "newly published" daze and getting back to writing, so more to come--I hope!)
