Amy Plum's Blog, page 24
November 18, 2012
Poem by Stephanie Reyes (for ARC contest)
My SUN… and I.
The sun, the moons, and the stars, change slowly over time;
Like me, I change and age like any other,
Yet in death’s call I go back to my original form.
Like them I will waste away slowly, depending on the life of my sun.
I should not get too attached, since suns eventually die.
It will end my existence, cast my world into darkness.
It will burst me into a million fragments, until I can slowly be brought together.
I had found the light, yet can easily lose it.
My sun is fragile, yet it ages the fastest, more quicker then I.
One day it will die, and will I.
by Stephanie Reyes
An entire blog made for ARC contest
Tabea Marei had too much to say and to show for just one entry. So she made a whole blog full! This one made me laugh.
Artwork by Sana Zahra (ARC contest)
Also among my favorites, an original artwork by Sana Zahra.
Nail art by Morgane Fabreguettes (ARC contest entry)
This was one of my top choices because it’s so original and totally AWESOME!!!
Nail art based on the DIE FOR ME book covers, by Morgane Fabreguettes
The winning entry: Anne Flegel
I can’t figure out how to post this except as a link, since it’s in a pdf file. But this is the entry that I chose: a testimonial written in lyric prose by Anne Flegel.
It is simple. It is beautiful. It reminds me of Hemingway’s motto: “one true sentence.” Anne wrote it with her heart, and it touched me.
Poem by Jodi Phillips (for ARC contest)
The wind shutters around my seemingly lifeless body
I shudder at the cold that I now feel
Though I am not dead… dead seems a relative word now days
I feel the loneliness sink deeper than ever imaginable.
I take a second to try to breathe. To not be alone
But the arms will not shake from around me
Memories of his warmth… his arms around me won’t even comfort
He is gone, too far for me to find, at least it feels that way
I hear a voice… maybe not as real as I let myself believe
It tells me I am so close, not to stop looking.
I let myself hope that I am not imagining, that this is real
That somehow we have found each other in this ….
This vast world that is not real or fake
It is somewhere in between where the bonds that
Have held us back can be shaken off and all will be right
I shiver to think that this is only my imagination
I force myself to take a step… to move my lifeless body
To take one more day. Maybe it is all it will take
I shiver again but this time it is from the knowledge that just maybe
The same voice is now really telling me “I love you.”
The wind shutters around my seemingly lifeless body
I shudder at the cold that I now feel
Though I am not dead… dead seems a relative word now days
I let the hope raise from a place I thought to be lost.
Jodi Phillips
November 17, 2012
Winner of the very first signed ARC contest!
I am stunned. Gobsmacked. Bowled over by the entries that you sent me for the ARC contest.
I knew you guys were smart. I’ve talked to enough of you online and in person to know that. But I had no idea how creative and talented my readers are. Holy cow, I hope you all grow up to be artists, writers, songwriters, filmmakers, poets, graphic artists, actors, and photographers. Because you guys ROCK!!!
And I’m not just saying that. I was astounded when I opened each of your emails.
Which made it really hard to choose just one of you to win the ARC. Some of the entries took a lot of time and effort. Some were brief flashes of brilliance. Which made it impossible to judge because—what am I judging here? Talent? Dedication? Creativity? Originality?
So I finally just chose the one that touched me the most. It was a testimonial, written beautifully against a backdrop of IF I SHOULD DIE covers. And the writer was Anne Flegel of Germany.
But I can’t forget all of the rest of you who poured your time and effort into your entries. So everyone’s going to win something. I will be contacting you each individually to find out what you want. But to you as a group, I have to say…
Thank you. Thank you for making me realize how much my stories mean to you. Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself with me. And thank you for being the best kind of people…my favorite kind of people…those who love books passionately.
Now everyone crowd in for a group hug. *hugs everyone* *pats backs* *maybe, just maybe, sheds a tear of gratefulness because you make me smile*
November 16, 2012
If I Should Die: Teaser #2
I’m sitting here in my batcave-of-the-week, a manor in Normandy where I’m catsitting a grey feline named Josie who has a tail that curls like a monkey, and banging out pages of JUNEAU. The last few entries for the FIRST SIGNED ARC contest are trickling in. And let me tell you, there are some doozies!
I went over to Goodreads, where I am constantly amused by the fact that people give ratings to books that I haven’t even written yet. And there are lots of comments on the IF I SHOULD DIE page that are absolutely hilarious. People mock-furious with me for the cliffie ending of UNTIL I DIE. People thinking that it’s my fault that you have to wait a year to read the sequel. (psst…I have nothing to do with the scheduling. I’m just glad I finished it on time!) People have posted their theories of what will happen in Book 3. And it was so fun to read them. I’m glad I didn’t see them ’til now, though, because who knows if it would have influenced what I actually wrote!
So, motivated by the spirit of excitement that I read on that page, I thought I’d give you another tiny peek into Book 3 of the DIE FOR ME SERIES. Excerpt from page 105. Enjoy.
“Very well done,” Arthur said as his sword clattered to the armory floor. Georgia smiled and, placing one hand on her hip, circled her sword in a victorious flourish, causing Arthur to duck to avoid grievous bodily injury.
“Hi Katie-Bean!” she yelled, spotting me coming down the stairs. “Guess what? I totally rock at sword fighting! Just wait till all those haters see me do this—” she said, lunging in a crazed Three Musketeers move, forcing Arthur to skip nimbly out of the way.
“….do you wanna practice with me?” Georgia asked, posing her sword tip on her toe, and then recoiling as it went through her shoe. “Ouch!”
“Um, yeah. They’re sharp. Why don’t you practice with one of the blunt-tipped practice épées,” I asked.
“Oh, please,” Georgia said. “I’m not a complete wimp.”
p.s. I love Georgia. Can you tell? 
