Dawn Metcalf's Blog, page 22
March 14, 2013
The Fans Have Spoken! Now What Does This Tell Us?
Still kind of gobsmacked over the news yesterday. Okay, I'm not talking about the new Pope Francis I or that Google Reader is going the way of the dodo, because while that is certainly big news for their respective demographics (and, arguably, the larger world), my attention was snagged by what might very well be the tipping point for the creative arts industry: the record-breaking Veronica Mars Movie Kickstarter Project.
If you somehow missed it on Twitter or on Facebook or the news, let me tell you that waking up yesterday to find news of a proposed film starring the much-beloved and oft-lamented noir teen detective, Veronica Mars, was something of a shock. Of course ever since the show had been summarily yanked from the airwaves (full episodes available here) there was fan-grumbling and heavy-hearted best wishes from cast and crew, not the least of which from producer,
The next few hours was akin to watching the Lottery or possibly a lunar landing. But more surreal.
I and many in the publishing business--including, obviously, tons of fans from around the world--began to contribute little by little, auto-links to social media instantly let you brag about it and provided an easy link to your entire platform of "Friends," and we gathered around our monitors as even bigger prizes offered for crazy things like celebrity voice-overs, naming film characters and even a speaking part in the movie that went for $10,000 get snapped up in a blink. By 10am, it was well on its way to hitting half-a-million. Then it eked up into the $900,000s and shot past into $1.2 million before we knew it later that afternoon, passing it's $2 million marker within the first day of the project. You could hear the collective cheering of those who had loved this show in 2004 who now had jobs and spending cash and were willing to throw some on a wish-fulfillment fantasy-come-true. The fans had spoken. Heck, they'd SCREAMED! It was awesome (in the original sense of the word and then some)!
My thought: such is the power of the fanbase and if this isn't clear proof of Amanda Palmer's assertion of what you can get from asking those with whom you've made a personal connection, I don't know what is. (And if you haven't seen her insightful TED talk, take the time and watch it here:)
The truth is that I don't know what I witnessed happen yesterday, but I can tell that it's big. There are repercussions rippling out into the realm of possibility, both positive and negative, for what this can mean for social media expectations, celebrity buy-in, corporate inclusion/exclusion, and reminded me more than a little bit of what Joss Whedon did on his own after the last FOX fiasco by creating Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog online and then going straight to profit on DVD. It's out-of-the-box thinking and Paying It Forward together at their finest. Asking and receiving and connecting and calling it "work" as well as "art" with an almost direct line from brainpan to Paypal with a click of the button. Sure, the fangirl in me is giggling with glee, already imagining the possibilities I once thought extinct, but while the fan in me is watching, the artist in me is watching, and the business-person inside me is watching--all riveted to find out what else we have in store. But I do know this: I got the following email from Rob Thomas' Kickstarter Project Update this morning as one of the contributing horde:
By the way, yesterday we set a few records.
We were the fastest Kickstarter project to hit $1M. We were the fastest Kickstarter project to hit $2M. We set the record for highest goal ever achieved. (Other KS projects have done better than us -- so far -- but none set a goal as high as our $2M goal.) We're also the largest film project in Kickstarter history.
Cannot thank everyone enough.
Whoa.
Did you see it? Did you contribute? Why? What would YOU like to see get funded by fans and what do you think this might mean for the industry as a whole? I'm curious to see if anyone else was struck by this and what patterns you might have seen in its future. As for me, I'm waiting (not-so-)patiently for the next great geekasm to show up as a convenient $10 pledge.
If you somehow missed it on Twitter or on Facebook or the news, let me tell you that waking up yesterday to find news of a proposed film starring the much-beloved and oft-lamented noir teen detective, Veronica Mars, was something of a shock. Of course ever since the show had been summarily yanked from the airwaves (full episodes available here) there was fan-grumbling and heavy-hearted best wishes from cast and crew, not the least of which from producer,
The next few hours was akin to watching the Lottery or possibly a lunar landing. But more surreal.
I and many in the publishing business--including, obviously, tons of fans from around the world--began to contribute little by little, auto-links to social media instantly let you brag about it and provided an easy link to your entire platform of "Friends," and we gathered around our monitors as even bigger prizes offered for crazy things like celebrity voice-overs, naming film characters and even a speaking part in the movie that went for $10,000 get snapped up in a blink. By 10am, it was well on its way to hitting half-a-million. Then it eked up into the $900,000s and shot past into $1.2 million before we knew it later that afternoon, passing it's $2 million marker within the first day of the project. You could hear the collective cheering of those who had loved this show in 2004 who now had jobs and spending cash and were willing to throw some on a wish-fulfillment fantasy-come-true. The fans had spoken. Heck, they'd SCREAMED! It was awesome (in the original sense of the word and then some)!
My thought: such is the power of the fanbase and if this isn't clear proof of Amanda Palmer's assertion of what you can get from asking those with whom you've made a personal connection, I don't know what is. (And if you haven't seen her insightful TED talk, take the time and watch it here:)
The truth is that I don't know what I witnessed happen yesterday, but I can tell that it's big. There are repercussions rippling out into the realm of possibility, both positive and negative, for what this can mean for social media expectations, celebrity buy-in, corporate inclusion/exclusion, and reminded me more than a little bit of what Joss Whedon did on his own after the last FOX fiasco by creating Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog online and then going straight to profit on DVD. It's out-of-the-box thinking and Paying It Forward together at their finest. Asking and receiving and connecting and calling it "work" as well as "art" with an almost direct line from brainpan to Paypal with a click of the button. Sure, the fangirl in me is giggling with glee, already imagining the possibilities I once thought extinct, but while the fan in me is watching, the artist in me is watching, and the business-person inside me is watching--all riveted to find out what else we have in store. But I do know this: I got the following email from Rob Thomas' Kickstarter Project Update this morning as one of the contributing horde:
By the way, yesterday we set a few records.
We were the fastest Kickstarter project to hit $1M. We were the fastest Kickstarter project to hit $2M. We set the record for highest goal ever achieved. (Other KS projects have done better than us -- so far -- but none set a goal as high as our $2M goal.) We're also the largest film project in Kickstarter history.
Cannot thank everyone enough.
Whoa.
Did you see it? Did you contribute? Why? What would YOU like to see get funded by fans and what do you think this might mean for the industry as a whole? I'm curious to see if anyone else was struck by this and what patterns you might have seen in its future. As for me, I'm waiting (not-so-)patiently for the next great geekasm to show up as a convenient $10 pledge.
March 11, 2013
Life Imitating Art Imitating Walls of Furbies
I had an experience this weekend. It looked something like this:
and this:
and this:
and this:
This was not a store, by the way. This was a person's house.
In fact, these few photos utterly fail to capture the impact of this experience. This was not one room, or even a set of rooms, this was nearly every room in the house, floor-to-ceiling, lining door frames and window ledges, stacked neatly on shelves and piled onto beds, were rows upon rows upon rows of plushie monsters. Monsters. Of plush. I recognized most, but not all of them from cult classic sci-fi films to holiday specials to popular kid's cereal characters, but please picture (if you can) entering an entire three-story house covered floor-to-ceiling in stuffed animal monsters, including a home theater dedicated entirely to monster movies.
The upstairs home theater. I dubbed it "the safe room."
My son stopped dead in the doorway and wouldn't budge. My husband refused to go near the wall of mini-to-giant-sized Furbies. My daughter gleefully explored the walls looking for favorites like the Abominable Snowman and Fizzgig and Stellaluna. Me? I took pictures. I had the vague feeling that I'd either stepped into the house described in READY PLAYER ONE with the claustrophobia of DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS meets what it must have been like for Marcus in PAPER TOWNS in his parents' house filled with black Santas. Basically, it was surreal--like walking into a character's house, not something that belonged in real life, although that is what our books are based on. So: life imitating life imitating life. With Furbies.
Ever feel like that? (With or without the Furbies.) Actually, I'm pretty sure this is what my madness looks like from the outside. It's a humbling (and bizarrely fascinating) perspective. What do you think?
and this:
and this:
and this:
This was not a store, by the way. This was a person's house.
In fact, these few photos utterly fail to capture the impact of this experience. This was not one room, or even a set of rooms, this was nearly every room in the house, floor-to-ceiling, lining door frames and window ledges, stacked neatly on shelves and piled onto beds, were rows upon rows upon rows of plushie monsters. Monsters. Of plush. I recognized most, but not all of them from cult classic sci-fi films to holiday specials to popular kid's cereal characters, but please picture (if you can) entering an entire three-story house covered floor-to-ceiling in stuffed animal monsters, including a home theater dedicated entirely to monster movies.
The upstairs home theater. I dubbed it "the safe room."
My son stopped dead in the doorway and wouldn't budge. My husband refused to go near the wall of mini-to-giant-sized Furbies. My daughter gleefully explored the walls looking for favorites like the Abominable Snowman and Fizzgig and Stellaluna. Me? I took pictures. I had the vague feeling that I'd either stepped into the house described in READY PLAYER ONE with the claustrophobia of DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS meets what it must have been like for Marcus in PAPER TOWNS in his parents' house filled with black Santas. Basically, it was surreal--like walking into a character's house, not something that belonged in real life, although that is what our books are based on. So: life imitating life imitating life. With Furbies.
Ever feel like that? (With or without the Furbies.) Actually, I'm pretty sure this is what my madness looks like from the outside. It's a humbling (and bizarrely fascinating) perspective. What do you think?
March 7, 2013
Where I Am Ridiculously Honest About Writing As A Career. (Emphasis on "Ridiculous.")
When I was a teacher, I'd ask kids what they wanted to be when they grew up (usually to feed into an art project or an All About Me poster for Open House or something) and most kids would pick doctors or sports figures--paleontologists or movie stars would run a close third--and when I asked them if they liked helping kids or saving animals, acting or playing basketball, many said that they didn't care about that, they cared about the money or the fame or the glamor. Heck, I don't blame them! TV and movies and glossy magazines make those high-profile careers look like lots of fun! And now that we have superstar-famous authors like J.K. Rowling and more books-to-movies being made every year, kids are saying that they want to be writers too! And I say, "Awesome!" but there's this same niggling fear that I had as a schoolteacher because I know that there's a pretty big difference between the dream and reality.
And let me say that what follows is not for kids. It's for adults and young adults who want to be writers.
Setting aside all the practical things like contracts and taxes and promotion and the like and simply focusing on writing, here's the big thing I want you to know: being a writer means that you write. A lot. It kind of goes with the territory. Sounds silly, but I can't say how many times I've heard someone say that they always wanted to be a writer, but they never could stick with it; meaning, of course, that they didn't want to keep writing. That's fine and good to know. Trust me, there's no reason to want to be a writer if you don't like writing. It's important to discover that you have made writing mean something else, something you want, that you think being a writer will give you--a mode of self-expression, legitimacy, respect, or, if we want to be perfectly honest, a little fame, fortune and glory for sitting at home in our pajamas sipping tea. That doesn't sound too bad, after all! But here's the thing: if you don't like writing, don't do it. This isn't like losing weight or going to the gym where the initial discomfort will bring future rewards because if you aren't comfortable writing, then the writing and rewriting and re-rewriting, and re-re-rewriting and doing so again and again until you are sick of your own words, not to mention the Sisyphean process of then editing and revising and tightening and touting and copyediting and blurbing and blogging in order to hopefully get the chance to do *more* writing, is simply not going to work for you in the long run. Why do that to yourself? Does that sounds glamorous? Let me tell you, those sports MVPs and movie stars are working hard to do what they make look effortless. Their (very long) day is crafted around honing their skills, working out or getting to the gym, getting up early and working until late, making three-point shots or scrimmage runs, saying lines or sitting in make-up trailers and rehearsing blocking over and over and over again to get it right, the ideas of "fresh" and "new" get old fast and I imagine every once in a not-so-great while the thought, "If I have to do this ONE MORE TIME..." flashes through their minds just as often as anyone else's.
Here's what being a writer looks like: you get up, go through your morning routine, then you sit down and you write until you're done writing for the day, get up, go through your end-of-the-day routine, go to bed, get up and do it again. Lather, rinse, repeat until you get to those magical words "The End." Then it goes through the editor, gets a pretty jacket, and magically appears on shelves and screens around the world. Sound simple enough? Yeah, well, that's probably what it looks like to the outside world. What isn't said is that writing requires you to a) perform creatively on demand and b) doing everything else around writing that directly, or indirectly, affects the writing even if it doesn't actually produce one word of writing. I imagine models have a tough time looking surprised at being hit with a bucket of glitter after the sixtieth or seventieth time of being made up, dressed up, lit up, hit, washed off, dried off, made up, lit up, hit, washed off, etc. but that's what they're there to do: look delightfully surprised at a faceful of glitter and get the shot. Writers sit down and some unknown magic is supposed to happen, opening up the inspirational floodgates and tapping into the Great Wavelength of the Muse Universe Beyond and the words just flow onto the page in a mad chorus-of-angels dash as seen on Castle and Romancing the Stone. And sometimes this happens. And other times, you sit down and nothing comes and instead of staring at a blank page, you surf the web or do the dishes or scrub the floors or the windows or decide to do a good deed and shovel the neighbor's walk or dedicate your day to rescuing stray wildebeests because you always wanted to try that someday... You get the idea. And yet, if you don't plow through those times, even knowing that you'll just as likely scrap everything you're typing that day, it won't get done. For every 1000 free throws, that basketball player is looking to learn something from each one--each success and each failure--striving to get better, better, best. For every 10,000 words, an author is just as likely to cut them all and start again, or rewrite them, or change course, adding a new subplot or cutting a secondary character, all in the pursuit of the writing.
And those are just the words on paper!
Then there is the honing of craft, reading books in our genre and books in the market and books about craft and books by the many authors we admire. There's learning by doing, by going to conferences, by meeting with writing groups, by doing daily prompts. There are courses and practices, communities and technologies, newest tools of the trade and old habits that die hard and if you're going to keep growing, and you're going to have to keep moving to keep up with the times that are a'changing! Don't forget all the research and backstory, the photo files and playlists should you be so inclined to keep your world consistent or your mood/sanity intact. And, should you care to indulge, there's your website, your blog, your twitter, your Tumblr, your fans (if you're lucky) and your online presence (if you're smart) and please don't forget to visit/comment/keep up/and make meaningful contribution to your friends' blogs and Twitters and Tumblrs and news as well as the book bloggers, professionals, and writing news sites that your frequent in order to stay on their radar and know as well that you are not alone. And if you're already down this road less-traveled, to check-in with your agent, your publisher, and their crew: your editor, your PR contact, the event coordinator and whomever is in charge of any foreign affairs because you are your own biggest advocate and being nice to your team is nice. Just remember to be careful not to gripe or bad-mouth anyone online, stay positive, be honest, keep consistent, and don't compare your journey to someone else's because that way lies madness and loss of brain cells you can't afford to spare. Do all that and don't forget: leave time for your own writing because as we all know it all comes down to your next book.
Got that? Excellent!
So you sit and write your story, bit by bit, turning off your inner editor as long as you can to get it done. You inch your way through the story for months at a time, maybe years, going back to make notes on what to tweak or change or cut, keeping disciplined for the long haul until you reach that final bit that says "The End." Huzzah! Now you put this book aside to marinate for a while and if you're lucky, you start on the next story that's been buzzing annoyingly in the back of your mind, or, if you're obsessive, you don't and begin to fret and worry and nitpick and needle and wheedle on this very same story you just put down as you begin to rewrite and re-read (and hopefully read aloud) and start hacking and slashing and killing your darlings and other violent euphemisms until it resembles something vaguely story-like and you're ready to show it to friends. Well, not friends, exactly. Showing your work to friends and family either is a testament to your relationships or your commitment to solitary confinement because most often these people don't want to hurt your feelings or end up sleeping on the couch. No, the friends you want are friends of your Big Picture who want to help your work get better and aren't the kind of friends who mind crushing your heart if you've left it pinned on your sleeve. These are critique partners and writer friends and agents and editors (who, by the way, don't magically appear) and this is what all those conferences and online communities and research were for--the not-writing part of writing--and are uniquely important. [P.S. If you don't have any of these sort of people and believe that you and only you can make your writing as good as it can be and if pressed, you might be willing to make *some* changes but will NEVER SELL OUT by changing your precious baby book, then good for you! I hope you like being your own best audience because that's pretty much the only person who will ever read it.]
Sorry, that bit was snarky. Onwards!
Now you sit and wait and worry about all that possibly could go wrong, second-guessing if you should have shown your work to anyone at this stage, let alone people whose opinions really matter, and wondering if you haven't been premature and WHAT WERE YOU THINKING sending it out when it's obviously not ready and wishing you could somehow Control-Alt-Delete it and take it back since your don't happen to have a Time-Turner on hand. Now you're comparing yourself to J.K. Rowling, Great. You try to ignore the constant refreshing that you're doing on your email and tromping to your mailbox, keeping an eye on the Inbox icon to see if anything's come in, driving yourself to distraction as you concentrate on not-thinking about the things you shouldn't be thinking about because it's too late now anyway and you'll never fly this carpet if you don't stop thinking of pink elephants. This entire process is magnified if this is something being sent to a prospective agent or editor or professional because now it's serious and if you're lucky, you start on the next story, or, if you're obsessive, you don't and begin to fret and worry and nitpick and needle and wheedle on this very same story you just put down in a sadistic bout of deja vu.
Sounds like fun? It gets better!
You've got mail! It's feedback (or a rejection or a request)! Hurrah! Now it's time to go back to your naughty book and start applying all the suggestions you think are worth considering at least 24 hours after you've read them the first time and balked in righteous indignation that anything was so wrong and nothing could be further from the truth and what do they know, anyway?! Feeling better? Good. So now: editing. You rewrite your story. Or tweak it and tenderly, hesitantly poke and prod at the edges until a few weeks or months into it you start shredding it in a fit of pique and end up rewriting it all again anyway, which is what you should have done in the first place. It's a very therapeutic process, especially if you're insane. Now do it again. And again. And again. And, if you're lucky, you'll land an agent with it who will suggest her own changes in order to interest an editor who will suggest his own changes and it will be up to you to keep making them in ridiculously short turn-around times after all this endless waiting, leaning on your critique partners and writer friends as well as your best friends and family for much-needed support [again, if you think you can do this alone, think again!] and each time you send it off for another round of consideration, feedback, edits, or whatnot, you're back at that familiar station at the corner of WHAT WAS I THINKING?!? and WHAT DO I DO NOW? Then, if the stars have aligned and the moon is full and a baby is born with one brown eye and one green and the collective breath of the world inhales once at the very same time, then your baby book goes through editing, line editing, copyediting, promotion, event-planning and the six weeks up to and after the scheduled launch date, you are writing more than you ever did in the collective pages of said book trying to get the word out there and when the tumult dies down you are exhausted in scattered piles of leftover swag, obsessively Googling yourself and refreshing stat pages like some rhesus monkey on experimental drugs, it occurs to you that this part of the publishing journey is over and you really should be working on that next project you've got rumbling around in the back of your head.
And that's sort of what it's like being a writer.
Honestly, you'd have to be a crazy person to want this.
Logical conclusion: writers are crazy people.
You are welcome to join us, but know that you want to be a writer because you love writing. You live and breathe writing. You can't imagine a life without writing. You can't NOT write. Because, as my very wise and funny friend once told me an older screenwriter said to him: It's like entering a pie-eating contest where the prize is more pie! So please be very, very sure that you like pie. There may be fame and fortune and glory, there may be respect and justification and working in your jammies, there may be movie deals and foreign rights and things you can't even dream of happening and achieving far beyond anything anyone could have imagined, but that's not a guarantee. If you're going to pursue a career in writing, the only guarantee is that you will be writing. A lot.
The End.
And let me say that what follows is not for kids. It's for adults and young adults who want to be writers.
Setting aside all the practical things like contracts and taxes and promotion and the like and simply focusing on writing, here's the big thing I want you to know: being a writer means that you write. A lot. It kind of goes with the territory. Sounds silly, but I can't say how many times I've heard someone say that they always wanted to be a writer, but they never could stick with it; meaning, of course, that they didn't want to keep writing. That's fine and good to know. Trust me, there's no reason to want to be a writer if you don't like writing. It's important to discover that you have made writing mean something else, something you want, that you think being a writer will give you--a mode of self-expression, legitimacy, respect, or, if we want to be perfectly honest, a little fame, fortune and glory for sitting at home in our pajamas sipping tea. That doesn't sound too bad, after all! But here's the thing: if you don't like writing, don't do it. This isn't like losing weight or going to the gym where the initial discomfort will bring future rewards because if you aren't comfortable writing, then the writing and rewriting and re-rewriting, and re-re-rewriting and doing so again and again until you are sick of your own words, not to mention the Sisyphean process of then editing and revising and tightening and touting and copyediting and blurbing and blogging in order to hopefully get the chance to do *more* writing, is simply not going to work for you in the long run. Why do that to yourself? Does that sounds glamorous? Let me tell you, those sports MVPs and movie stars are working hard to do what they make look effortless. Their (very long) day is crafted around honing their skills, working out or getting to the gym, getting up early and working until late, making three-point shots or scrimmage runs, saying lines or sitting in make-up trailers and rehearsing blocking over and over and over again to get it right, the ideas of "fresh" and "new" get old fast and I imagine every once in a not-so-great while the thought, "If I have to do this ONE MORE TIME..." flashes through their minds just as often as anyone else's.
Here's what being a writer looks like: you get up, go through your morning routine, then you sit down and you write until you're done writing for the day, get up, go through your end-of-the-day routine, go to bed, get up and do it again. Lather, rinse, repeat until you get to those magical words "The End." Then it goes through the editor, gets a pretty jacket, and magically appears on shelves and screens around the world. Sound simple enough? Yeah, well, that's probably what it looks like to the outside world. What isn't said is that writing requires you to a) perform creatively on demand and b) doing everything else around writing that directly, or indirectly, affects the writing even if it doesn't actually produce one word of writing. I imagine models have a tough time looking surprised at being hit with a bucket of glitter after the sixtieth or seventieth time of being made up, dressed up, lit up, hit, washed off, dried off, made up, lit up, hit, washed off, etc. but that's what they're there to do: look delightfully surprised at a faceful of glitter and get the shot. Writers sit down and some unknown magic is supposed to happen, opening up the inspirational floodgates and tapping into the Great Wavelength of the Muse Universe Beyond and the words just flow onto the page in a mad chorus-of-angels dash as seen on Castle and Romancing the Stone. And sometimes this happens. And other times, you sit down and nothing comes and instead of staring at a blank page, you surf the web or do the dishes or scrub the floors or the windows or decide to do a good deed and shovel the neighbor's walk or dedicate your day to rescuing stray wildebeests because you always wanted to try that someday... You get the idea. And yet, if you don't plow through those times, even knowing that you'll just as likely scrap everything you're typing that day, it won't get done. For every 1000 free throws, that basketball player is looking to learn something from each one--each success and each failure--striving to get better, better, best. For every 10,000 words, an author is just as likely to cut them all and start again, or rewrite them, or change course, adding a new subplot or cutting a secondary character, all in the pursuit of the writing.
And those are just the words on paper!
Then there is the honing of craft, reading books in our genre and books in the market and books about craft and books by the many authors we admire. There's learning by doing, by going to conferences, by meeting with writing groups, by doing daily prompts. There are courses and practices, communities and technologies, newest tools of the trade and old habits that die hard and if you're going to keep growing, and you're going to have to keep moving to keep up with the times that are a'changing! Don't forget all the research and backstory, the photo files and playlists should you be so inclined to keep your world consistent or your mood/sanity intact. And, should you care to indulge, there's your website, your blog, your twitter, your Tumblr, your fans (if you're lucky) and your online presence (if you're smart) and please don't forget to visit/comment/keep up/and make meaningful contribution to your friends' blogs and Twitters and Tumblrs and news as well as the book bloggers, professionals, and writing news sites that your frequent in order to stay on their radar and know as well that you are not alone. And if you're already down this road less-traveled, to check-in with your agent, your publisher, and their crew: your editor, your PR contact, the event coordinator and whomever is in charge of any foreign affairs because you are your own biggest advocate and being nice to your team is nice. Just remember to be careful not to gripe or bad-mouth anyone online, stay positive, be honest, keep consistent, and don't compare your journey to someone else's because that way lies madness and loss of brain cells you can't afford to spare. Do all that and don't forget: leave time for your own writing because as we all know it all comes down to your next book.
Got that? Excellent!
So you sit and write your story, bit by bit, turning off your inner editor as long as you can to get it done. You inch your way through the story for months at a time, maybe years, going back to make notes on what to tweak or change or cut, keeping disciplined for the long haul until you reach that final bit that says "The End." Huzzah! Now you put this book aside to marinate for a while and if you're lucky, you start on the next story that's been buzzing annoyingly in the back of your mind, or, if you're obsessive, you don't and begin to fret and worry and nitpick and needle and wheedle on this very same story you just put down as you begin to rewrite and re-read (and hopefully read aloud) and start hacking and slashing and killing your darlings and other violent euphemisms until it resembles something vaguely story-like and you're ready to show it to friends. Well, not friends, exactly. Showing your work to friends and family either is a testament to your relationships or your commitment to solitary confinement because most often these people don't want to hurt your feelings or end up sleeping on the couch. No, the friends you want are friends of your Big Picture who want to help your work get better and aren't the kind of friends who mind crushing your heart if you've left it pinned on your sleeve. These are critique partners and writer friends and agents and editors (who, by the way, don't magically appear) and this is what all those conferences and online communities and research were for--the not-writing part of writing--and are uniquely important. [P.S. If you don't have any of these sort of people and believe that you and only you can make your writing as good as it can be and if pressed, you might be willing to make *some* changes but will NEVER SELL OUT by changing your precious baby book, then good for you! I hope you like being your own best audience because that's pretty much the only person who will ever read it.]
Sorry, that bit was snarky. Onwards!
Now you sit and wait and worry about all that possibly could go wrong, second-guessing if you should have shown your work to anyone at this stage, let alone people whose opinions really matter, and wondering if you haven't been premature and WHAT WERE YOU THINKING sending it out when it's obviously not ready and wishing you could somehow Control-Alt-Delete it and take it back since your don't happen to have a Time-Turner on hand. Now you're comparing yourself to J.K. Rowling, Great. You try to ignore the constant refreshing that you're doing on your email and tromping to your mailbox, keeping an eye on the Inbox icon to see if anything's come in, driving yourself to distraction as you concentrate on not-thinking about the things you shouldn't be thinking about because it's too late now anyway and you'll never fly this carpet if you don't stop thinking of pink elephants. This entire process is magnified if this is something being sent to a prospective agent or editor or professional because now it's serious and if you're lucky, you start on the next story, or, if you're obsessive, you don't and begin to fret and worry and nitpick and needle and wheedle on this very same story you just put down in a sadistic bout of deja vu.
Sounds like fun? It gets better!
You've got mail! It's feedback (or a rejection or a request)! Hurrah! Now it's time to go back to your naughty book and start applying all the suggestions you think are worth considering at least 24 hours after you've read them the first time and balked in righteous indignation that anything was so wrong and nothing could be further from the truth and what do they know, anyway?! Feeling better? Good. So now: editing. You rewrite your story. Or tweak it and tenderly, hesitantly poke and prod at the edges until a few weeks or months into it you start shredding it in a fit of pique and end up rewriting it all again anyway, which is what you should have done in the first place. It's a very therapeutic process, especially if you're insane. Now do it again. And again. And again. And, if you're lucky, you'll land an agent with it who will suggest her own changes in order to interest an editor who will suggest his own changes and it will be up to you to keep making them in ridiculously short turn-around times after all this endless waiting, leaning on your critique partners and writer friends as well as your best friends and family for much-needed support [again, if you think you can do this alone, think again!] and each time you send it off for another round of consideration, feedback, edits, or whatnot, you're back at that familiar station at the corner of WHAT WAS I THINKING?!? and WHAT DO I DO NOW? Then, if the stars have aligned and the moon is full and a baby is born with one brown eye and one green and the collective breath of the world inhales once at the very same time, then your baby book goes through editing, line editing, copyediting, promotion, event-planning and the six weeks up to and after the scheduled launch date, you are writing more than you ever did in the collective pages of said book trying to get the word out there and when the tumult dies down you are exhausted in scattered piles of leftover swag, obsessively Googling yourself and refreshing stat pages like some rhesus monkey on experimental drugs, it occurs to you that this part of the publishing journey is over and you really should be working on that next project you've got rumbling around in the back of your head.
And that's sort of what it's like being a writer.
Honestly, you'd have to be a crazy person to want this.
Logical conclusion: writers are crazy people.
You are welcome to join us, but know that you want to be a writer because you love writing. You live and breathe writing. You can't imagine a life without writing. You can't NOT write. Because, as my very wise and funny friend once told me an older screenwriter said to him: It's like entering a pie-eating contest where the prize is more pie! So please be very, very sure that you like pie. There may be fame and fortune and glory, there may be respect and justification and working in your jammies, there may be movie deals and foreign rights and things you can't even dream of happening and achieving far beyond anything anyone could have imagined, but that's not a guarantee. If you're going to pursue a career in writing, the only guarantee is that you will be writing. A lot.
The End.
March 5, 2013
Wake Up Inspired
I find that however I open my day affects the rest of my day. In my case, my morning is largely dependent on how the kids are doing getting up and ready for school, but when I'm driving them to their various destinations, I'm careful not to put on the news because--let's face it--it's not a good way to greet the morning. It's often loud and sensationalistic, and even the best reporting tends to focus on shootings, war, murder and violence. (It's what gets ratings and certainly happens, I'm not naive, but when we measure history in terms of death and conquering, it's no wonder how we got that way.) But for me, I can't function cleanly with my blank page and while what I write is hardly all roses and song, I need to feel inspired by the world around me and not dragged down into Count Rugen's pit of despair. I'm perfectly capable of wallowing in my own despair, thank you. What I need is to think fresh thoughts, be excited by something new, start the gears turning and the inspirational popcorn popping--that's why I started a new practice for myself: I get TED.
If, by some miracle, you haven't heard of TED talks, imagine a room full of the most interesting people on the planet sharing amazing insights on a variety of things, standing up and talking to you for 10 minutes each. These things are things that make you wonder, make you gasp, think of things in a new light, consider something you thought forgotten, a twist on an assumption, a reflection on a slice of the world, or a way of thinking about the universe and its people that you may never have thought of before on your own. It's as if a new door opens, inviting you to think in fresh directions and wander down untrodden paths, and even if it's something you knew (or thought you knew) or believed already, it's always good to hear it said aloud in a new voice that doesn't live between your ears because then you never know what sparks it might shake loose. TED features world leaders, visionaries, CEOs and activists, there are scientists, theorists, astronauts, underwear models, game designers, politicians, authors and even everyday smart folks. There are people who you'd never get to meet on the TED stage and people you might see every day. There are laughs and smiles, stunned silences and respectful sighs, and you can hear the wheels turning as the words light up something inside and is being passed like a candle flame from person to person to camera to you. This is the kind of energy I need to greet my day and my page and the people around me.
So if you're anything like me and would click the Dislike button on most mornings if you could, you might want to get TED instead. Start your day off thoughtful, appreciative, and completely inspired in 10 minutes a day.
It's an idea worth spreading! ;-)
If, by some miracle, you haven't heard of TED talks, imagine a room full of the most interesting people on the planet sharing amazing insights on a variety of things, standing up and talking to you for 10 minutes each. These things are things that make you wonder, make you gasp, think of things in a new light, consider something you thought forgotten, a twist on an assumption, a reflection on a slice of the world, or a way of thinking about the universe and its people that you may never have thought of before on your own. It's as if a new door opens, inviting you to think in fresh directions and wander down untrodden paths, and even if it's something you knew (or thought you knew) or believed already, it's always good to hear it said aloud in a new voice that doesn't live between your ears because then you never know what sparks it might shake loose. TED features world leaders, visionaries, CEOs and activists, there are scientists, theorists, astronauts, underwear models, game designers, politicians, authors and even everyday smart folks. There are people who you'd never get to meet on the TED stage and people you might see every day. There are laughs and smiles, stunned silences and respectful sighs, and you can hear the wheels turning as the words light up something inside and is being passed like a candle flame from person to person to camera to you. This is the kind of energy I need to greet my day and my page and the people around me.
So if you're anything like me and would click the Dislike button on most mornings if you could, you might want to get TED instead. Start your day off thoughtful, appreciative, and completely inspired in 10 minutes a day.
It's an idea worth spreading! ;-)
March 1, 2013
Happy March!
Okay, so it isn't something sparkly like May Day or New Year's Eve, it doesn't herald the beginning of a shiny season like winter or spring, and there's not much going on--it's just...March. March is somewhere stuck in-between, not quite warm enough to enjoy the sunshine and not quite cold enough to enjoy the snow; March is grey and drippy, resembling slush on the road. But there are winks of red and green in against the tired white and the breeze smells more like rain than snow; it's a little thing, but holds the promise of bigger things coming. And sometimes it's nice to celebrate the little things: a couple of hundred words of progress, one room finally cleaned and vacuumed, the last thing scratched-off of the ever-growing To Do list, or even something as simple as hanging a print on a blank wall.
Proof positive that the little things can bring great satisfaction. This looks like a real room!
(Note the sleeping cats are not impressed.)
So this Friday, March 1st, treasure the little things because you never know what will inspire your next Big Thing!*
* For example, this morning my daughter was grumbling and mumbling about getting up after an exciting day yesterday when her class got to speak to astronauts in the International Space Station. She was moving slowly, still on about galaxies and microgravity and planets all while I struggled to find a pair of pants somewhere in her messy room. What came out of my mouth was, "I know that we're all stardust, but you have to wear pants to school." And if that's not the inspiration for something wonderful, I don't know what is!
Proof positive that the little things can bring great satisfaction. This looks like a real room!
(Note the sleeping cats are not impressed.)
So this Friday, March 1st, treasure the little things because you never know what will inspire your next Big Thing!*
* For example, this morning my daughter was grumbling and mumbling about getting up after an exciting day yesterday when her class got to speak to astronauts in the International Space Station. She was moving slowly, still on about galaxies and microgravity and planets all while I struggled to find a pair of pants somewhere in her messy room. What came out of my mouth was, "I know that we're all stardust, but you have to wear pants to school." And if that's not the inspiration for something wonderful, I don't know what is!
February 27, 2013
Commit Yourself
I have a framed print sitting on my couch. I've debated buying it for years, having seen it in this store and that. I researched the best price, measured the dimensions of the wall, compared colors to see if it would go with the couch and the new throw pillows. I agonized over the decision, panning through websites and comparing options and even now, as it is braced against the back of the couch and the wall, the hardware and levels and hammer sitting on the floor beside it, I still am having trouble thinking "Is this the right decision? What if I'm wrong?"
And that's when it's time to put hammer to nail, both metaphorically and literally.
Research is one of the best and worst things about writing. You can learn so many things that you never thought about while in school, opening up entire worlds of knowledge and fascination, speaking to experts and enthusiasts, filling pages with pretty pictures and glossy images that create the depth and breadth we love about swimming in really great world-building and making a character solidly 3-D, but here's the thing: you have to commit to the story. Writing the story is what all this research is about so at the end of the day, this had better be about the writing and not the research. Science for science's sake is all well and good (so says my little Mad Scientist Ninja Fairy Princess), but writing is words for the sake of the story. You have to climb out of the Internet vortex. You have to trust yourself and your story. You have to give in. You have to let go. You have to get writing.
Commit.
Hammer to nail.
(And if that writing advice is too harsh for you, you can try a little tenderness:)
Sorry, the Commitments reference was just too good to pass up & now I've got this song stuck in my head.
And that's when it's time to put hammer to nail, both metaphorically and literally.
Research is one of the best and worst things about writing. You can learn so many things that you never thought about while in school, opening up entire worlds of knowledge and fascination, speaking to experts and enthusiasts, filling pages with pretty pictures and glossy images that create the depth and breadth we love about swimming in really great world-building and making a character solidly 3-D, but here's the thing: you have to commit to the story. Writing the story is what all this research is about so at the end of the day, this had better be about the writing and not the research. Science for science's sake is all well and good (so says my little Mad Scientist Ninja Fairy Princess), but writing is words for the sake of the story. You have to climb out of the Internet vortex. You have to trust yourself and your story. You have to give in. You have to let go. You have to get writing.
Commit.
Hammer to nail.
(And if that writing advice is too harsh for you, you can try a little tenderness:)
Sorry, the Commitments reference was just too good to pass up & now I've got this song stuck in my head.
Commit
I have a framed print sitting on my couch. I've debated buying it for years, having seen it in this store and that. I researched the best price, measured the dimensions of the wall, compared colors to see if it would go with the couch and the new throw pillows. I agonized over the decision, panning through websites and comparing options and even now, as it is braced against the back of the couch and the wall, the hardware and levels and hammer sitting on the floor beside it, I still am having trouble thinking "Is this the right decision? What if I'm wrong?"
And that's when it's time to put hammer to nail, both metaphorically and literally.
Research is one of the best and worst things about writing. You can learn so many things that you never thought about while in school, opening up entire worlds of knowledge and fascination, speaking to experts and enthusiasts, filling pages with pretty pictures and glossy images that create the depth and breadth we love about swimming in really great world-building and making a character solidly 3-D, but here's the thing: you have to commit to the story. Writing the story is what all this research is about so at the end of the day, this had better be about the writing and not the research. Science for science's sake is all well and good (so says my little Mad Scientist Ninja Fairy Princess), but writing is words for the sake of the story. You have to climb out of the Internet vortex. You have to trust yourself and your story. You have to give in. You have to let go. You have to get writing.
Commit.
Hammer to nail.
(And if that writing advice is too harsh for you, you can try a little tenderness:)
Sorry, the Commitments reference was just too good to pass up & now I've got this song stuck in my head.
And that's when it's time to put hammer to nail, both metaphorically and literally.
Research is one of the best and worst things about writing. You can learn so many things that you never thought about while in school, opening up entire worlds of knowledge and fascination, speaking to experts and enthusiasts, filling pages with pretty pictures and glossy images that create the depth and breadth we love about swimming in really great world-building and making a character solidly 3-D, but here's the thing: you have to commit to the story. Writing the story is what all this research is about so at the end of the day, this had better be about the writing and not the research. Science for science's sake is all well and good (so says my little Mad Scientist Ninja Fairy Princess), but writing is words for the sake of the story. You have to climb out of the Internet vortex. You have to trust yourself and your story. You have to give in. You have to let go. You have to get writing.
Commit.
Hammer to nail.
(And if that writing advice is too harsh for you, you can try a little tenderness:)
Sorry, the Commitments reference was just too good to pass up & now I've got this song stuck in my head.
February 25, 2013
Baby Got Back!
First of all, congratulations to
damihjva
for winning the Eat Your Heart Out prize pack! I would have announced this earlier if it hadn't been for the flu/sinus infection/random tagalong cold that decided to take up residence in my brain. So a great hooplah of hoorays as it's better late than never!
Secondly, if you haven't seen me here in a while, it was because I was promoting my friend and critique partner, Maurissa Guibord's new book, REVEL, and interviewing fellow Inkie, Anna Staniszewski's second book in her fantasy series, MY EPIC FAIRY TALE FAIL as well as doing homey, domestic mommy things mostly involving Angry Birds cut-outs and birthday cakes. Such is the glamorous life I lead.
But hark: I have news! The Harlequin Teen Dream Team has just released the back cover art* of INDELIBLE along with flapcopy on a gorgeous burnt-umber background, which looks a lot like this:
Don't stare at it just because it's beautiful, remember: it's what's inside that counts!
I keep looking at it going "oooOOOooo!" in my head.
I'm very proud of this story because it's not your love-at-first-sight or destined-to-be soul mate thing, it's not the immortal older guy swooping in with confidence and swagger to show the mortal girl the way to love thing, and it doesn't have the "usual suspects" fantasy cast of fairy tale characters as I borrowed some of my favorite myths from around the globe to populate the last vestiges of magic clinging onto our world with tooth and claw. And I love them! I love Ink's blatant honesty, Inq's carefree madness, Graus Claude's proprietary and proper etiquette, and Kurt's no-nonsense efficiency. Then there's Monica's friendship, Stef's brotherly love, Mr. Malone's parental strengths and gaps, and Joy's, well, everything. She is making the very best of every bad situation (of which she's had more than her fair share), and we meet Joy on the cusp of her becoming Who She Is and figuring out what that means no matter what the company, no matter what the circumstances, and that's someone I can root for with all of my heart & I can't wait to share her with you!
And she would totally approve if you stared.
* If you want to remember what the front looks like, please see userpic!
Secondly, if you haven't seen me here in a while, it was because I was promoting my friend and critique partner, Maurissa Guibord's new book, REVEL, and interviewing fellow Inkie, Anna Staniszewski's second book in her fantasy series, MY EPIC FAIRY TALE FAIL as well as doing homey, domestic mommy things mostly involving Angry Birds cut-outs and birthday cakes. Such is the glamorous life I lead.
But hark: I have news! The Harlequin Teen Dream Team has just released the back cover art* of INDELIBLE along with flapcopy on a gorgeous burnt-umber background, which looks a lot like this:
Don't stare at it just because it's beautiful, remember: it's what's inside that counts!
I keep looking at it going "oooOOOooo!" in my head.
I'm very proud of this story because it's not your love-at-first-sight or destined-to-be soul mate thing, it's not the immortal older guy swooping in with confidence and swagger to show the mortal girl the way to love thing, and it doesn't have the "usual suspects" fantasy cast of fairy tale characters as I borrowed some of my favorite myths from around the globe to populate the last vestiges of magic clinging onto our world with tooth and claw. And I love them! I love Ink's blatant honesty, Inq's carefree madness, Graus Claude's proprietary and proper etiquette, and Kurt's no-nonsense efficiency. Then there's Monica's friendship, Stef's brotherly love, Mr. Malone's parental strengths and gaps, and Joy's, well, everything. She is making the very best of every bad situation (of which she's had more than her fair share), and we meet Joy on the cusp of her becoming Who She Is and figuring out what that means no matter what the company, no matter what the circumstances, and that's someone I can root for with all of my heart & I can't wait to share her with you!
And she would totally approve if you stared.
* If you want to remember what the front looks like, please see userpic!
February 14, 2013
Eat Your Heart Out Contest! Spread the Love! Win a Prize!
Did you think the time for contests was over? Oh no, my dears, it's Valentine's Day! Hallmark and the associated consumer press have declared today to be the celebration of ~LOVE~ and who am I to refuse? Hottie YA romances are all the rage this year and with INDELIBLE only months away, I wanted to spread the word and share the love by asking you to share it with me!
Hence the inspiration for this ♥♥♥ EAT YOUR HEART OUT! ♥♥♥ contest!
So very tempting I could just TAKE A BITE!
One Grand Prize winner will receive:
- a hardcover copy of ALICE IN ZOMBIELAND, Book One of the White Rabbit Chronicles from Harlequin Teen for everyone who's ravenous for a good zombie-fighting love story;
- a hardcover copy of HAPPY BUNNY: LOVE BITES! for anyone who feels snarky this season;
- a heart-shaped box of chocolates because, well, that's what love is for;
- and 2 coveted recipes from my own kitchen: Sweetheart Salad (for when you're nice) & Double-Chocolate Brownies (for when you're naughty) [mouth-watering, gooey GFCF adaption available!]
But first, I'm going to tease you a little with a sneak-peek excerpt from INDELIBLE's "It Couple" Joy & Ink:
The roles of Joy and Ink will be imagined as a sunny Ellen Page and a young Johnny Depp with haunting, all-black eyes.
* * *
“ANYTHING FOR ME?” Joy glanced over her monitor at Ink, then spun around to check that everyone else in study hall was busy clicking mice and keys.
“What are you doing?” Joy hiss-whispered, forgetting the silent treatment. “Go away!”
“No one can see me. Or hear me,” Ink said. “You have a message?”
Glaring, Joy yanked out her notebook and tore off the page. The rip of paper rent the quiet, but no one looked up. She held it out, but Ink shook his head.
“Not here.”
Joy grated through clenched teeth, “I’m in class...”
“It will only take a second,” he said and disappeared.
Joy sighed and stuffed the note into her pocket, then reluctantly asked the senior proctor if she could use the bathroom. Grabbing the bright pink hall pass, she slipped quietly out the door. Ink was waiting for her by the fire extinguisher.
She dug out the paper and handed it over.
Ink took it and read it quickly, then handed it back.
“Easily done,” he said. “Ready to go?”
“What? No!” Joy whispered angrily. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Ink glanced around in mock surprise. “No.”
“Well, I am,” Joy insisted. “This is school. I can’t go anywhere right now.”
Ink opened his wallet and drew out a thin knife. “That is where you are mistaken,” he said. Joy stepped back. Was he going to gut her right there in Hall C? Somehow she didn’t think so, and the more she watched him, the more she thought that he didn’t look menacing—he looked like he was being clever. Ink twirled his blade with a hint of mischief. Joy hesitated, wondering what he was up to.
Ink slashed, acting as if he didn’t care whether she was impressed, but obviously pleased that she was as he peeled back a layer of nothing. A thin membrane of space hung loosely in midair.
He’d cut away a flap of the world.
Joy stared at it and him and the school and what once was.
Ink offered his hand, smooth as glass.
“Come with me,” he said.
“I—I can’t,” Joy said, but found that she’d somehow already stepped forward. It was all too impossible as he slit the door wider and they walked together into nothing at all.
The breach disappeared with a sharp scent, like limes.
* * *
Tempted? Intrigued? Hungry for more? Well ♥♥♥ EAT YOUR HEART OUT, BABY! ♥♥♥ Here's how to play and WIN!
1) Tweet about it! Or copy and paste this tweet here:
This Valentine's Day EAT YOUR HEART OUT! Pre-order Indelible by @dawnmetcalf !! http://amzn.to/VVEIzi
2) "Like" Indelible on its Facebook page
3) Put Indelible on your "To Read" shelf on Goodreads, Shelfari or LibraryThing.
4) Link to this contest on your Twitter, FB, or blog: http://bit.ly/VWttGX
5) Leave your entry, including where you spread the word & your email*, in the comments below.
* If you're ever uncomfortable leaving your email, you can always email me directly at Dawn (dot) Metcalf (at) gmail, Subject: Eat Your Heart Out!
Of course, if you pre-order your own copy of Indelible, I'll love you forever, but telling me about it will *also* qualify you for an extra-special, super-secret goodie ONLY available to those who pre-order. (Please include proof of pre-order and your email addy in the comments to enter!) Whatever you do to help spread the word, I'm be grateful and will give +1 entry for each WoM "ping" from the above options that you include in your comment below. Be sure to include your email so I can contact you on Wednesday, February 20th to let you know if YOU'RE the winner!
It's easy to enter & spread the love for INDELIBLE available for pre-order NOW!
Good luck! Spread the love! And have a Happy Valentine's Day!!!
Hence the inspiration for this ♥♥♥ EAT YOUR HEART OUT! ♥♥♥ contest!
So very tempting I could just TAKE A BITE!
One Grand Prize winner will receive:
- a hardcover copy of ALICE IN ZOMBIELAND, Book One of the White Rabbit Chronicles from Harlequin Teen for everyone who's ravenous for a good zombie-fighting love story;
- a hardcover copy of HAPPY BUNNY: LOVE BITES! for anyone who feels snarky this season;
- a heart-shaped box of chocolates because, well, that's what love is for;
- and 2 coveted recipes from my own kitchen: Sweetheart Salad (for when you're nice) & Double-Chocolate Brownies (for when you're naughty) [mouth-watering, gooey GFCF adaption available!]
But first, I'm going to tease you a little with a sneak-peek excerpt from INDELIBLE's "It Couple" Joy & Ink:
The roles of Joy and Ink will be imagined as a sunny Ellen Page and a young Johnny Depp with haunting, all-black eyes.
* * *
“ANYTHING FOR ME?” Joy glanced over her monitor at Ink, then spun around to check that everyone else in study hall was busy clicking mice and keys.
“What are you doing?” Joy hiss-whispered, forgetting the silent treatment. “Go away!”
“No one can see me. Or hear me,” Ink said. “You have a message?”
Glaring, Joy yanked out her notebook and tore off the page. The rip of paper rent the quiet, but no one looked up. She held it out, but Ink shook his head.
“Not here.”
Joy grated through clenched teeth, “I’m in class...”
“It will only take a second,” he said and disappeared.
Joy sighed and stuffed the note into her pocket, then reluctantly asked the senior proctor if she could use the bathroom. Grabbing the bright pink hall pass, she slipped quietly out the door. Ink was waiting for her by the fire extinguisher.
She dug out the paper and handed it over.
Ink took it and read it quickly, then handed it back.
“Easily done,” he said. “Ready to go?”
“What? No!” Joy whispered angrily. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Ink glanced around in mock surprise. “No.”
“Well, I am,” Joy insisted. “This is school. I can’t go anywhere right now.”
Ink opened his wallet and drew out a thin knife. “That is where you are mistaken,” he said. Joy stepped back. Was he going to gut her right there in Hall C? Somehow she didn’t think so, and the more she watched him, the more she thought that he didn’t look menacing—he looked like he was being clever. Ink twirled his blade with a hint of mischief. Joy hesitated, wondering what he was up to.
Ink slashed, acting as if he didn’t care whether she was impressed, but obviously pleased that she was as he peeled back a layer of nothing. A thin membrane of space hung loosely in midair.
He’d cut away a flap of the world.
Joy stared at it and him and the school and what once was.
Ink offered his hand, smooth as glass.
“Come with me,” he said.
“I—I can’t,” Joy said, but found that she’d somehow already stepped forward. It was all too impossible as he slit the door wider and they walked together into nothing at all.
The breach disappeared with a sharp scent, like limes.
* * *
Tempted? Intrigued? Hungry for more? Well ♥♥♥ EAT YOUR HEART OUT, BABY! ♥♥♥ Here's how to play and WIN!
1) Tweet about it! Or copy and paste this tweet here:
This Valentine's Day EAT YOUR HEART OUT! Pre-order Indelible by @dawnmetcalf !! http://amzn.to/VVEIzi
2) "Like" Indelible on its Facebook page
3) Put Indelible on your "To Read" shelf on Goodreads, Shelfari or LibraryThing.
4) Link to this contest on your Twitter, FB, or blog: http://bit.ly/VWttGX
5) Leave your entry, including where you spread the word & your email*, in the comments below.
* If you're ever uncomfortable leaving your email, you can always email me directly at Dawn (dot) Metcalf (at) gmail, Subject: Eat Your Heart Out!
Of course, if you pre-order your own copy of Indelible, I'll love you forever, but telling me about it will *also* qualify you for an extra-special, super-secret goodie ONLY available to those who pre-order. (Please include proof of pre-order and your email addy in the comments to enter!) Whatever you do to help spread the word, I'm be grateful and will give +1 entry for each WoM "ping" from the above options that you include in your comment below. Be sure to include your email so I can contact you on Wednesday, February 20th to let you know if YOU'RE the winner!
It's easy to enter & spread the love for INDELIBLE available for pre-order NOW!
Good luck! Spread the love! And have a Happy Valentine's Day!!!
February 12, 2013
We Have A Winner!
And the winner of the REVEL Sparkly Sea Glass Contest is:
*** Ashley Gonzalez! ***
CONGRATULATIONS!!!
And if you didn't win, you can still pick up a copy of REVEL, which in stores today!
*** Ashley Gonzalez! ***
CONGRATULATIONS!!!
And if you didn't win, you can still pick up a copy of REVEL, which in stores today!
