S. Evan Townsend's Blog, page 107

Continuous Improvement.

Back in my corporate days, I worked in quality.  Without getting into too much detail there is a concept in quality called "continuous improvement." This is where you set up systems that ensure your processes and procedures always get better yielding fewer mistakes, fewer off-spec or off-grade product, and saving the company money.  The "Plan, Do, Check, Act" cycle portrayed at left was one of the tools used.  Because if you don't continuously improve, your competitor who does will sell better products for less money and take your customers away costing you profits and perhaps even killing your company.  Think Japanese automakers versus U.S. automakers in the 1970s and '80s.  Japanese industries took these precepts to heart after World War II which is why in less than a generation they went from "They make crap" to "They make the best stuff."

As a writer, you should also be striving for continuous improvement. I know I do. Even best-selling authors are very likely trying to write better all the time.  If they don't, they won't stay best-selling very long (this is, I think what happened to Tom Clancy; he got lazy).
For example, after my first couple of novels were published ( Hammer of Thor and Agent of Artifice ), just for fun I went to this word cloud website and made word clouds from the edited manuscripts.  And here's what I found: Word Cloud for Hammer of Thor
Word Cloud for Agent of ArtificeAnd I noticed that I apparently used the word "looked" a lot.  So now I'm on a mission to eliminate it by instead of saying "He looked" saying "He glanced" "He stared" "He scowled" "He squinted" pretty much anything but "looked."
Then my writers' group told me I should avoid adverbs.  So I do that, too.
Lately I'm on a mission to avoid the word "seemed" because I have noticed I use it way too much.  I don't have to say "The room seemed charged with her power" (a line from Gods of Strife ) but "The room was charged with her power."
If you aren't striving to improve you're writing (and I don't care how many books you've sold) you aren't going to get better.  And all the writers who are working hard to improve their writing are going to be a better writer than you.  And you'll be left in the dust.

Flash Fiction Friday: George Washington's Body

Today's Flash Fiction Friday in honor of Independence Day, has a patriotic theme.  It's called "George Washington's Body."

They broke through the last gate and pushed it open,  After more than 200 years it screeched like a miserable banshee on the barrows of Ireland.

"Shhhhh," John whispered.  "The guard will hear."

Jack rolled his eyes.  The guard was at least 80 years old and on the other side of the Mount Vernon complex.  It would take him at least half an hour to get here as slow as he walked.

"Why are we here again?" Jack asked.

"To prove my thesis that they laughed at."

Jack nodded.  He didn't really care, John paid well, having a trust fund apparently, and if he wanted to break into George Washington's tomb, Jack was going to help "facilitate" that (in John's words).

Jack had spent months casing the joint.  Security was a joke at night.  One octogenarian watchman who walked around the grounds.  Slowly walked around the grounds.  He wasn't due in this part for at least an hour.  Jack glanced at his watch.  Make the 55 minutes.  Plenty of time.

"Your thesis," Jack said.  It wasn't a question.  He walked farther into the dark tomb.  It did occur to him that no one had probably been here since Washington's body was entombed in, what was it, 1799 if he remembered right from his research.

"Yes," John hissed, following Jack.  "My thesis, which I proved through the historical record, is that George Washington is an alien."

Jack had a difficult time not laughing himself.  But his employer might take offense.  "Okay," he said, hoping that would end the discussion.

It didn't.  "First of all," John started reciting, "Washington was preternaturally tall.  Six feet two inches.  Tall today, back then nearly a giant."

Jack was half listening, thinking they buried the father of the country awfully deep, still walking forward, holidng the flashlight.

"Second," John continued, "He couldn't have children which indicates he's another species other then human."

"Or couldn't get a boner," Jack mumbled.

"Third," John kept talking, either not hearing or ignoring Jack, "He had horses shot out from under him, bullet holes in the coat, once his hat was shot off according to some reports.  That indicates advance technology, a shield or some sort.  A force field."

Jack pretty much stopped listening because they'd come to the end of the tunnel to a room with what looked like a stone coffin.  Jack inwardly groaned at how heave the lid would be.  "We're here," he said.

John came up beside him and fumbled with his digital camera.  "If he's an alien, it should be obvious from the bone structure," he breathed.

"Help me get this lid off," Jack growled, and leaned against it.  John, he thought, couldn't weigh more than 100 pounds but he pushed as well as he could agaisnt the lid.  It budged, then started sliding which made moving it easier.  It fell off the coffin and crashed to the stone floor.

Jack shone his light in the coffin, expecting to see bones and clothing fragments and not much else.

The clothing fragments were there but the body was intact, whole, almost looked as if Washington were merely asleep.

John gasped.  "See, that's not natural."  He took a picture with the camera's flash on.

Washington opened his eyes.  He sat up and looked around.

"Who the devil are you two?"

John fainted.  Jack looked at the man who had been dead for 215 years, supposedly.  "That's complicated."

"Well, thank you, good sir," Washington said.  "I've been inactivated for years, 215 according to my internal clock. That bright flash as activated me again.  What was that?"

"Um, the flash of a camera," Jack said.

"Oh," Washington replied, not acting at all surprised.  "And I see you are holding an artificial light.  Electrical powered?"

""Uh, batteries, yeah."

"Excellent," Washington said.  "And you've come to take me back."

"Back where, sir?" Jack asked.

"My planet, good man.  After all, I've been wating two centuries to be rescued from this dirt ball."

"You're and alien?"

"No," Washington said, "I'm an American.  But I'm also from another planet the orbits another star.  Do you understand that?"

"Like Star Trek?"  Jack suddenly wished he'd watched more science fiction.

"I assure you, sir, I don't know of what you speak.  I get the feeling you are not here to rescue me."

"Uh, no, we're here to-"  Jack decided it was best not to explain why exactly they were their.

John stirred at that moment, and tried to get off the floor but saw Washington sitting up and fainted again.

"Well, then may you please put my coffin cover back on?" Washington asked.  "I guess I have to wait longer for rescue."

"Sure," Jack said.

"And what of your friend?" Washington asked.

"I'll let him sleep.  Apparently his thesis was correct."

Washington frowned.  "Well, then good day, sir," he said and lay back down.

Jack ran out of the tomb as fast as he could, leaving Washington and John behind.

Flash Fiction Friday: The Red Door

Today's Flash Fiction Friday starts with a quote:

"I remember my own childhood vividly . . . I knew terrible things.  But I knew I mustn't let let adults know I knew them. It would terrify them" -- Maurice Sendak, author of Where the Wild Things Are

"Mommy?" Joey asked.

His mother turned and smiled, hoping this wasn't another excuse to stay up past his bedtime.  "Yes, dear?" she asked, almost keeping the annoyance out of her voice.  She hoped her son didn't notice.

"Can you close the closet door, please?" Joey asked, pulling the covers up to his chin and looking at the open door.  It was an older house and the closet door was just a smaller version of the door that led to the hall.  His mother had whimsically painted it red when this bedroom became his after his older sister had gone to college.

His mother smiled and brushed back a stray lock of dirty blonde hair.  "Of course, dear."  She stepped to the door and gently closed it so that it hardly made a sound.  Then she walked over and kissed Joey on the forehead.  "I don't like the closet door open, either," she whispered.

Joey nodded, his blue eyes looking happier.

"Good night, sweetie," he mother said standing and walking to the door to the hall.

"Good night, mommy," Joey replied.

She smiled at him, turned off the light, and closed the bedroom door but leaving a gap of about four inches to let in light from the hall.

Joey heard her footsteps go down the corridor.  And he waited.  He didn't dare close his eyes but watched the red door.  It always seemed to take a while, but eventually the knob started turning.  Joey pulled the covers over his face but not his eyes, as he watched the door know slowly turn, so slow it was hard to even tell it was turning in the dim light.  Only the dent on the old knob indicated that it was turning at all.

The door opened, again with a speed that made it even hard to tell it was moving.  Almost like the hands on clock, it moved nearly imperceptibly.

What eventually came out of the closet was not human.  It wasn't exactly a monster.  More like a large dog, Joey thought, that walked on hind legs.  He'd once, without his parents permission, watched a werewolf movie.  This creature was close to how the werewolf was portrayed, but smaller and without the vicious teeth and claws.

"It is safe?" the creature asked.

Joey nodded.  He'd done this before.

The creature closed the bedroom door and turned on the light.

"Is it your turn or mine?" he asked.

"Yours," Joey said, pulling the covers down to his chin so he could talk.

The creature gave Joey a toothy smile.  It's teeth were rather human.

"Risk," the creature said.

Joey groaned.  "It takes too long."

The creature sighed.  "Fine, backgammon.  But no whining when you lose."

Joey nodded, threw back the covers and grabbed the game.  He knew if he could keep the creature busy until it fell asleep, he could keep it from eating his family.  He just felt lucky he asked it to play a game before it ate him when it first showed up right after Joey moved in.  Joey wondered if his sister knew of the creature.  He's have to ask her when she came home for Thanksgiving break.

No, I'm Not a Big Sports Fan

The World Cup started two weeks ago and runs about a month until July 13th. I guess they only do it once ever four years, but omg, that's a lot of futbol.

My cousin's son (who, yes, is technically my cousin, once removed) is posting stuff on Facebook like "Wow, that Sweden-Mozambique game was really exciting!!!!" I guess you have to really love soccer to watch that game.  But he is very much (in my opinion too much) into sports of all kind.

And I could hardly care less about them.

I've never been a big sports fan. When I was a kid I hated sports because 1) I was bad at it and 2) there'd be a stupid sports thing on when I wanted to watch Star Trek reruns. Or something else (when you only have two commercial television stations, and one of them is showing sports, it limits your television watching options).  I went to a couple of high school football games and really didn't enjoy them. Same for basketball.

In fact, just Friday the 13th at 7:00 P.M., I was going to sit down to enjoy an exciting and mentally stimulating show of Jeopardy but, alas, there was hockey game on.  This had happened before but they showed Jeopardy at 9:00 P.M. after the game so I tuned in at 9:00 P.M. And the stupid hockey game was in double overtime.  Then one of the teams won and I guess it was the "Stanley Cup" because it seemed they had to show ever player skating around holding it.  They finally broke into the middle of Wheel of Fortune at about 9:45.  And now I have 250 channels and I still can't watch what I want to watch . . . because of stupid sports.

When I got married, my wife was a bigger sports fan than I. Which wasn't hard because I loathed sports.  But she wanted to watch football (I put my foot down at baseball), specifically the Seahawks and the University of Washington Huskies. And after a while, I found I enjoyed football to the point where I could watch it.  And slowly over the years I have become a near-rabid Huskies fan (even the season they won zero games) and a fair-weather Seahawks fan (yea! they won the SuperBowl).  But I prefer college football because you get to watch these kids come up, grow, get better and then break your heart but leaving after their junior year. Also, college football players aren't paid a gazillion dollars so I think the sport is a bit less corrupt than the pros.

Here's my rundown on other major sports:

Baseball: boring, too much spitting, and did I mention boring. As someone said: baseball is 5 minutes of action squeezed into 3 hours.

Soccer/futbol: boring.  It's just skinny men running up and down a field for an hour and a South American village gets razed every time there's a goal.

Hockey: Like soccer on ice, right? I have to admit I'm impressed with the skill of the players doing what they do on ice skates, but I find watching it is not very exciting.

Basketball: I will watch college basketball when the Huskies are playing. But I just don't get that edge-of-the-seat feeling I get from watching football (American football).

Rugby: Very hard to find on TV in the US. I might like it if I watched it. But then I'd have to chose a team to root for.

Auto Racing: Usually pretty boring (especially NASCAR). When I watch it (except NASCAR) I usually enjoy it, I just don't go out of my way to watch it (except the Indy 500).

Any other sports pretty much aren't on my radar.

Flash Fiction Friday: Missing

Today's Flash Fiction Friday: Missing

"Say that number again?" Reynolds asked, sitting up in chair behind his desk.

"Nine hundred thousand," I repeated.

"Last year alone?" Reynolds asked.

"Yes," I clarified.

Reynolds let out a sigh. "I never realized it was that much."

I nodded. "Most people don't." I had just informed President Reynolds that over 900,000 persons disappeared the year before in the United States and we were on track this year to exceed that number.

"Where do they all go?"

"Some are murdered, some purposely disappear."

"Seems like a lot," the President said.

"Yes, sir," I replied.  "But I think I know where many of them are going?"

"Where, general?"

"Now, sir," I started, "this is a bit unbelievable. But I have evidence."

"Yes?" He sounded impatient. Presidents have a lot on their plate.

"They are being taken off the planet by an hostile alien race."

Reynolds snorted.

"I said it was unbelievable."

"Look, general, I agreed to this meeting because you said you'd found an imminent threat to the nation. This sounds like a bad science fiction movie."

"I have proof, Mr. President."

"Which is?"

"We captured one."

Reynolds glared at me. "One, what?"

"An alien."

Reynolds leaded forward. "Seriously? What's it look like."

"Bigfoot."

"Come again?"

"Bigfoot, sir.  Apparently the sightings of Bigfoot, or the Sasquatch, are sightings of these aliens hunting humans."

"You've captured a Bigfoot?"

"Yes, sir, near Fort Lewis, in the woods.  And there was a small alien spacecraft nearby. But it self destructed as we approached.  We did get some pictures, however."

"Are you BSing me, general."

"No, sir."

Reynolds sat back in his chair. "You're telling me that aliens are taking humans off Earth for some purpose?"

"Oh, we know the purpose."

Reynolds again leaned forward.  "How do you know that, general?"

"We found a cookbook."

Novel Excerpt: Mystery by Aliya Leigh

Aliya LeighToday we are happy to welcome back the multi-talented Aliya Leigh to our blog.  Aliya is a fiction writer, director, producer, animator and voice over actress.  She even has an
Yesterday we had a fun and informative interview with Aliya, and today we will be sharing an excerpt from her novel, Mystery .


Their eyes meet and Daniel says, “The boss sent me here to pick you up. You have a job, remember? You were supposed to show up on Monday. Today is Friday. What happened?” 
“I met my wife,” Jeremy says.
Jeremy looks at the floor because he wants to cry, but does not want his best friend to see his weak side. The only person in the world who has ever seen his weak side is his mother. Jeremy gets a little teary eyed, but remains calm. 
Daniel looks at Jeremy as if he can look into his soul. He is in shock about what his friend says to him because Jeremy has never had feelings for a woman as deeply as this before. Daniel is speechless, but he finds his tongue and asks, “Where is she?”
Jeremy stares at the floor again. He doesn’t want to tell Daniel what happened, but he knows he has to tell him or he won’t leave. Jeremy wants to cry, but cannot let that happen. He gets control of himself. 
“I don’t know. She disappeared in Vegas one night.” 
“You got married in Vegas?” Daniel says.
“No. We were thinking about it,” Jeremy confesses in a whisper.
Daniel has a confused look on his face and cocks his head to the side. Jeremy is expecting Daniel to say something weird or crazy and is bracing himself for it.
“Wait. Are you the guy who said you would never get married? Now you’re talking about almost marrying a woman, who as far as I know, doesn’t exist. Are you on dope?” Daniel asks.
Jeremy knew this was how Daniel would react. Jeremy wants to cry because he loves this woman so much. Jeremy sometimes thinks this woman is a fragment of his imagination, but he knows better than that. He felt her, touched her, breathed her, and loved her when they were together. He knows the woman he fell in love with is real, as real as he is. Jeremy has to tell Daniel the whole story, the truth. He wants his friend to believe him and understand why he looks and feels depressed. He thinks if he tells Daniel about the woman and the trip to Vegas, maybe it will heal his soul and help him forget about the woman.
“No. This woman is amazing,” Jeremy says as he closes his eyes.
Jeremy pictures the woman in his mind. It is like he is taking out his eyeballs and placing them inside his head and watching the woman standing there looking at him. He smiles and wants to touch her; he almost stretches out his arm so he can feel her. He knows she is not there, though. His mind comes back to reality and he stares at the floor, then back up at Daniel.
“She’s amazing. She has beautiful crystal blue eyes; eyes you can see through; eyes like a glass window and the iris is the ocean. In her eyes, you can see youth, truth, and happiness, but also mystery. She’s mysterious, as beautiful as the goddess Venus, even more. I have never seen a more beautiful woman than her in my life. I love her; I still do. I felt like a man with her, but now I am nothing without her. She means everything to me.” 
There are tears in Jeremy’s eyes when he looks at Daniel. He wants to cry and he is trying his hardest to control himself, but he can’t. Tears slowly flow from his eyes. He does not want Daniel to see him like this because of his pride, but right now, he doesn’t care. He cannot control himself any longer. He takes the bottom right side of his shirt and puts it up to his eyes. After he wipes them he puts his shirt down and swipes at his nose. His eyes and nose turn red, but his face suddenly turns calm. He puts his head down because he feels embarrassed crying in front of his friend.
Daniel knows how he feels, although he has never seen this side of Jeremy before. He knows his friend is in pain and he is willing to help, as always, but he doesn’t know how. He wants Jeremy to tell him the story. At first, Daniel thinks Jeremy is playing a joke on him, but now he knows Jeremy is telling the truth about this woman he so obviously loves very much. Daniel puts his right hand on Jeremy’s back and rubs it. Jeremy wraps his long, strong arms around Daniel’s body and hugs him. Daniel leans into Jeremy’s chest and Jeremy puts his chin on Daniel’s left shoulder and starts to cry. His body is shaking and he cannot stop himself. 
After several minutes of crying, Jeremy pushes himself away. His face is red and haggard and he starts to feel embarrassed about what he did, by hugging Daniel, but really doesn’t care at this point. Daniel needs to hear the whole story about the trip to Vegas and the woman who Jeremy loves. Jeremy wipes his face with his hands again and looks at his friend. Daniel doesn’t know about what his friend is going through, but he knows it is serious enough.
“Well, I’m going to be here for a while, so let me sit down. I want to hear the whole story,” Daniel says.
Jeremy looks at Daniel and cannot believe that his friend really cares for him. He wipes his face again with the corner of his shirt and says, “I’m sorry, come in.”
Jeremy finally lets Daniel into his apartment.  Stepping into the apartment, Daniel sits in the black leather chair in the living room and Jeremy closes and locks the door behind him. 
Daniel enjoys being in Jeremy’s apartment. The furniture is comfortable, unlike his furniture at home. The leather chair is soft and when you sit down, your body melts into it. Daniel scans the living room and sees the apartment is not clean, which is unusual for Jeremy because he is a clean freak. He even cleans the silver faucets on the sink in the bathroom and kitchen until they are spotless. Even when Jeremy goes over Daniel’s apartment and something was out of place, he rearranges or cleans his whole apartment.
Daniel can see his friend is depressed and needs serious help, he just doesn’t know how to give it. Daniel figures if he can hear the story, maybe he can at least be supportive to his friend, even though he wants to do more. Jeremy has helped him so much in the past he wants to return the help. He already feels bad not calling or coming by sooner.  
Jeremy walks into his kitchen. He looks at Daniel and his facial expressions tell him exactly what he is thinking, this place is a mess.
Jeremy scans the living room and cannot believe he has let his apartment get this dirty, but he’s happy that his best friend came over to see him. He realizes he needs someone to talk to. He needs comfort. He needs help. 
“Daniel, do you want any coffee?” Jeremy asks from the kitchen.
“Yes, please.”
Daniel and Jeremy are both silent. Daniel never saw this side-the sensitive side-of Jeremy. Daniel thought he knew his best friend and co-worker. 
“Do you want anything in your coffee?” Jeremy asks from the kitchen.
“No, I take it black,” Daniel says.
“Okay.”
Jeremy takes the two mugs of coffee to the living room and hands one to Daniel. Jeremy walks over to the couch and moves his clothes to the other side. He puts his coffee mug on the floor and sits down slowly. Jeremy stares into space, but Daniel knows he is thinking about the woman he had met in Vegas.
The mood is the classic psychiatrist and patient scene: Daniel sitting in the chair and Jeremy lying on the couch. 
Daniel has two sips of coffee and then stares at Jeremy. “Man, I want to hear everything.”
“Okay, well you know about the meeting at work before my long vacation, right? After I insulted the project manager and that sales guy, Arnold?” Jeremy says. 
“Well, David wanted to talk to me in his office. He told me to apologize to the project manager and to the sales guy in an e-mail or I could lose my job. He also told me after I apologized to them he was giving me three months off with pay. He suggested that I take a drive. He recommended Las Vegas. I e-mailed the project manager and the sales guy and told them that I was sorry about what I said and I started my vacation that evening.”
Jeremy and Daniel were working non-stop for six months straight programming a program for the stockbrokers who worked in their financial firm located on 99 Water Street next to the South Street Seaport. At the meeting, Jeremy and Daniel showed the final build of the program to the president of the stockbrokers’ department, the project manager, sales rep, and the president of PSD. At the meeting, the project manager and sales rep were happy that the program was finished and worked effectively, but they wanted to change the colors, the font, the title, and they thought it could be programmed and could work a different way, plus they wanted to add more features.
Jeremy got upset. He yelled at the project manager and the sales rep. Jeremy’s boss was not happy at how Jeremy took control of the situation; he could have argued with them in a different way, but he was happy that he said what he said to them.
Jeremy lays on the couch and impatiently put his coffee mug on the floor.
Jeremy moves his body on the couch to get comfortable and then he starts to tell the story. “She’s beautiful.”
Jeremy stares into space again as he thinks about her.
“Jeremy, come back to Earth,” Daniel says. 
Daniel is eager to hear the story. His eyes open wide and his body shifts to the edge of the chair like a child receiving presents on his birthday. Daniel wants Jeremy to get to the point of the story or he was going to burst into a million pieces. 
“Oh yeah,” Jeremy says shaking his head. “Daniel, she could have been my wife.”
“Jeremy, how could you say something like that? Think about it. You had mottos: “You need to screw and then lose. Marriage is for the deranged and insane.” Daniel takes a hard look at Jeremy and cocks his head to the side. He is trying to figure out whom he is talking to. The man in front of him looks like his best friend, but now he doesn’t know who the man is.
“So how could you fall in love and think about marrying a woman you just met? What happened?” 
“Man, it happens. I didn’t believe it myself, but it happens. I knew if I married her, she would be mine forever. I didn’t want to lose her. She was better than ten women put together. She was the one, my one true love. Yes, you may think I’m insane right now, but if you saw her, you would go insane, too. This woman is beautiful, smart, funny, exciting, and an amazing woman. If I find her again, I will marry her. I don’t want to lose her again,” Jeremy says.
Daniel sits in shock to hear what his friend says. The same guy who mocks marriage now wants to get married.
“So, what’s her name, where does she live, does she have a job?”
“Man, did you know your name tells someone what type of person you are?” Jeremy asks.
Daniel’s mouth opens wide; he is still in shock. Jeremy is goal-oriented, business-minded, analytical, and hated people that thought freely non-analytically. Now, Jeremy is open-minded and thought freely. Daniel is afraid Jeremy will get off the couch and start doing yoga, which Jeremy will definitely not do in a heartbeat, but Daniel can see a different side of him emerging. 
Thank you, Aliya, for sharing your talent with us!

Author Interview: Aliya Leigh

Aliya LeighToday we are happy to welcome the multi-talented Aliya Leigh to our blog.  Aliya is a fiction writer, director, producer, animator and voice over actress.  She even has an
Today we are going to have an interview with Aliya and tomorrow an excerpt from her novel, Mystery.
Please welcome Aliya, we're so happy to have her here:

1. Have you always wanted to be a writer?
I  always wanted to be a storyteller because I think it was in my blood.  By being half Native American, my great aunt used to tell me stories about my culture and I would sit there and listen.  I use to do the same with my dolls and sharing my active imagination with them and it was a source of entertainment.  So, as I grew up, I enjoyed having an audience and telling my stories and seeing the excitement and wonderment on people faces.  That’s when, I knew I had a gift for being a great story telling.  2. Can you tell us a little bit more about your novel?
My novel is about trying to find your soul mate before it’s too late.  Jeremy is a  man who don’t believe in love and is piss off with the world.  He decides to take a road trip to Las Vegas from New York City.  While on his road trip, he meets a woman named Mystery, who has black beautiful skin and crystal blue eyes.  Mystery needs to disappear because her abusive boyfriend is trying to find her, so Jeremy decided to take Mystery with him to Las Vegas.  During the road trip,  Jeremy falls in love with Mystery but Mystery has a secret.     3. What brought you to this genre?
Edgar Allen Poe. I am a big fan of his work. His always grabbed my attention in a story.  I wanted to be like him, so I got involved writing Mysteries.  Horror is my passion because it’s part of me. I can’t explain it.  With horror, you have thriller to keep the audience attention.   4.      What inspired you to write this particular book?My aunt inspired me to write this book.  She was always searching for love and married three times. Her third husband murdered her.  It had a profound impact on me about love and marriage. I always had my guard up when I was dating because I was in fear if this person who I decide to marriage will kill me in the end.  I saw my parents marriage and it never seemed genuine. They are still married today, but I never saw that love between them.  To me, it seemed that it was more of a business relationship than love.  So, story taught me about finding that true love, your soul mate before it’s too late.  5. Describe your novel in five words.
Romance, hope, survival, adventure, mysterious
6. Where can people find out our more about you and your books?
“Mystery” – http://aliyaleigh.sharedby.co/share/TcH4zn“Deadly Profession” –  http://www.deadlyprofession.com“Merchandise” – http://www.zazzle.com/puzzleme“My podcast” –  http://aliyaleighlive.libsyn.com/“Twitter account” – @aliyaleigh“Cypher Pirates” -  https://www.facebook.com/cypherpirates“Shadow Creatures” - shadowcreatures.wordpress.com“Interview” - http://workingwritersandbloggers.com/2011/02/21/interview-aliya-leigh/“The Aces” - http://natasharamsey.wordpress.com/2013/02/18/the-aces/7.  Are you working on anything else at the moment? Tell us about your future works.
I have been working on blog  called “Shadow Creatures”.  The story is based on my family and my childhood.  Shadow Creatures is a about a young teenage girl named E who is trying to understand the meaning of life and finding her position in a family which is damned by God.   E is me because I have always felt like an outsider in my colorful and insane family.  I am planning to put my book “Cypher Pirates” on Facebook.  “Cypher Pirates” is about an unlikely popular teenage snob becomes a hero.  Rumors of an underground Internet game surface at school, leaving a team of elite snobbish hackers anxious to play. If lucky enough to be invited, you are given a subject and must find the software through this clue.  It's a game within a game and Emma is thrilled to discover she has been selected, and elated when she is successful in solving the problem, leading to her acceptance as a player in the mysterious game of "Reality".  The only down side is the rule of secrecy, forbidding the players to discuss the details of the game amongst themselves. When Emma realizes the game is not what it seems, she’s on a mission to unplug her friends from the game’s nightmares.  Will her inner strength and cocky attitude save friends and herself?I am working on an animated web series called  Deadly Profession  about a drug and sex addicted medical doctor who practices euthanasia for a fee. After performing an assisted suicide on her grandmother, Mercy has been re-thinking her medical practice and her own morals. Her racist drug dealing Island maid named Rasta, the ghost of her best friend Chris, her booty call Dr. O, her Coach Bag and The Devil himself are her only friends.I will be working with the film director Joe Guinan on three projects, “Ghost Aliens”, “Before the Thunders” and “Casting Office Paranormal”.  I am blessed to have Robaire W. Estel as a mentor.  He is an amazing and successful screenwriter and producer who is knowledgeable in the film industry.   I am doing voice-overs for commercials, video games, web shows and TV.  I have been selected to direct anime project for a talented scriptwriter.  It’s a children story about using a normal toy that tells the future.  When funding is final, I will be start film.  I am with  Janette Anderson from Janette Anderson Entertainment. I am available to do guest blogging.  I am working with a group called “Zero Suicide Learning Collaborative” with the Suicide Prevention Resource Center in Washington.  8.  Do you have any advice to other authors who would like to be published?
I believe, God is the answer to everything and he will guide and direct you in your life. With complete faith and trust in God, he has given me strength to endure anything even through the most difficult times in my life.  My advice is to believe in God and to be nice to people.  People have the power to make you an unemployed or a successful writer. They are your fan base.  Without them, you are nothing but a person, so be nice and show how much they mean to you.  Always be humble and think outside the box.   Just for fun.1.  What’s your guilty pleasure?
My guilty pleasure is eating candy. I love candy.  I could eat candy all day and night. 2. Chocolate or Ice Cream?
I would like both please. [I'm with you! - SET]3. What’s your favorite music?
My favorite music is heavy metal, death metal, alternative music, Christian Rock and Mozart.4. If you could visit anywhere in the world where would it be? Why?I would love to visit the Middle East so I could see where ancient Babylon used to be.  There is so much history there and it upsets me that people are destroying ancient history over religion, power and oil. 5.  Who would you pick to date? The bad boy/girl or the perfect gentleman/lady? Why? 
I will have to pick a lady because I’m gay. I do have a partner and she is wonderful she is perfect for me.6. If you had a super power what would it be? Why?
If I had a superpower it will be mind reading. So I don’t know what people are thinking.  I will know what they really are thinking instead of what they’re saying.7.  What are your pet peeves?My pet peeve is you think you know everything without asking any questions. You assume everything and is not true of what you assumed.8.  Do you believe in ghosts? Why?
I do believe in ghosts. When I was a little girl, I was laying on my bed with my night light on as normal.   I was very still in my bed, then a black woman appeared in my room.  She looked like a black slave from the south as if she was a field worker with a scarf around her head.  She was pregnant.  She paced back and forth in my room as she was rubbing her belly.  All I could do was stare at her.  I made a slight noise and she stared back at me.  I didn’t know what to do.  I prayed and she walked towards my second story window and disappeared. I had to be around 7 years old.  Two years ago,  I was in my apartment with a friend.  The bedroom was dark and the light we had was from the TV.   A shadow figure walked into my bedroom.  He was a tall and big black man with tight curly hair and full lips.  He was not solid,  only a shadow.  He walked around the room as my friend and watched in silence.  He stared at us and walked out of the room.  I looked at my friend and he looked back at me.  We were both in shock.  So,  yes I believe in ghosts. 
Thank you, Aliya! And tomorrow an excerpt from her novel, Mystery. 

Meet My Main Character Blog Tour

Apparently there's more than one blog hop/tour tag thing happening at the moment. I already was roped into the "Writing Process" blog chain.  At least I volunteered for that one!

Now there's a "Meet My Main Character" blog hop/tour tag thing happening and I was tagged by Lee Miller who calls herself a "voracious reader" and hopes to be a writer. You can follow Lee on Twitter at @leemillerwrites

So, without further ado, please meet my main character from Treasure of the Black Hole, my as-of-yet unpublished science fiction novel.

1. What is the name of your main character? Is he fictional or a historic person?

My main character's name is Rick Bailey and he's a private detective on the planet Hayek IV. At least that's the alias he uses so the Core Empire can't find him. He's very fictional.

2. When and where is the story set?

The story is set about 4,000 years in the future and it takes place on various planets such as Hayek IV, Hayek III, Raipe, The Roach Home World, Terra-Kappa and, briefly, on Earth.  Each world has its unique climate, culture, government, and in some cases alien species.

3. What should we know about him?

Bailey has his own set of values that he stays true to as best he can. But he's not above taking work from a well-paying client who he is sure is lying.

4. What is the main conflict? What messes up his life?

Bailey owes a mobster money (an amount that keeps increasing the more he angers the mobster) so he agrees to help find a treasure. Problem is, others are after it, too, including the mobster. And he has to avoid Core Empire operatives who wish to take him back to Earth to be boiled alive . . . slowly.

5. What is his personal goal?

To stay alive, live in peace, and not get caught by the Core Empire.

7. When can we expect the book to be published?

That's a good question. I submitted it last week to a new publishing house. I'm supposed to hear back in three weeks from yesterday. If they ask for the full manuscript, I don't know how long until they'll accept that and then go to publication as I've never worked with this house before.

Thanks, Lee, for tagging me. This has been fun.

Racism and Sexism in Novels Set in The Past

I've been finishing up a science fiction novel called Treasure of the Black Hole.  It is my attempt to take the 1940s and '50s film noir movie or hard-boiled detective novel about 4,000 years into the future.  It has spaceships and aliens and fantastic new technology, but it is written as an old detective novel such as Dashiell Hammett might write. In fact, I need to stick a fork in it and call it "done."

Part of the process of working on the novel (which was a NaNoWriMo project which shows how much more work it takes to go from first draft to finished novel) is I've had several beta reads and the majority of the readers have been women.  And I was surprised none of them complained about the sexism in the novel.

But why is there sexism in the novel?  Because there was sexism in the old detective novels. Now it's not horrible sexism, mostly confined to the way people talk to each other (e.g., a man saying to a female character: "You're a good man, sister"). And there's strong female characters so it's not completely sexist.  But I could see that someone could be offended.

And I'm having a similar issue with my work in progress.  It is set in 1881 in the American West (yes, it's a Western but with fantasy elements). But in 1881, racism and sexism were just the ocean everyone swam in. It was so prevalent no one even took notice (except, I'm sure, the victims).  So my character can't even think, "Gee, they sure treat those coolies poorly" because in that era, no one would think that except a few very enlightened persons.

For example, a major publishing house rejected my novel Agent of Artifice with a note saying that it was interesting but my hero was a "sleazebag."  The only reason I could think they would say that was that the novel is set in the 1950s and he is a womanizer.  So, yes, by modern standards, he may be a "sleazebag" but in the '50s he would probably be considered "suave."

In my novel Hammer of Thor , there are three uses of the N-word. Why? Because that's how people talked in the 1930s and '40s.

Sometimes when talking to people about novels they will be upset about the racism and sexism of books written decades or centuries ago.  But often, by the standards of the time they were written, they are radically not sexist or racist.  For instance, in E.E. Smith's Skylark of Space, the main female character is a very strong woman who speaks her mind. This in a novel written over 100 years ago. Yes, she has to be rescued and all that, but in a period when women were seen and not heard, she is in many ways treated like an equal.

Now, when we're writing novels today we don't have the baggage of writing them before the invention of the traffic signal.  But if our novels are set in the past, we have to make them accurate to the period, including sexism, racism, and other evils that we are today trying to get away from.  Presenting the realities of the past in a realistic fashion will do more to educate your readers on those realities than pretending they don't exist.

Flash Fiction Friday: The Chase

(This is a true story.)

I had the cruse control set for five miles per hour over the 70-mph speed limit.  And I was bored.  The interstate highway was long and straight.  Ahead to the south I could see the next small city that the interstate cut through.  I planned to stop there and get a drink and fill up the gas tank.  The needle was brushing the E.

I saw the police lights on the northbound road.  There were a lot of them, I realized, three cars running with red and blue lights flashing garishly even in the bright afternoon sun.  I wondered if there were an accident somewhere behind me or maybe they were just late for a donut run . . .

Then I saw the car they were chasing.  It was a older model sedan, so beat up and indistinct I had trouble identifying the make and model (and I know cars).  And I realized I was watching a real-life car chase.

The sedan was slowing, I could see.  I watched, fascinated, my cruse control still on, still driving on mostly auto-pilot.

The sedan was trying to turn at a cross over, the type labeled "Authorized Vehicles Only."  Even I could tell he was going too fast.  The car turned, slid, clipped a reflector and with a crunch of gravel flipped off the cross-over road and into the median where the loose dirt and weeds flipped the car over more. It tumbled over three times, popped up into my road, the southbound road.  I realized it was going to hit my car.  I braked and tried to swerve right to dodge it but it was too late.  The car, upside down, slammed into the rear left fender of my car, spinning me around at something like 70 mph.  My car flipped over, spinning down the highway.  The world went crazy as my seat belts held me tight against the seat.  I let go of the steering wheel knowing I could do nothing and that, if hanging on to it, if it spun suddenly it could break a wrist.  I was just a passenger.

My car landed on its wheels, the engine incongruously still running.  I was daze, almost unconscious.  I felt wetness on my scalp and reached up to touch it.  My hand came away bloody.  I thought I was going to pass out.

The gunshot woke me up.  I turned toward the sound and saw a man beside his wrecked car shooting at police cars that were screeching to a halt.  I decided I needed to duck but the seat belt still held me.  I reached for the release but couldn't find it.  Blood was getting into my eyes.

I felt and impact as a bullet hit my shoulder.  Crying out involuntarily in pain I grabbed at the injury only to feel more blood, more pain.  The car was also burning, I realized.  I tugged at the seat belt, feeling the flames and heat get closer . . .

The cops zoomed by on the northbound lane.  I thought this was not a good time to be daydreaming at 75 mph.  I hope the cops were on a donut run, not heading for an accident.  I kept driving.