M.B. Mulhall's Blog, page 11

Book Review – The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Title: The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Author:  Neil Gaiman

Genre:  Adult/Fantasy

Source:  William Marrow

Goodreads Rating: 4.19 stars

My Rating: 4 stars

Summary (from Goodreads):

Sussex, England. A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn’t thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she’d claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy.

Forty years earlier, a man committed suicide in a stolen car at this farm at the end of the road. Like a fuse on a firework, his death lit a touchpaper and resonated in unimaginable ways. The darkness was unleashed, something scary and thoroughly incomprehensible to a little boy. And Lettie—magical, comforting, wise beyond her years—promised to protect him, no matter what.

A groundbreaking work from a master, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is told with a rare understanding of all that makes us human, and shows the power of stories to reveal and shelter us from the darkness inside and out. It is a stirring, terrifying, and elegiac fable as delicate as a butterfly’s wing and as menacing as a knife in the dark.

Reaction:

I’ve long been a fan of Gaiman’s work and while a bit shorter than other adult novels by him, this book pulled me into its odd world and had me devouring the story.  A couple months before reading this, I saw him at BEA and listened to him talk about how this book came about due to real events that happened in his childhood. I won’t say what as I hate spoilers, but you do find out pretty quick in the story what happens.

It’s a great mix of real life and fantasy and the emotional roller coaster a child goes through when their family has struggles and people don’t take them, or their fears, seriously.  It’s about friendship,loyalty, overcoming fears and coming back to your roots.

While the story is told from the POV of a 7 year old boy, it’s his adult counterpart’s flashback we read and it’s very believable that it’s the voice of a child.  The prose is beautiful and emotionally gripping, as is typical with his writing.

An all around great story wrapped in a beautiful cover.

 

 

Teaser Tuesday – Errand Girl of the Undead Chapter 6

Gah! I’m slacking lately. Sorry folks!  Here’s another teaser for Errand Girl of the Undead , which I finished last week. Woo!

Previous chapters in case you’re new around here:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

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Chapter Six

His exit left me shaken, although I wasn’t sure why. Samson blinked out all the time and other vampires I knew moved quick, but one minute he was there and the next, he just wasn’t. It was creepy. The thick white card slipped from my fingers and landed on the counter, corners of green bills stuck out, beckoning me to open it.

I wasn’t happy with the way he just handed me information. I wanted to be able to question him more. It wasn’t the way I typically did things; then again nothing about this job was typical.

The little bits of green caught my eye again and I flipped open the card to find a significant stack of hundreds. Scratch that, some of them were five hundred dollar bills. How did you know a vamp was old? He paid you in currency that was no longer produced. Are they were still worth five hundred or more now that they were collector’s items? I’d have to check around online or call my bank… There were five thousand dollars there total. I wasn’t sure ten thousand was enough when I knew how potentially dangerous the job was, but I would be the highest paying job I had taken. Regardless, it would look nice in my “buy Ellie a new car” jar.

With the money tucked safely into my pocket, I picked up the card. The inside was crammed full with a neat printed outline of the incidents and the locations where they occurred, the first being around the corner from the shop. No time like the present to check things out, right? Even though the sun had set, me and my trusty flashlight could get an idea of the area and then come back in the daylight to look for more clues.

Flashlight in hand, small spiral notepad stuck in my back pocket, I flipped the lights and turned the lock. Time to earn my money.

~~~

The first murder was actually located in a large park known for its running trails. Tomas gave very specific details, counting off the steps from signs and benches, so I would know exactly where the body was found. When I pulled in the park, there was one other empty car in the lot; probably a runner trying to burn off the stress of their day.

Making sure to lock the car, I turned on the light and looked over Tomas’ directions. Take the path to the left, closest to the park entrance and walk until you reach a fork. Easy enough. I started down the dirt lane, noticing how the canopy of trees let very little light in. Dappled shadows decorated the path, giving it a very creepy vibe. Good thing I was used to creepy.

When I came to the fork, I glanced at the directions again: Veer right and follow the path around a gentle curve. When you come upon a lone broken bench, step off the path and into the woods heading east. Head east, huh? Good thing my phone has a compass app.

The sounds of the early evening surrounded me as the night creatures came out to play. Crickets chirping, owls hooting, who knows what else was out there hunting its nocturnal prey.

I finally came upon the bench, tagged with graffiti and probably broken by punks. Shame some people have no respect for public property. My phone pointed me east and I stepped off the path and behind the damaged seating area.

One hundred feet from the path will be a clearing in the woods. That is where the first attack occurred. Under my breath I counted off the steps trying to ignore the sharp branches that were scratching up my bare legs. Probably would have been smart to have switched out of shorts for the trip. Too late now. While keeping the flashlight trained at the ground so I didn’t trip, I missed a thin branch jutting out in front of me until it caught my face, taking a small strip of skin with it. I hissed and dropped the flashlight to slap a hand to my stinging cheek. That better not leave a scar or I was going to send Tomas a plastic surgery bill, dammit. When I removed my hand, there was a line of bright red blood marring it. I hoped there were no blood sucking creatures traipsing in the woods. While I wasn’t gushing like a stuck pig, any blood was a bad thing when a hungry vamp had an amazing sense of smell.

I swiped at the cut again with the back of my hand before crouching to grab the flashlight. As I was down there, I heard the telltale sound of dry brush crunching underfoot. Considering I wasn’t moving, I knew it couldn’t be me. Holding my breath, I strained to hear where the sound was coming from. Whatever it was it was coming up behind me. Fast, to boot. Do I stay close to the ground? Hope they don’t see me? It could give me an advantage if it’s an unfriendly person or creature. Then again, if I scared them they might lash out in self-defense. Oh decisions, decisions. Answer, you better come to me quick.

A cramp in my leg ended up making the decision for me. I was forced to stand and tried to get myself into a defensive position, just in case. The noise indicated my company was closing in on me but the darkness kept me from seeing who or what it was. Keeping the light low to the ground, I scanned the area in front of me, trying to get an idea of what I was up against. Noticing some of the upper branches bending, I realized whatever it was, it was big. Bigger than me and it did not sound like it was taking a leisurely stroll. Either something was chasing it or it was coming for me. Neither option sounded ideal.

Ideas, they come at inconvenient times

I get excited when a new story idea starts brewing. It crowds out all other thoughts and my hand starts to itch to write. Dialog will pop into my head along with character names and descriptions. My engine revs and the rest of me is in neutral, awaiting the green flag.

Sounds good, right? What writer doesn’t love getting new ideas?

Problem being, these typically come to me as I’m in the middle of another project, or worse, near the end of something when my brain should be focusing on getting other things done. It’s like my subconscious is against me finishing things.

“No man, you don’t need to finish that silly little story you’ve spent months on. Let’s start something new! Something shinnnnnny. You know you want to!”

Man, my brain is a jerk sometimes.

But a good idea is a good idea, regardless of the time it decides to make an appearance. All you can do make notes or do a rough outline and hope you’ll be able to get into it when you actually have the time to do so.  Sometimes it works…and sometimes it doesn’t.  I like to tell myself those that don’t work would have sucked anyway.

What do you do when you get a new idea when you’re in the middle of another project?

Who are your favorite small press publishers?

Small Presses are the happy medium between self-publishing and traditional publishing as you don’t always need to be represented by an agent to deal with a small press (from the little research I’ve done so far, most don’t need you to have an agent but will still consider agented work), and they will handle the editing and art (typically) for your covers as well as promotion.

Of course there’s a trade off that you have to share your royalties with them, but many that I’ve looked into have very reasonable percentages not far off from what you’d get if you published through Amazon.  You will still have a lot of control over your book but you’ll also, more than likely, be asked to do a significant amount of promotion as well.

My biggest problem with self-publishing is the promo aspect, especially with the new job, it has really fallen to the wayside and my sales have suffered. With all the changes in traditional publishing lately, I’m not sure it’s really the route I want to take anymore, hence looking into the small presses.  I do have some in my sights, but I know there are probably many more that I don’t know of, so let me know who some of your favorites are and why you like them.

Do you use them to publish your own stuff?

Do you like the books they put out?

Let me know!

Belated Book Birthday!

Don’t be sad Darcy! I’ll make it up to you!

So, bad book mommy that I am, I totally missed Tears of a Clown‘s first book birthday back on July 15th. How shameful of me. Poor Darcy was probably expecting balloons and a cake baked in the Kitchen Of Love.   What should I do to make it up to her?  Should I do a giveaway (keep in mind I cannot get rafflecopter to work here  for some reason…)? Should I lower the price for a bit? Should I offer a critique of the first 5 pages of someone’s WIP?

You guys tell me what you’d be interested in and I’ll work in some little extras along the way!

Let’s get ready to party!

Book Review – Skin

Title: Skin

Author: Donna Jo Napoli

Genre: Young Adult

Source:  Net Galley

Goodreads Rating: 3.25

My Rating: 3 stars

Worth it to stick with it.

Summary (from Goodreads):

My lips are white. Sixteen-year-old Sep stares into the bathroom mirror on the first day of school. It’s not some weird lipstick (she never wears lipstick), she didn’t bump her lips or chew on ice. Her lips are just ? white. In a panic, she digs up an old lipstick and smears it on her colorless lips. But soon, more and more white spots begin to bloom, spreading their chalky tendrils across her olive brown skin. Does she have a disease? Is she turning into some kind of freak? Sep is usually the one who knows all the answers. With a quicksilver mind and a supple body, she’s happiest when she’s delving into the mysteries of animal biology or giving herself over to sweet, hot moves in Jazz Dance Club. Unlike her best friend, Devon, she’s never been in a rush to get a boyfriend. But as the white blotches spread, her dating days ? like the endangered species she studies ? seem numbered. So when Josh, a boy she’s always liked, makes a flirty advance, she wonders: why not grab pleasure while she can? Frank, funny, and full of passion, this compelling novel tells the empowering story of a strong, gifted teen who, as her life spins out of control, desperately tries to prove to the world ? and herself ? that she is deeper than skin.

Reaction: 

When it started off, the voice of Sep came off as really young. She’s meant to be a junior in high school and it was very odd to me that the author made the students think wearing lipstick was such a major thing. Teens wear make-up. I don’t think people really would have noticed or cared that Sep was suddenly wearing lipstick.

I also found it odd the author made such a big deal about the color of her skin, calling herself not white. I suppose she had to do it so when the disease kicked in, the reader would know that the spots really showed up, but I think it could have been handled better.

As the story continued, I came to like Sep more and thought the actions and emotions of a teen finding out she has a disease that everyone will see, was realistic. It did get a bit graphic in parts, which I don’t mind but seemed a bit surprising when it started out so tame. The speech her boyfriend gives at the end of the story was especially powerful.

All in all, an emotional and realistic read.

Teaser Thursday – Errand Girl of the Undead – Chapter 5

Again, I’m too busy to get much writing done (but I’m trying to work it in, I promise!) but because I opted to have a nice day out on my day off yesterday, the blog post didn’t get written (bad, bad me). Therefore, you get a teaser instead! I know this will make my writing buddy happy, if no one else.

In case this is your first glance at my novella in process, here are links to the first four chapters posted earlier:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

As is with most of the teasers I post, these are unedited so please excuse any typos, grammatical errors or repetitiveness.

Enjoy!

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Chapter Five

 

Being that there were several hours before the mysterious Mr. Abbate could show up, I checked messages and grabbed my job tickets.  There was a Selkie pelt to pick up from a fae dry cleaner–shocking as they don’t typically let anyone else touch their pelts. Maybe my client was a trusting progressive Selkie–, iron supplements to be bought and left in the mailbox of one of Josiah’s brood who was on a fasting cleanse, and a pair of hell hounds that needed to go to a down under groomer. Weird was my life and the list of jobs for the day certainly highlighted that.

Most of it was a breeze but wrestling the hounds was a challenge.  Not because they were mean and vicious–quite the opposite actually, unless ordered by their master to attack–but because they just wanted to play, knocking me down and covering me in dog slobber. Ugh. I liked animals, really, but those ones needed better manners.  The incessant crotch sniffing was especially embarrassing. I’d have to talk to their owner about some obedience classes if he wanted me to keep dealing with them.

By the time I was done dragging the sparkling pooches back home, the sun was dangerously low to dipping beneath the horizon.  I’d have to hurry back if I wanted to beat meet my new client to the shop.  While he didn’t give me an exact time he’d show up, something told me he’d be there as soon as it was possible for him to leave his daytime resting place.

Throwing my bag into the passenger seat, pink job slips belching from the top, I put the pedal to the metal, chanting a quick  no-see-um spell which would let me get away with speeding and not having to worry that the local cops would pull me over. Magic was really handy at times.

When I pulled into the lot, I saw a dark shadow creeping around my door. Samson? Or perhaps my newest client was older than I thought.  The older a vamp is, the less sleep they need, allowing them to rise earlier. Not that they can take the full sunlight of a summer afternoon, but twilight and a dusky dawn were do-able. Older also meant more powerful, which worried me.  I could handle my own against most, but some older vamps had powers I could only dream of.  I hoped that wouldn’t be the case with this guy.

“So sorry I’m late,” I called, hurrying from the car.  The shadow turned my way but said nothing. Miracles of miracles, I managed to find the shop key with no trouble and worked it into the lock, smooooth as could be.  The fluorescent lights flashed and flickered to life after the switch was thrown.

The silent shadow followed behind me causing the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand at attention. Goosebumps joined the party. I did not have a good feeling about this guy.  Trying to look nonchalant, my hand rummaged in my giant purse for the container of garlic spray I carried.  Garlic wasn’t deadly to vampires, but it acted like tear gas, annoying them enough to allow for a quick exit.

“That won’t be necessary Ms. Weston. I’m not here to harm you.”

The low timber of his voice sent chills down my spine. Regardless of his words, my brain was screaming “Danger! Danger! Danger!”  His words also had me worrying he was a mind reader. Those were the worst.

“Was I that obvious?” I gave a weak chuckle and was quick to move behind the counter wishing Samson would make one of his surprise visits.

“I apologize if my presence concerned you. Before the sun sets I am a mere…shadow of myself. Able to get around but not much else.”

When I saw out the window that the sun had indeed set, his explanation made sense but I was still weary.  Reaching under the counter, I set my phone down, Josiah’s number ready to dial in a heartbeat if needed. I grabbed the pink work pad, slapping it down on the countertop before picking out a purple pen from the cup next to the phone.

“Mr. Abbate, I assume?”  He nodded and pulled a case out of his suit jacket. It was a dull and battered gold rectangle, an art deco kind of design etched into the front, bold and geometric. With a flick of the wrist it flew open, revealing a neat row of cancer sticks.

“Please, call me Tomas. Mind if I smoke?”

I shrugged. I’m not a fan but he seemed like the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to say no to.

He removed one of the small cylinders with long deft fingers and place it in it his mouth. As he patted his pockets for a lighter, he spoke around the cigarette in his mouth.

“Dirty habit I know, but it’s not like it will kill me.”  The accompanying smile did a lot to calm me.  Nothing so evil could have such a stunning smile, could it?

He lit up and took a long slow draw. It was weird to see since vampires don’t need to breath.  The smoke undulated around him, adding to his mysterious aura. While he was enjoying his dirty habit, I looked him over, as discretely as I could. Tall, really tall, with a tapered swimmer type of body, broad at the shoulders and skinny at the waist.  His pallor was pale, as is with most vampires unless they’ve just fed. Black slicked back hair and shadows under his eyes gave him that typical Dracula look that people would normally associate with a vampire. I don’t know much about men’s clothes, but his suit fit perfectly and looked expensive. When I looked at his face, he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“Do I meet your approval?”

Heat came to my cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” I tried to play it cool.  He continued to smile, knowing he caught me checking him out.

“So the job…” he started.

I nodded and put pen to pad. “Yes. What can I help you with?”

He took another drag and exhaled a smoke circle which floated in my direction.  “I fear there is a rogue werewolf in my neighborhood.”

My eyebrows rose. That could cause some serious damage. “Why come to me? Not that I don’t appreciate the work but…wouldn’t this be a job better suited for the local pack master?”

The vampire looked me over, his penetrating gaze sending another round of chills up my spine. “You could say…that the pack Alpha and I are not on the best of terms. I assure you, I will make the job worth your while.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. It’s just that…” How did I tell him I found it weird he wanted a seventeen year old girl to handle a rabid hybrid when another werewolf, with superhuman strength, would be the more logical choice? Sigh.

“Just what, my dear?”

I shook my head, clearing thoughts. Back to getting details. “What makes you think it’s a rogue wolf?”

“Mostly the decimated bodies, torn and tattered beyond recognition.”

Swallowing hard I tried to put the image out of my head. Had to get as much information out of Tomas as possible.

“Other creatures have been known to uhh…cause that kind of damage. Anything in particular that points towards wolf?”

He pondered my question for a few moments. “Well, it does always seem to happen on a full moon. Also, there was a wet dog smell lingering. After all these years, my sense of smell is very sensitive.”  I nodded, knowing that to be true. Josiah always complained if I wore any kind of perfume or scented lotion. It was kind of annoying actually.

“Normally, I’d say live and let live. Who am I to say one of my down under brethren should be tamed, but I fear their actions will leave people thinking the murders are my doing, and I just can’t have that…tarnish on my reputation.”

“I understand.”    It was true. If Josiah caught wind and thought Tomas was the cause, he’d have to be staked. While it’s not illegal for vampires to drink from humans–willing humans that was–killing them was an absolute no-no.

He had smoked the cigarette down to a small nub. I cringed when he put the lit tip to his skin, twisting it in small semi-circles. Tomas didn’t flinch and after he tossed the remaining filter into the nearby garbage I noticed the small red circle was already healing. Another perk of being a vamp.

“The next full moon is three days away. I know it does not give you much time but I’ve made a list of the killer’s previous…dinner locations. I thought you would want to see them.” He reached into his suit jacket again, opposite side from where his cigarette case was, and removed another white card like the one Samson had given me this morning.  He held it out to me with a smile.

“I’m afraid I have another appointment to get to my dear. Half of the payment is inside. You’ll receive the remainder when the job is completed.” He rose to his full height, causing me to crane my neck to look at him.  I took the offered card from his outstretched arm.

“And if I have any questions, how do I contact you?”

“I shall find you.”  He winked at me and before I could open my mouth to protest, he was gone, the card in my hand and the slowly closing door the only indications that he had been there.

 

 

 

 

Brainstorming

You may remember, from years ago, your English teachers teaching you how to brainstorm before writing a story or even a research paper.  They had helpful little diagrams where you could write in your main idea and supporting details or you could just go all willy nilly and free form, jotting ideas on the paper. Have you ever tried it since leaving a school setting?

Why not?

Brainstorming is something both plotters and pantsers can take advantage of.  The ideas come and, in my opinion, it’s rare that you’ll know the whole outcome of the story before you sit down to write it. Brainstorming can help the plotter figure out the direction they want their novel to take.  For the pantser, it can be good to go in with ideas you may want to hit, but I also think it’s a good way to move forward on a story if you’re stuck.  Stop down and take a few minutes to jot down ideas about your plot line or your characters or the relationships they have. It could spark a new idea or direction for you to take.

Just be sure to remember that just because an idea comes out during brainstorming, that doesn’t  mean you have to use it.  Think of them as suggestions from your subconscious.

Do you brainstorm before or during your writing? Have you found it helps your process?

If you’re not into free form, here are some brainstorming diagrams that could help you:

Go in With a Plan

We’ve discussed plotting and pantsing before, but this post is a little more than that.  When you’re an indie author, I think it’s important to set your own goals and deadlines. I think you need to develop a loose sort of plan when you start a new project. Know what you’re going to write about, have an idea for an ending at least if you’re not plotting, pick a time you’d like to be finished by, know who you’re going to ask to beta for you, etc. Plans might change along the way, but that’s okay!

Some structure is not going to kill your organic free-flowing writing style.  It will give you something to work towards and an additional reason to write as often as you can (if not daily). Maybe there’s a contest you want to enter your novel into.  Maybe you set up a blog tour or sign up for a blog hop that will require you to be done by a certain time.  These things will push you to get to the end.

Our traditionally published brethren all work under deadlines and there’s no reason why we can’t as well. It can even be in the form of a pushy friend who is excited to read your stuff.  When I was writing Tears of a Clown, I was posting it on Facebook in chapter long installments as I went.  I had a couple of friends (my awesome writing buddy included) who would read and comment on each post and it really prompted me to move forward. Sometimes we just need a little nudge or need to know people are enjoying what we have so far.

Go ahead and set a completion date.  Reward yourself for mini-goals if need be.  Go into it with a plan and get it done.

How do you prompt yourself to finish a project?

Write What You Like

I’ve already discussed in other posts that I don’t think you need to follow the old adage that you should only write what you know and to write what you like doesn’t necessarily mean you know everything about that genre. Say you pick up your first steampunk story and fall in love with the gears, the automatons and dirigibles. You think “Wow, that was great!  I wish I could write a story like that.”

Who’s to say you can’t?

Research and a love for your story can make anything possible.  I feel that if you are writing something you know you would like to read, it makes you more excited to work on and finish the project.  Think about any significant length papers you ever had to write for school.  Were you excited to have to do them? Probably not so much.  Were they on topics you enjoyed? Maybe, but more likely not really.  Did you keep putting it off until the last possible minute because you weren’t so interested in writing them? If you were like me you did.  Even when I was interested in the topic for my senior essay (30+ pages on how Russian lit influenced modern Japanese lit. I got an A!) I wasn’t raring to write every day like I can be when I’m working on a story I love.

You’ve got to like what you’re writing.  If you don’t, it will either never get finished or you’ll get it done but it’ll be obvious to any reader that your heart wasn’t in it. Like any other art form, people can see the passion and emotion in your writing. If it’s not there while you’re crafting the story, it’s not going to come across very well to those who read it.  Your characters will be flat and your descriptions bland.  The idea behind the story might be a great one, but without the passion behind it, people aren’t going to care enough to finish reading.

Write things you would enjoy reading. Write about things you want to learn more about. Write what you like.

Have you ever decided you just didn’t like what you were writing? Did you re-write and improve on it, coming to love the story? Or did you just scrap the project all together?