M.B. Mulhall's Blog, page 3

An Interview. A Book Release. A Chance to Win Stuff With Raine O’Tierney!

Look at that sweet cover!

I have the delightful honor of being the first stop of author Raine O’Tierney’s blog tour for her new release��I Will Always Miss You, a LGBT YA novel that��deals with diversity and reminds its readers that family doesn’t always mean the people you share DNA with.

I was able to pin down the busy author for a bit and got her to answer some questions about the book and her writing in general. Let’s see what she had to say!

(Keep going after the interview for blurbs, excerpt,purchase links, contest info and more places where you can connect with Raine!)

1) Is this your first Young Adult book?

It is! And I���ve got to say���mad props to anyone who writes YA exclusively. Getting the ever-changing voice of a teenager right is hard work! How we talked as teens is insanely different than how teens today talk, and I don���t even consider myself a *total* dinosaur.

(MB- as a fellow YA author, I understand this struggle completely!)

2) Why do you write Young Adult?

Even though I���m closer to 30 than I am to 18, my experiences as a teenager���the good, the bad, and the awkward���are still so vibrant in my head. Writing YA lets me explore some of those emotions in a creative way.

(MB – as someone over 30 I can tell you some of that vibrancy never fades…)

3) What���s so important about��I���ll Always Miss You��that made you have to tell the story?

In addition to trying to contribute to positive LGBT literature for teens, I wanted to write a story about an Arab-American teenager. We need more diversity all around, but there���s a noticeable lack of Arab characters. Throughout this story Isa Zaman struggles with how others perceive him and his family and how he perceives himself.

4) Were there any parts that were difficult for you to put down on ���paper���? �� Why?

Any time the boys were in a fight. I would argue with them, nooo, guys, let���s all get along! But characters do what they do.

(MB – They have a mind of their own, don’t they? Silly characters!)

5) What do you hope people take away with them upon completing the book?

There are so many things you can walk away with depending on the angle you look come at it from. But, hmm, my favorite theme? Family doesn���t always mean our blood relatives.

6) Who was your favorite character in the book and why?

Isa���s oldest sister Aaliyah is my favorite character. She has completely embraced her Moroccan heritage and creates beautiful things that inspire Isa on his journey. She���s also very kind���the sort of person I wish I knew in real life. I���d love to spend the afternoon with Aaliyah.

7) Who or what inspires you to write?

Si��n O���Tierney (my writing partner and hubs!) He said he married me for my sweet, sweet writing monies (hahahahaha���ha���) so I keep writing stories for him.

8) What are five of your favorite reads?

(In no particular order)

Behind the Attic Wall by Sylvia Cassedy

Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

The Apothecary by Maile Meloy

Icefall by Matthew J. Kirby

(MB – I…don’t know any of these! To the Amazon.com!”)

9) Do you have any other projects in the works readers can look forward to?

I have an adult work coming out from Dreamspinner Press in May called All That Shimmers and a collaboration I did with the fantastic Debbie McGowan called Leaving Flowers that will be out in June from Beaten Track Publishing.

10) Where can fans connect with you?

Swing on by my FB page for randomness!

https://www.facebook.com/RaineOTierneyAuthor

11) Bonus Question! If��I���ll Always Miss You��was turned into a hit Broadway musical, what would the name of the big song played in all the commercials be called?

Shoes on the Wire! (With the exclamation point.)

ISBN-13: 9781632165244

Pages: 256 pages

Cover Artist: Bree Archer

Categories: Young Adult | Bisexual | Coming of Age |

��

BLURB:

Isa Zaman might forgive his parents for taking in a friend���s son if only he wasn’t the most boring teenager in the universe. Macklin “Mackie” Cormack���s only interests are reading and the outdoors. Yeah, right. Isa’s convinced Mackie is either a pyro or a klepto. Plus, as a white kid, Mackie looks ridiculous in the Zamans’ Arab American household. Forced to share a bedroom, the boys keep butting heads until an absurd fight finally breaks the tension between them.

Isa���s just starting to figure life out: this new houseguest, his cultural identity, school, and even girls, when the entire family is uprooted from their home for reasons Isa can’t understand. They move from their tiny city apartment to a giant, old house in a small town, hours away from everything he’s ever known. Oh, and the new house? It’s probably haunted, or so says the blank-faced ten-year-old next door. As if things weren’t weird enough, Isa’s friendship with Mackie suddenly takes a strange turn down a path Isa’s not sure he���s ready to follow. It turns out Mackie Cormack isn���t nearly as boring as Isa once imagined.

EXCERPT:

He took a deep breath. ���That���s sort of the thing. I don���t like anything about her.���

���What?���

���She asked me out.��� Mackie shrugged. ���But I don���t really like her all that much either.���

I couldn���t wrap my head around it. We���d been ignoring each other for all that time over a girl he didn���t even like? Bullshit. Complete and total bullshit.

���Are you for real?���

���Yeah.���

���So why are you going out with her, then?��� And then I remembered what he���d said in my room that day, that he was dating her just because���. Because why? If we were ever going to be friends again, then I needed to know. ���Why are you going out with her?���

���I really don���t want to talk about that, Isa.���

���C���mon, Mackie. It���s been driving me nuts. Why would you date someone you didn���t even like? Or do you like kissing her?���

���Not��� really,��� he said. ���That���s kind of the thing. I thought I would. But��� I don���t.���

The book.

���Okay, then stop.��� I shrugged. ���We���re supposed to start working at Rashid���s, and we could hang out again, and there���s only like a week left of school. We could be friends.���

I don���t��� think that���s��� a good idea.���

���You don���t want to be my friend?��� I demanded. ���What? ���Cause of Katy? ���Cause I was a jerk? That���s stupid, Mackie! It was your fault too! I don���t understand you at all.���

He was quiet for a really long time.

���I���m screwed no matter what I do,��� he finally said on a low sigh.

���You think?��� I asked, not knowing what he meant. I rolled Dad���s nine iron with my palm.

���Jesus H, Isa. You���re going to make me do this, aren���t you?���

���Yup,��� I told him dryly. ���Yup, I���m going to make you do this, whatever the hell ���this��� is.���

He turned his face and stared at me. He stared at me so hard and for so long, I started to get uncomfortable. And then he leaned in, and I thought he was going to whisper it. Whatever the big secret was, whatever he���d been hiding from me, his reasons for dating a girl he didn���t even like, his reasons for not wanting to be my friend, all of it. Instead, he kissed me.

��

BUY LINKS:

�� http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6128

��http://www.amazon.com/Ill-Always-Miss-Raine-OTierney-ebook/dp/B00TWR8A7C/

�� https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-i039llalwaysmissyou-1740472-149.html

�� http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ill-always-miss-you-raine-otierney/1121262925?ean=9781632165220

��

�� GIVEAWAY:

��Rafflecopter prizes: $25 Amazon.com giftcard and an e-copy of I���ll Always Miss You

(Please clicky the link! Sadly my version of wordpress does not support Rafflecopter widgets *sad panda face*)

Click me to Win Stuff! Pretty Please!

��

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

��

Raine O’Tierney lives outside of Kansas City with her husband, fellow Dreamspinner Press author, Si��n O’Tierney. When she’s not writing, she’s either asleep or fighting the good fight for intellectual freedom at her library day job. Raine believes the best thing we can do in life is be kind to one another, and she enjoys encouraging fellow writers! Writing for 20+ years (with the last 10 spent on M/M) Raine changes sub-genres to suit her mood and believes all good stories end sweetly. Contact her if you’re interested in talking about point-and-click adventure games or about which dachshunds are the best kinds of dachshunds!

Homepage: Raineotierney.com

LGBT Author Interviews: http://raineotierneyhatparty.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RaineOTierneyAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RaineOTierney

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7770350.Raine_O_Tierney

Top Five – Reinvent or Retire

When you read a lot, you can’t help but come across similar themes, or tropes. Some of them I don’t mind, but others…others need some serious reinvention or they need to be retired for a while.

Here’s my top five tropes in YA books that needs new life breathed into them or that need to go away on an extended vacation:

1)��The Love Triangle

I admit, I’m guilty of using this trope myself (see��Tears of a Clown). ��While it has been around for a while, it really gained steam with the��Twilight books and the whole Bella, Edward, Jacob bit. I can understand how a reader would love to put themselves in Bella’s place and have two hot guys fighting over her, but it’s since showed in every other book I’ve picked up in recent years making it a yawner of a theme.��I still have to guess��who the main character will end up with but even that ends up being pretty predictable. ��Let’s face it, romance is hard enough, especially as a teen. ��The readers don’t need an extra person to add to the dramatics of young love.

2)��Boarding School

I think, for American writers, the boarding school is pure fantasy because it’s not a common thing here. ��An American being put in the foreign setting, away from parents, allows for more shenanigans, culture shock, longing and homesickness. It ends up being repetitive though: “Oooh I’m the outsider and sooo alone” “Why does everyone laugh when I talk about a fanny pack?” “Foreign guys are so much more sexy than the boring guy I left at home” (okay, the accents are always swoon worthy but more so in movies than books!). Some authors are doing it right, Maureen Johnson’s The Shades of London series comes to mind, but I think this trope needs some serious reinvention. Make the American the bad “guy”, give the school secret passages or doors to fantastical worlds, etc. I’m interested in seeing what else can be done with it.

3)��Vampires

This just needs a bit of a break. I think, given time, I can enjoy a good vamp story again, but I need some time away from the bloodsuckers. ��I don’t mind seeing them as secondary characters but the libraries were so flooded after��Twilight that I overdosed on the trope. I don’t think I’m alone in thinking vamps need to go back into the coffin for a while.

4)��I’ve hit my x birthday and suddenly: have powers/am a mermaid/am a wizard

I can still go for more mermaid stories (hehe) but the whole latent powers that get released by a certain age has grown a bit dull. I’d rather see them have their powers from birth and struggle to hide them as a rambunctious toddler or how they get out of control when puberty hits. ��I know a lot of these stories stem from Harry Potter success but I have yet see more than a handful of books do a good job of it.

5)��Absentee Parents

This happens in many stories via tragedy or drug and alcohol related problems. I can understand that like the boarding school trope, not having adults around allows for the characters to do more with less consequences, but having a parent or guardian around helps keep the story more realistic and adds more depth to the characters. Absent adults can work but I think there needs to be someone the characters have to answer to.

What tropes are you tired of seeing in YA today? What can you stand to see some more of?

Cover Reveal: Michael – Path of Angels Book One

I’m excited to be able to share the very pretty cover of the first of four short stories that make up Path of Angels, by my lovely writing buddy, Patricia Josephine. Isn’t Michael’s fiery sword the coolest? Don’t you want to know what he uses it for? Add the book to your Goodsread list (see link below) and keep an eye here announcing the March publish date!

��Michael
Path of Angels Book One


Add to your Goodreads shelf
Blurb

There is only one path.

Born mortal along with his three brothers, Michael is an Archangel with a specific role: hunt fallen angels and send them back to Hell. He is determined in his mission, never straying from his appointed path, until he meets Lake Divine, and discovers there may be more to his beliefs than blind duty.

But Lake is not who he seems. Offspring of a human and a fallen angel, a Nephilim, Lake must choose his own destiny: give in to the coldness and embrace the dark, or seek the light and rise above the sins of his father.

Two paths lay before them, but only one has the potential to destroy them both.

About the Author

Patricia Josephine never set out to��become a writer. In fact, she never considered it an option during high school and��college. But some stories are meant to be told and this one chose her. Patricia��lives with her husband in Michigan, hopes one day to have what will resemble a��small petting zoo and has a fondness for dying her hair the colors of the��rainbow.Patricia Josephine writes young adult under the name Patricia Lynne.

Follow Patricia on Twitter | Goodreads | Google+ | Website | Wattpad

Write What You Love

You typically hear “write what you know” which isn’t bad advice but seems to hold writers back in my opinion. Stretch those creative limbs and write a male character if you’re female, write about sports if you’ve never played, etc. I’d prefer to see authors write about what they love, whether it’s romance, horror, high school comedy, etc. If you are writing about a subject you love, or feel otherwise strongly about, I think it comes across in the story telling. ��When you try to write on a topic you’re not feeling, writing can seem stilted or drag on because you’re not really enthusiastic about it. The reader will know.

I’ve also heard, sadly often from other authors, down talk about writing in certain genres. Romance is beneath them. Young adult even more so. Erotica? Trash anyone can write. Not everyone wants to write the next great American novel and there’s nothing wrong with that. A good story is a good story regardless of who the intended audience is. Don’t let anyone put down your genre! Write what you love. Your great story is going to win over readers even if it’s not something that will become a classic years from now.

Write to entertain. Write to inform. Write what you’re passionate about.

Do you write about what you love or what you think others want to see?

The Fear Within

Even though it’s now posted under the Shorts tab, I wanted to share with everyone the story I wrote for round one of the NYC Midnight short story challenge.

Enjoy and feel free to leave comments or critiques!

_________________________________________________________________________

The Fear Within

There���s nothing quite as surreal as staring down at your own dead body.

If you think you look awful in life, you look ten times worse in death; all bloated and pasty, not to mention the awkward pose. There���s no lifting your chin or sucking in your gut once you���re pushing up the daisies.

How did I get here, you ask? Well, that���s a good question. One I���m not really sure I have a good answer for���

It was another Friday night where I had a date with my desk and an overwhelming amount of paperwork.�� The Carlsons had been here hours before, fighting over that stupid family heirloom. The wife said it was haunted and had ruined the marriage. The husband said she was crazy and was just trying to talk him out of keeping the object. The Gilded Clam they called it. I called it a hideous paperweight, but until it could be decided to whom it was going to be awarded, it resided on my desk.

The hour was late and I was the only one left in the office, which made me nervous. The city neon lights beckoned through the wall of windows behind me, but a divorce attorney���s work is never done. No time to play when you���ve got custody papers to draw up and finances to review. I led quite the exciting life, no?

Head buried in papers, my nose wrinkled as I started to notice an unpleasant smell. Was it coming through the ducts? Maybe it was the rest of my tuna sandwich that was sitting in the trash. Shivers ran the length of my body as the smell got stronger, the briny unpleasant scent of a sick sea.

Pushing back from the desk slightly, I looked around the office, wondering where it could be coming from. An eerie silence enveloped me; the only sounds were my beating heart and slightly uneven breath.

A movement beckoned me from the corner of the office. My chair swiveled on its own accord and I���m treated to a show of sinewy shadows undulating, unfurling from their corporeal constraints, taking on a metaphysical life of their own.

Hands rose to eyes, trying to rub away the sleep I assumed I���d slipped under. Shadows continued to dance as the heavy, oppressive smell completely invaded my senses, tickling the gag reflex.

My pulse began to race as thoughts careened through my brain:�� I was being gassed, I had stumbled across some terrorist plot and they were coming to do away with me, I was the victim of food poisoning. It could be anything!

Shaky handed I pulled open the side desk drawer while my eyes never left the wily shadows. A lone burnt orange bottle rolled to the front from the force of the motion. Snatching it in a swift gesture, I turned the cap and tried to dump the contents into my palm��� except there was nothing there. Daring to look away from the spectacle on my wall, I peered into the bottle knowing there had been three pills there earlier. During the morning ritual, I counted and recounted and counted yet again before calling the pharmacy to refill the prescription for the strong anxiety medication.�� I couldn���t survive without it. All the breathing techniques in the world did nothing to calm my panic disorder and agoraphobia, only years of trial and error with medications had succeeded. My doctors were amazed I could function on the doses I took, but I made it work.

So what happened to the three pills? Did I take them all and was having an adverse reaction? Or did I somehow lose them and my fears were playing on my under medicated mind, making me see things that weren���t really there?

While I had been pondering the missing medication, the shadows must have come together because there was now a large blob in the middle of the wall directly across from the desk. Breath caught in my throat as I scrambled to push back further in my chair until I hit the wall of glass behind me. Now I was trapped, nowhere to go, the worst fear of all.

The figure grew and tentacle-like limbs unfolded from within, their writhing shapes stretching from corner to corner, floor to ceiling. Wet, sloppy sounds, reminding me of eager teenagers making out, filled the room as the almost unimaginable freak show extremities unattached themselves from the walls, becoming nearly three dimensional as they stretched out towards me, slow and steady.

Fetid odors of dead fish left out in the summer sun had me struggling to hold my dinner down. The roar and crashing of waves sounded in my ears, as if I was walking along a sandy shore.

None of it could be real. I lived in a landlocked state for God���s sake!

Doe-eyes wide, my head swung back and forth in denial. Sharp, manicured nails dug into my palms in the hopes that pain would snap me out of my delusions.

I noticed there was a faint glow coming from the hideous clamshell that was precariously teetering at the edge of my desk.�� As the luminescence grew brighter, the shadow gained heft, bulging and bellowing out from the wall, its suctioned limbs continuing to wind and weave their way across the room.

The chair spun out from under me and I was suddenly on my feet, back up against the glass, the cold seeping into my bones through the thin blouse and equally thin skin I possessed.

���Nononononono,��� I chanted, pulse racing like a sprinter���s, body shaking like a leaf on the wind. ���It���s not real. You���re a figment of my imagination,��� I whispered, trying to remember phrases my therapist had attempted to ingrain into my often irrational mind.

I found my hands in my hair, pulling as if to relieve myself of the silky strands. Those expensive to maintain locks seemed to turn on me, twisting and tangling around my thin digits, holding them prisoner. Salty tears started to well as if they wanted to join the ocean atmosphere that was taking over my lofty corner office. Multiple spots on my head throbbed in time with my jackrabbit heart as my hands continued to flail, trying to break free of their hirsute penitentiary.

The dim room was unexpectedly awash in a bright glowing light. Was it the clam? No, it was my phone. Someone was calling! Superhuman strength had me ripping a hand free, taking a clump of curls with it as I reached for my savior on the other end of the cellular connection. The coppery smell of blood assaulted my senses but I tried to ignore it, along with the pain. I was too busy cursing my traitorous arm that wasn���t long enough to reach salvation. I was going to have to take a step forward towards the ever growing appendages. The phone continued its occasional dance across the desk as the vibrations shook it, becoming even further out of reach.

I took that step, well as much as I could, and found myself falling forward. My body twisted like a gymnast to avoid clipping my chin on the corner of the desk. I coughed and sputtered at the sudden invasion of salt water that entered my mouth and drenched the front side of me. The free hand had broken my fall, but bent back, sending stars to my vision.

Where the hell had all this water come from? Did a pipe break? My mind whirled trying to come up with a reasonable explanation, but the only one I kept coming back to was that the water wasn���t really there at all. That had to be it. Stress and my fear-riddled brain had me seeing things, had me experiencing auditory hallucinations and phantosmia. I really needed a vacation.

Over and over in my mind I kept telling myself none of this was real. ���Just get up,��� I said aloud, demanding my body listen. As I struggled, I realized something had tripped me up in the first place, causing me to fall on my face. ��A ball of dread grew in the pit of my stomach as I squirmed enough to be able to look at my feet, soaking myself even more in the process. What I saw had me bucking like a wild bronco.

Those tentacles-like shadows were wrapped around my legs, slowly slithering up my thighs to a place no man had seen in years. It set me over the edge, allowing me to free my other trapped hand to try and save myself.�� Doing their impression of a boa constrictor, the shadows tightened around my legs, encasing them like a cocoon. I reached down to try and tear them off of me, but my hands went right through the smoky gray apparitions. How could something be holding me captive when it wasn���t even tangible?

I was able to sit up a bit-thanks daily gym habit and abs of steel-and noticed that my phone had shimmied its way off the desk, and now was laying in several inches of water. Words as foul as the surrounding smell flew from my mouth as I realized I had missed my chance. Could I get to the landline on the desktop? Would it work? Had the water risen enough to compromise the outlets? I had to try.

Grabbing the edge of the desk, I was able to get myself to my knees, the phantom limbs tightening as I went. I groped around, trying to find the giant handset. Where the hell was it?

Pins and needles invaded my lower limbs. Ischemia, my mind asked, or anxiety? I didn���t like either option, but definitely preferred one answer over the other.

I reached further, the sharp edge of the desk cutting into my chest. My fingers finally found the familiar coiled cord. Hurrah! Something was finally going my way. Pulling the wire freed the handset from its cradle and set it flying, almost into my forehead. I swore and then fumbled to put it up to my ear, praying to any and all deities that there would be a dearly beloved dial tone.

No.

Such.

Luck.

���Fuck!��� I screamed until my voice went horse. The disappointment sapped all the energy from my body and I sank down, hanging my head.�� When my hands dropped, I found my fingertips immersed in cold water. Shit. How had it gotten so much higher without me noticing?�� My singular adventure to the worthless phone must have had me ignoring everything else. A whole lot of good that did.

Maybe I could make it to the door. If I opened it, the water would have somewhere to go and maybe there would be a janitor or someone out there to help. Yes. I could do this. I could make it to the door.

I peered over my desk and the door seemed miles away. I shook my head, trying to dispel the inaccurate vision. Okay. It wasn���t really that far. I could make it. Dropping to my stomach, I immediately choked on a mouthful of briny water. Stupid idiot. Why did I have my mouth open?

Regaining my composure, as best I could anyway, I set out to army crawl my way across the room. The water had risen enough that I had to keep my chin tipped up to keep it out of the cold substance. Using my elbows, I started making my way towards the door, dragging my useless lower body along with me.

A yelp left my shivering lips as there was a sudden constriction around my ribs. I tried to look down, but the water hid my torso. I could only imagine those monster appendages had made their way up my body. I had to hurry.

I tried my best to pick up the pace, but it was exhausting and breathing was labored as the limbs continued to crush the life out of me. My whole body was numb and it was no longer possible to keep my face out of the water. Luckily, I could keep my eyes just above the frigid drink to make sure I was still going in the right direction.

When I felt a slimy tickle at my neck, I knew that was it.�� There would be no reaching the door. No releasing the water. No calling for help. My coveted corner office was going to be my watery grave.

Shaking my head side to side sent little waves of water rippling to the far corners of the room. None of this could be real. I had to just keep telling myself there was no water. There was no monster. It was all in my head. If I could just get through to myself, I could snap out of it.

I stopped struggling and squeezed my eyes so tight my face started to hurt. While chanting over and over in my mind, ���I can beat this, fear won���t conquer me,��� a slimy appendage slithered across my tightly sealed mouth. Not gagging was nearly impossible. I tried to deny it access, repeating my mantra internally, but it was persistent. It got by my yielding lips but crashed into gnashed teeth. My inner monologue was so loud now it nearly drowned out the sound of my adrenaline laced heartbeats.

What I thought was a steel resolve, shattered like a raw egg meeting the kitchen floor. The tentacular limb entered my mouth like a bullet from a gun, aiming for my throat. Eyes flashed opened and teared up at the invasive intrusion. Gag reflex more than tipped as I tried to force it up. Biting down did no better than trying to grab at it with hands. Spots danced before my eyes, a slow waltz that worked up to a techno beat.

Resistance was futile, so I gave up. A calm washed over me and my body felt as if it was floating on the gentle waves. Heavy lids closed and I fell into a peaceful slumber.

When I woke, I had this unsavory bird���s eye view of myself. People were gathered around, poking and prodding my unresponsive body. There was a cord intertwined around my legs-the thing that cause me to trip? A man stood and brushed off his hands before jotting down ���heart attack��� on the paper on his clinical clipboard. The people around him nodded in agreement with his diagnosis.

I suppose it was just fear after all: the fear of being trapped in my life, being alone, being confined to an office, regardless of how large. ��Fright was the nail in my coffin��� but wait, is that seaweed in my hair?

 

Step Out of the Comfort Zone

As I mentioned last week, I recently participated in Round 1 of the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge. Going in, I was concerned because you don’t know in advance what your parameters will be and there is not a whole lot of time to plot, if that’s your thing.

I got dealt the hand of a ghost story and thought okay, I’ve written paranormal, that’s��not a big stretch. Then the subject of agoraphobia. I had to do some research but figured I could handle it. ��Then the character��was a divorce attorney. Well…I don’t typically write adult stories. ��That’s not to say I didn’t think I could, but it was definitely out of my “teen love and awkward phases of self discovery” kind of realm.

The time limit, 8 days for the first round, was a little daunting as well. I don’t typically do a lot of plotting but I knew I couldn’t totally wing it because I’d never make it to the end of the story without knowing where it was going. Add in the 2,500 word word count meant that I couldn’t over develop ideas or themes because it could slow down the pace.

Writing it was definitely a challenge for me, but one that I thoroughly enjoyed. ��It’s good to flex your under used muscles and branch out of the comfort zone. You might be surprised at what you create. ��It could tell you that you can write outside of your genre or typical age group. It could tell you that perhaps where you are is best for your talents, but if you don’t try to spread your wings, you’ll never know if you can fly beyond��your home “town”.

Find a writing contest and give it a try. Join writing.com and pick up some of their daily writing prompts to try. We should be constantly growing as writers whether it’s polishing what we already do or by learning new techniques, forming new ideas or dipping a toe into different genres. As a writer most, if not all, of us are avid readers as well and a good story can prompt us to make changes in our own styles as well. We should be constantly evolving and becoming masters of our craft otherwise the writing could get stale and predictable. Step outside your comfort zone and take the chance. It certainly can’t hurt.

What do you do to push yourself outside of your writing comfort zone?

NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge

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Oh my! I almost forgot a blog post for today. Sorry to be short, my lovelies, but I’m busy crunching keys on a Saturday deadline (although Thursday is self imposed for my so I can read to my writing group). I am participating in the first heat of the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge.

I have a week to write a 2,500 word short that must follow the following guidelines:

Genre: Ghost Story

Subject: Agoraphobia

Character: Divorce Attorney

It’s coming along. I’m loving the vocabulary but I’m not sure there’s enough tension. We shall see.

When the round ends, would people be interested in reading it? I have yet to come up with a title, so I’ve got to work on that as well!

Anyone else participating or working on any other contest pieces?

Heavyweight News!

Ocean Co. Library
Main Branch, Toms River

If you follow my Facebook, Twitter or Tsu, you may have already read about my good news, but I wanted to make sure I posted about it here as well. Heavyweight�� is coming to libraries in NJ soon! This has me excited beyond belief.

Every writer loves to��sell books; the thought that someone is��interested enough to buy a copy makes any author��happy. Some may think that having their work in a library means less sales because people will be able to read for free (the library does buy their copy but then obviously anyone with a library card can take it out), but for me, to��know that it will be in libraries where people who wouldn’t have access to it otherwise can get a copy, makes me more than ecstatic.

LGBTQ literature is greatly under represented everywhere, but especially in libraries. ��I think having stories with LGBTQ main characters easily accessible could save a teen who feels alone or that no one understands them. They need the escape just as much as anyone else and it’s easier for them to place themselves in the story if a character has the same thoughts, concerns, feelings, desires as the main characters. I think it’s also a good opportunity to learn about the culture through stories and if someone hasn’t come out yet, it’s possible to read the books and not have people question what they’re reading (of course that will depend on the cover images and occasionally the title).

I have already contacted libraries in other counties in the hopes that they will bring in��Heavyweight or other stories from my publisher’s, Harmony Ink, catalog. While it will be great to see my books on the shelves of libraries, I would really love to see a larger selection of books in the YA/NA section over all.

If you agree, don’t hesitate to contact the YA librarian in your local libraries. ��They can look into bringing in books they don’t already carry and it’s good for them to know what’s out there.

Have you ever requested that your library try to get a specific book that they don’t carry in their system?

Authors Beware: Book Tour Disappointment

I really didn’t want to have to write this post, but I think it’s important to let other authors know about my experience with Orangeberry Book Tours.

Firstly, I didn’t spend a whole lot of money on the tour (it was less than $100 bucks) and it would run from March until August. I was due ten reviews along with the book blog posts that I had prepared for them.

The owner who runs everything was always great about answering questions and getting back to me in a very timely manner. It seemed very professional and another author who has been quite successful was affiliated with them, so I thought they were a great choice for a tour.

Things started out great. Posts were up on time and while I can’t swear it helped sales (since my publisher was also promoting and getting reviews at that time) it seemed as if it was helping to generate buzz and traffic. ��After the first couple of months, HeartBleed happened. Posts weren’t going up on time and some never got up at all. I understand that was out of Orangeberry’s control and I certainly didn’t blame them for it. ��They graciously offered additional posts or reviews to make up for it. I opted to take ten more reviews because I know how important reviews are for things like Amazon algorithms.

I started to notice that the sites my articles, interviews and teasers were being posted to didn’t seem…legit. They seemed like sites set up exclusively for Orangeberry to post to. ��There was nothing but tour related��posts. No actual interaction type posts from whoever was supposed to be running the sites. They were full of ads and��articles that had no comments. It seemed…sketchy to me.

By that time, sales had slowed down a bit and there were still no reviews.��According to the tour schedule, most (if not all) reviews would be coming from a UK book club and they wouldn’t post until the tour was over because everyone had to read the book and discuss it with their groups first. ��That’s fine, but it’s been ten months now and no reviews.

I contacted the owner who quickly got back to me and asked me to give her a couple weeks and that the reviews would be up. I agreed. ��The blog didn’t end in August like it was supposed to and carried on into September, I’m guessing to make up for the missed posts due to HeartBleed. ��That was cool so I figured waiting a couple of weeks until everything was official done would be okay.

Last post came and went and still no reviews. I finally contacted the owner again and she responded that she had just gotten a medical diagnosis that she was trying to deal with. ��She apologized and we left it at that. I like to think the best of people, which may be a little naive of me, but I didn’t want to think she would lie about such a thing. ��I was sorry to hear what she was going through but a business is a business and if she couldn’t uphold her end of the bargain, what I had paid for, then there should have been a statement issued, monies returned or something like that.

I won’t pursue it any further and I can’t positively say I got no sales due to the tour, but I definitely didn’t get what I paid for and what was promised to me. I hope others have had a good experience with them but I definitely wouldn’t recommend them to any other author looking to do their own blog tour.

Time to Start Anew

It’s been quite a while since I’ve updated, but along with the impending New Year comes the resurgence of my blogging and other writing endeavors. Goals have been made and will be shared and the lines of communication have been reopened. I’ve missed the weekly updates as well as the conversations posts have sparked and I look forward to new discussions on writing and reading related topics, on reviews and cover reveals, and on teasers and interviews.

Goals:

Firstly, Keystrokes and Word Counts will go from being updated twice a week to once. I have to be realistic on time management the ability of appropriate topics. I’m picking Wednesday, smack dab in the middle of the week, for the posts.
Secondly, sometime this year, hopefully sooner rather than later, I will get a dedicated author website up and running.  It will link back here to the blog so followers, new and old, can keep in touch. It will be for news, book information, contests, etc.
Third, I will finish editing and submit my newest work, Driven, in the very near future. Be on the lookout for upcoming teasers!
Fourth, I will finish and publish at least one other work in progress this year. I’m leaning towards Errand Girl of the Undead, but Power of the Stars has been calling to me as well. We shall see who wins out. Maybe both!
Fifth, read more! I’ve definitely been in a slump when it comes to reading lately. Things just don’t seem to be catching my attention. I think, perhaps, it has more to do with what’s being going on in my personal life.
Sixth, attend a convention or two and/or readings and signings. I really need to get back out there and get involved in workshops and conventions. Writing may not be paying the bills right now, but when people ask, I want to be able to say I’m an author and these are the things I do.

I think these are all completely obtainable goals and great things to work towards. I hope you guys will help hold me accountable!

What are your writing/reading related goals for the new year?