Cate Morgan's Blog, page 8

Blood & Steam 1: FREE FOR A DAY! (#steampunk #freebook)

Happy Fourth of July to my fellow State-siders! Celebrate your own independence with THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF ACACIA CARLISLE, starring the boldest and most unconventional of the Carlisle sisters.

He Took Her Family. She’ll Go to the Ends of the Earth to Get Them Back.

FREE JULY 4, 2015

DOWNLOAD NOW

What The HECK Is Going On With Ebook Prices Lately?! (#IWSG)

So I’ve noticed a disturbing trend with e-book pricing lately. I don’t know if it’s because of the Hatchette versus Amazon shenanigans, or if someone’s being purposely obtuse (or, quite simply, doesn’t know because the people who DO know aren’t being heard), or an astounding combination of both. I have my suspicions, but without the facts at my fingertips I’m not going to go off the rails, killing dozens of innocent passengers in the process.

Much.

I was really excited for the new Darynda Jones/Charley Davidson book. This is a series I gobble up like a Deep Old One does unsuspecting, silly cultists, spitting out little fezzes along the way. So when the new book came out I squeed all the way to my favorite online book place.

It was $12.99. For the eBook, mind. The paperback? Only $7.99.

o_O

So, basically, even though there is no extra overhead on the eBook version other than formatting, I’m still expected to pay FIVE DOLLARS MORE than a hard copy that has to be printed and shipped?

Really?

And this wasn’t the only one. The Johannes Cabal series, another I really enjoy and would like to catch up on, ALSO $12.99. Kresley Cole’s Sweet Ruin? $13.99 on a PREORDER. And not just where I normally buy books. ON AMAZON, which is (or used to be) the world’s best flea market. Amazon has built their business model on being the best-priced and most user-friendly and, generally crack-like in all its fevered, market-share gobbling glory.

But publishers, it seems, has taken a page out of the credit card company’s handbook, and wants me to pay for the convenience of having an electronic copy. And it’s not like I get a free electronic copy with my paperback, mind. It’s like they’re saying “Okay, we kinda get the popularity of eBooks now, but we don’t like it, mainly because we don’t really understand it and we, ourselves, don’t consume books this way. So we’ll be in the corner, cutting off our noses to spite our faces, thank you so very much.”

Or, in summary, “We don’t want you to buy eBooks, because that would prove us wrong in some fashion. We want to force you to buy a hard copy, so that eBook purchases will go down and, maybe, go away.”

It’s the same annoyance I feel when I TV station like TNT or CBS gives you the first five episodes of a series to get you invested, and then goes, “Whup, no—that’s all you get. If you want to see more you’ll have to watch it on normal TV with all the commercials, which may require purchasing cable service, instead of this newfangled internet thingy, which we’re pretty sure is just a trend anyway.”

Which is, essentially, tantamount to plugging your fingers in your ears and going LALALALALALA!!!

I don’t appreciate being manipulated. In fact, it is one of my few buttons. It is a BIG, RED BUTTON which summons my inner Gollum in full sugar-high toddler mode. I fight being manipulated with every fiber of my being.

This is not a rant on Evil Publishing. Because, despite some evidence to the contrary, it’s not evil. I am traditionally published, and I adore my publisher and the people I work with there.

This is a rant on those in publishing with the power to control eBook pricing. And also the way these models are structured. Because when you have Shareholders as well as Customers, that can often be conflict of interest. Amazon puts their Customers first, and tends to win a lot of the time, including with their Shareholders.

When you put your Shareholders first, however…well, then we end up with $12.99 eBooks and a host of other shenanigans that makes us look foolish and behind the times. We end up losing our integrity. (This is especially prevalent in the insurance industry, by the way.)

And just for the record, as an author I don’t want my readers paying these prices, either. (Luckily, my publisher being a digital-first publisher, they are WAY ahead of the curve—and making plenty of money, and hitting plenty of bestseller lists in the bargain). I don’t want my readers feeling manipulated. I want my readers to buy my books on THEIR terms, in a way that works for THEM.

(Also, I highly doubt that royalty percentages for authors went up when those prices did. In fact, I’m will to bet their royalties will do DOWN, as disgusted customers refuse to buy these books at all.)

That’s where I am right now, by the way. I want to support my favorite authors. I’ve been salivating for the new Kresley Cole and Darynda Jones. But I’ll go book-hungry before I validate that kind of pricing. So until these books go on sale, I’ll find other, reasonably-priced books, discover new authors, and buy my book-crack elsewhere.

*fumes*

BLOOD & STEAM: Deleted Scene 5 (#B&S)

His words from the previous night came back to her again, as they had over and over as she tossed and turned despite the liquor and food she’d consumed.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he’d said. “It tickles me something ferocious that the first thing you did when you heard about the Cass going down was to pick up your father’s gauntlet and come running with your proverbial guns a-blazin’. But first, you need to know what Lindsey gets up to, when there’s no one watching.”

Acacia’s blood started to boil, as it always did when Baron Bloody Lindsey was mentioned. “Go on.”

“What few people know or suspect is how badly the Indian Rebellion hurt the East India Trade Company. Their finances aren’t doing so hot—in fact, I’d say they’re lukewarm at best. So, on the down low, they started engaging in the African slave trade off the books. And people like Lindsey make a killing keeping it hush-hush.”

The boiling in her veins stopped, until she was downright chilled herself. “Are you telling me my brother got stuck in that?”

“I won’t lie—it’s a distinct possibility.” Drew’s eyes uncrinkled, and his smile faded. “There’s a reason Lindsey seems to go through so many officers. He loses recruits, too, but he still collects their payroll from the Company and, by extension, the Crown. But his favorite trick is recruiting folks by promising generous pay and bonuses, and rumors of fine working conditions—the best food and living quarters, that sort of thing.”

Acacia angrily set her whiskey aside, no longer in the mood for it. “It’s a bait and switch.”

Drew nodded. “The crews leaves port with an empty cargo hold, everything’s gravy until they reach their destination, generally on the Ivory Coast, and reality sets in. And here’s the rub: because of Lindsey’s royal charter, he can accuse anyone who doesn’t go along of mutiny.”

Acacia paled. She actually felt the blood leave her face. “Mutiny’s a hanging offense.”

Drew sat back, his lake blue eyes dark. “Tantamount to treason.”

Later, as he walked her back to the Icarus, he sought to reassure her. “I don’t aim to discourage you, Ladyship. But I’d be doing you a disservice if I let you gallop off without a proper lay of the land.”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for telling me the truth, Captain. It’s the only way I can make the decisions that will bring Archie home.”

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BLOOD & STEAM 1: Deleted Scenes 3 & 4 (#B&S)

Africa was another matter entirely. While Queen Victoria supported all efforts of exploration and the resultant trade, such expeditions were expensive and dangerous. A savvy Captain or expedition leader could mitigate both cost and risk by garnering grants from universities and scientific societies with a focus on exploration, and taking along some of their experts. Baron Lindsey had such support. Her father, unfortunately, did not. Robert Carlisle had made a fortune as a daring privateer, which was a barely civilized term for a pirate with a writ from the crown. Also, he was Irish, which to some minds was even worse than being French.

He had one distinct advantage over the likes of Baron Lindsey, however—the Carlisle coal mines in Australia. A certain percentage of their yield was set aside for Robert’s small but productive fleet, the rest sold across eastern hemisphere to the outlying outposts of the British Empire. It was his greatest joy to set someone up like the American with coal at a staggering discount and fund his first few journeys for a percentage of the return, and, in turn, gain the loyalty of such individuals. Robert knew what it was like to start from nothing; if he could give these intrepid captains a leg up, then he was happy to do so.

****************************************************************

Even Grana was known to turn strident now and again, usually when Jock tracked mud across her clean kitchen floors. Her brother had once thrashed another, bigger boy who’d made a comment regarding Acacia’s red hair, causing the other boy’s parents to come round to have a word. Grana had assured them she would express their displeasure to Archie, at which point they might rest assured they would see certain and almost immediate results in her grandson’s behavior.

Archie hadn’t been too put out about it, until Grana treated his knuckles with iodine. Grana expressed her displeasure to Jock while she did, and Jock had seen to it the prize Barbary stallion only just purchased as a stud for the other boy’s estate went inexplicably missing while in transit. Suspicions had turned to certainty when the Carlisles’ foaling season had proved especially prosperous that year, when they had never traded or bred horses previously. The first of the mares to be born had gone to Acacia in recompense, and she loved to imagine the other boy’s family gnashing their collective teeth whenever she rode within sight of their estate.

The moral of the story was, one didn’t incur the wrath of a Carlisle.

BLOOD & STEAM: Deleted Scene 2 (#B&S)

The problem, Acacia reflected, was that her family had not always been prosperous, nor where they English, or even Scottish, which might have been forgiven. The Carlisles were, in fact, Irish, and Acacia remembered what it was like to skirt the edge of poverty while her father sought his fortune. And found it in Australia of all places, in the emerald and coal mines. That had funded his first expedition, and it had all been roses and wine from there. Captain Robert Carlisle had been too successful, and too generous in the right places—and too popular with the Queen—to be entirely ignored or treated like an outsider. The peerage wanted her father to invest in their business ventures and help them raise capital, so they were forced to treat him as an equal, at least to his face.

Thankfully for Acacia, their father had definite Views about rearing daughters. Becca had only had a governess and presentation because she’d insisted upon it. But that governess, still with Becca as a ladies’ companion, had a mind that defied description in addition to her feminine accomplishments.

Acacia had gravitated to Archie’s tutor, and to Jock. While a largely indifferent student, she had been fascinated by history and anthropology, and possessed a keen ear for languages. And even her father had to admit she was a natural-born navigator. Maps had enthralled her from an early age. When persuaded by Becca to attempt at least one artistic accomplishment, Acacia had taken to drawing and paintings her own maps, at which point Becca had given the whole thing up as a bad job.

Lucia had started toddling around their grandfather’s laboratory and never left. Her favorite toy as a child had been his tools, so Grandpapa had made her a child-sized set for her fifth birthday. They’d been inseparable since.

Becca’s elbow burying itself in her side brought her forcefully back to the present, and just in time. The Hamiltons had arrived.

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BLOOD & STEAM: Deleted Scene 1 (#B&S)

Acacia Carlisle’s brother disappeared the day of her birthday party. She’d just turned twenty-three.

Up until that point, her birthday had been perfectly lovely. It was a bright and sunny day in August, perfect for an excursion out of doors for a bit of fresh air before half the neighborhood descended upon them. Not even the disapproving glare of her younger sister Becca could ruin her fine mood. (And really—just because a girl looked her best in breeches and boots was no reason to glower so fiercely.) Instead Acacia snatched an apple from the fruit basket in the family parlour, teased her quite proper sister in regards to imminent wrinkles, and strode off with her latest adventure novel to the folly at the edge of the property to await her father’s return.

Captain Robert Carlisle, air privateer for the queen, was often away. But Acacia did not mind overmuch. In point of fact, she longed for the day she might join him on his journeys. Word had reached his family just last week that he’d landed safely in London and could be expected home to Glen Garrogh in the upper reaches of Scotland that very day. As much as Acacia looked forward to the magnificent curios her father always brought back with him—not to mention the gifts—her greatest anticipation was for his stories. She imagined there was nowhere in the world her father hadn’t been. She hoped against hope that today would be the day he declared that Acacia would accompany him on his next trip.

Acacia supposed she could have ridden her horse to the folly instead of walked. But she had been too impatient to wait, and in any case all sensible horses grew anxious where airships were concerned. Upon landing dirigibles of any class were loud, hot, and smelly. So walk she did, taking the woodland path that eventually turned toward the sea cliffs, which offered an unparalleled view of incoming ships. Anyone who wondered why Captain Carlisle had chosen to settle his family in the Scottish wilds soon understood upon seeing it for themselves. If even just to visit.

The folly Acacia sought was a leaky stone tower standing between the estate woodland and sea cliffs, tilted like a crooked tooth and just as drafty. It was also a favorite perch of gulls and ravens alike, who had long since grown used to her presence among them. On the way she waved to their Ghillie, Jock, who had taught her from a young age everything she needed to know about fishing, hunting, and shooting. While her sisters had spent their days indoors, Becca to become the lady Acacia was most definitely not while Lucia holed up with their grandfather in his lab instead of with governesses or tutors, Acacia and her brother Archie had been out of doors with Jock, running as wild as the animals the Ghillie managed with aplomb.

She wrenched open the tower’s lopsided door that stuck in the wet and climbed the twisting stairs. At the top she uncovered her belongings from the tarp that protected them from the weather: her nest of old blankets and pillows, and a trunk filled with maps and books. Everything was perfectly arranged so she might recline back on the blankets and pillows and prop her booted feet up on the trunk, all the while managing an excellent view from the window. So this is precisely what she did.

It was not her father’s arrival that pulled Acacia from her book several hours later, but her annoyed sister. At the sound of her name, Acacia leaned from the window and tossed her apple core to the ravens.

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Author’s Log: Updates From The Word Mines (#amwriting, #ROW80)

So my Infernal Editor is, once again, running amok. But that’s okay, because I’m the one who opened his cage. Yes, on purpose. Because he has a job to do.

I have a lot of deleted scenes for Blood & Steam #1. A LOT. The Hammer was right to call me out on fun scenes that don’t progress the plot any (something I’m not usually wont to do), which I attribute to more or less pantsing my way through the first draft. She helped me restructure, and now I’m am gleaning my way through the manuscript and tossing whole chunks over my shoulder in the process. Her notes actually left me with, pretty much, a whole new outline.

It’s a lengthy, convoluted process, but I feel like I’m finally digging my way out of the worst of it. I had to write new content or repurpose existing material. In the end, I’m probably going to start posting those deleted scenes here on my website, for your mockery and amusement, MST3K style.

I anticipate the final version to be uploaded on Wednesday(ish), if all goes well. The book releases on Friday, and then I can fall over. Looking forward to it, let me tell you.

1. Draft DRAGON’S HEART Act I: I’m down to writing 3-4 times per week at the moment, because of deadline-driven revisions on Blood & Steam. I enjoyed writing Ronan’s first chapter, and getting to know him in the process. I’m just now getting past the sticky bits. The beginning is, in a word, awkward. Painfully so. But it’s DONE, by all that is holy. This is totally unlike me as a writer–my beginnings tend to be strong from the get-go–so it was really difficult for me to push through. It felt unnatural. But I persevered, for the most part.

Right now I’m continuing to draft, and waiting for that inevitable moment that will give me a better beginning.

2. Revise BLOOD & STEAM #1: Almost done. The worst is over, and now I’m starting to smooth things out, poking at things a long the way. I love this story, but I’ll be glad when it’s out the door. I want to get it back out to the Hammer this week, if at all possible.

3. Rebrand WAKING MUSE: The final covers are coming along nicely, but new jacket copies are slower to gel. If I could hire someone to do it for me, I would, but this is still a skill I want (and need) to master, so it’s taking some practice. I know it’ll get better when I get better, but at the moment I’m wanting set All The Things on fire.

I felt the same way about the violin, when I first started playing. It was difficult, twisting my hands and spine into unnatural angles, fighting to keep the bow balanced and under control, all the while imagining the beautiful music I’ll be able to play one day (and drooling over David Garrett, I won’t lie). But it’s only now, after regular practice and hand-strengthening exercises, that my arms no longer want to fall off and the bow has begun get settle comfortably in my grip, and I’m going “What was so difficult about this again?”

 

Author’s Log: Oh So Fluffy (#amwriting, #ROW80)

My Wii-Fit is passive aggressive.

Not clinically so, like Tony Soprano’s mother or anything. Just enough to be vaguely hurtful, like when your dear old Gran unexpectedly catches you in a Black Sabbath t-shirt. Every time I step on the Balance Board, it goes “Oh!”, like it isn’t quite prepared for the level of social rebellion I’m bringing to the table. “Mercy!” it’s saying, fanning its face. “That’s…well, okay then. We’ll just pretend that didn’t happen, shall we?”

Also, I gained a pound in the week I’ve been working out. So I’m thinking (hoping) that’s muscle mass, not added fluff. But I’m feeling better, and that’s something.

The sleep rehabilitation isn’t going so hot, however. I’m still up to midnight most nights, which isn’t terrible by my standards, but I still need to get to bed earlier. So I can get up earlier. But I had one day this week where I had a mild case of acid reflux (luckily nothing more severe), but it was enough discomfort that it kept me up until around 2:00am. That hasn’t happened in awhile, so I definitely need to be more careful.

Writing is going better. I created a Save The Cat outline template for both novels and novellas, including the word counts I need to hit. Now my outline looks more like an assignment or task list that I can mark off as I complete each section. Because marking things off a list is compelling as well as gratifying. I love lists!

DRAGON’S HEART is coming along much better than it started, which is saying something. I’m following my Act I outline, and ticking off each section as I hit the word counts and content laid out. The new outlining system I started works out well, since I don’t have to wonder where to begin…I just get started like I would with any other task, get my words out of the way, and mark it off. Then I move on to the next thing on my list, which is usually either Revisions or Post-Production. Tick, tick, tick go the tasks.

Speaking of which–Goals!

1. Draft DRAGON’S HEART–Act I: This initial draft is starting out messy, I won’t lie. I’m teasing out the world-building, playing with ideas. But this can all be cleaned up in revisions, when I’ve got the thing sitting in front of me in its entirely. Diagramming a story is like diagramming a sentence–it’s gotta be there before you can pull it apart into its component bits.

I have to keep reminding myself that every story is different, so trying to pound one book into the shape of the last one is an effort in futility. But once it’s done I can hone it into the shape it was meant to be in to begin with. Such is the way of craftsmanship.

2. Revise Blood & Steam #1: Two weeks from release, and it’s JUST NOW getting into shape. Carved out a lot of fun but unnecessary stuff, re-stitched the story to flow better. It’s still looking a Frankenstein-y, but it’s much better that it was. I should just make my deadline, though I’m resending the new version off to the Hammer just to be sure. Because CRIMINEY.

On June 26 I apply the lightening rods and flee from the torch-bearing hordes. I will probably fall over in the process, but I will give it my most valiant of attempts.

3. Rebrand Waking Muse: I’m in the process I’ve rewriting ALL my cover copy in hopes of making my books extra-glommy to potential readers. I’m curious to see if there’ll be an uptick in downloads for the paid stuff as well as the free. Like many writers, I hate writing synopses that boil my books down to a few paragraphs. I’m a wordy word-monkey (shock, I know), and writing synopses and/or sales copy is a special talent and takes a lot of practice.

Your turn–how’d your week go?

 

 

Author’s Log: Getting Back On Track (#amwriting, #amediting, #ROW80)

So I’m kind of proud of myself.

Editor Awesome got back to me regarding Keepers of the Flame #4, and ultimately decided not to go with it after much deliberation, citing sales issues with the subgenre (apocalyptic fantasy) and the declining sales with each book in the series.

Perfectly understandable. It makes business sense for my publisher, especially as these are novellas spaced a year or more apart. The old me might have been devastated, or at least severely disappointed, and I would have had to force myself not to take it personally.

But I’m okay. This was nothing more than a blip in the radar for me. And that is because I’ve currently got enough books in various states of production (a.k.a. The Hopper) to fire off in the meantime. I simply move my Keepers series into the Self-Published lane (i.e. the Fast Lane), and let the next book I’m looking to publish traditionally into Keeper 4‘s place.

I’ve been running my writing business AS a business for the better part of two years now, making sure to create lots of content, and one of the benefits of doing so means I have options. Simply by the law of averages SOMETHING’S gotta hit, and hit hard. Because I’ve striving to get better at my craft and process EVERY TIME. And I’m always busy–certainly too busy to bite my nails over one rejection.

But let me be very clear: I still love my publisher, and my editor there. They’re amazing, and the awesome in the sauce. Sometimes business decisions just have to be made. They made a business decision, not a personal one, and so now I’m making my own business decision as a result, and not a personal one. Savvy?

In additional to all this, I made some personal goals and announced them on Wednesday’s post for the Insecure Writer’s Support Group, all to do with health and fitness and not just making time to write (that I have), but making the mental energy to write. Because that part I’m not so good at. I’ll check in on that one once a month, so I’m accountable to someone other than just myself.

So there’s that. And, now, there’s goals:

1. Draft DRAGON’S HEART–ACT I: The thing(s) that have been giving me issues in the first part of Act I seem to have been resolved, and I’m back to the frantic typeity-typeity in an effort to catch up. Which is good, because I’m scheduled to skid into Act II next month, so it looks like I’m going to have to start double-drafting again. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. As long as I have a solid outline and the details worked out, I’ll be fine.

No, really. PERFECTLY FINE.

*hyperventilates*

What?

2. Rewrite BLOOD & STEAM #1: This week I finished RE-outlining the plot, and managed to disentangle both some especially knotty plot-knots and slay my facing issues in Act II. AND I managed to save my kraken scene, which I was worried about, because what’s Steampunk without krakens?

YAY, KRAKENS!!

3. Rebrand Waking Muse: The new cover art for HEARTH & HOME (Waking Muse #2) is nearly complete–it just needs titling and some final polish. On Friday I got started on redoing FALLEN ANGEL (Waking Muse #3).

This weekend I’m going through Libby Hawker’s Gotta Read It in preparation to evaluating and rewriting all my jacket copy.

I really feel like I’m getting back into the swing of things after slogging and flailing around a bit. I’m getting more sleep, which I’m sure is improving things, and I’ve started exercising again. Feel better, do better–that’s my new motto. Right after “Where’s My Boomstick?”

Your turn! How are you guys doing in the run up to summer?

 

Making More Than Time To Write (#IWSG)

“I wish I had more time to write.”

I hear it all the time, mainly from myself. This is ironic, considering I am a time organizational nerd. No one loves a new organizer and packet of highlighters like me. I love the logistics behind the planning of my blocks of time, my to-do lists, and that little boost I get from marking something complete.

But then there’s that whole work/life balance thing. I know, logically, that making the time to write comes from prioritization. As I learned from Franklin Covey, it’s easy enough to identify and lock in those Big Rocks (Roles), and let the minutia avalanche of small rocks fall where they may. I may have the time, but I don’t always have the mental energy to focus on what needs to get done. Sometimes, I’m just bone tired. The body is willing, but the mind is all “Sod that.”

This especially happens when I look around my house and think about everything that needs to get done. Laundry. Dishes. Purging All The Things we don’t need, because the mess and clutter is as exhausting as most anything else. And then I have to go back to playing Big Rocks/Little Rocks and remind myself of what’s truly important.

It’s fortunate (at least for me) that I don’t have kids (by choice). But I have a full time job that I really like and that sometimes affords me the downtime I need to plan out my next story, or hack the current draft to pieces in a notebook while massive reports are downloading. It turns out this is when I tend to be most productive, because by the time I get home to my husband, I’m usually not in the mood to flip open the laptop and get to work. It’s much more tempting to flip the brain off instead.

But, dammit, I get things done. This is what I do. There’s a list, I hack and slash my way though it like Xena through a bunch of poor, hapless extras, fire off a quippy one-liner, and swan off in the satisfaction of job well done. I am, usually, a producing bad-ass.

Not lately. This is more than just needing some mental space between me and the writing in order to recharge. I should be recharged, but I’m not. I feel like a defective modem. My internal CPU is burnt to a crisp.

So here’s some things I’m looking to change:

Get a proper amount of sleep. This means no more Netflix binges past midnight.
Get back into shape. (Yes, I know rolly-poly is a shape.) A little less than twenty years ago I was in the theatre, a dancer, and a dance teacher. And I was good. However, I’m now nowhere near fighting trim. My diet’s more or less okay (if a little more prone to cheese than is strictly necessary). It’s the exercise I need to be getting on with, especially now that Convention season if fast approaching. I’m looking to drop twenty pounds by August, in time for my local Comic Con.
Do something non-writing related to warm up the mental muscles. This means getting back to my piano, and practice my violin more, both of which has the added benefit of killing two birds with one stone since I’ve wanted to dedicate more time to music for awhile now. This will get the fingers moving as well as the brain, and I always feel better, physically and mentally, after having played music.

So that’s the scoop. I plan on reporting in every month during IWSG to let y’all know I’m getting on, because accountability is the best way to get my butt into gear. Even if that gear is first.

How about you guys? How do you keep the writing train going when it threatens to stall out?