Meradeth Houston's Blog, page 18
July 6, 2016
After Reading: THOSE WE FEAR by Victoria Griffith
What do you get when you cross The Turn of the Screw and Jane Eyre with Psycho? Victoria Griffith's latest thriller. When Maria becomes a summertime au pair to the children of a Scottish lord, she discovers the family is living under the shadow of two suspicious deaths. Vanishing portraits, cloaked figures, and bizarre shrines add up to a compelling Modern Gothic psychological mystery. (Goodreads)
So this was a short, fun read. The tension and pacing definitely kept me awake and the pages turning! I particularly enjoyed it for seeing how the author kept things happening, setting the pace high and never letting it slack. The setting was great, too; in isolated Scotland with all the mists and mysteries that go along with it. The main character, Maria, was well drawn and definitely going through something terrible, which became clearer as the story unfolded (though admittedly the truth about what happened to her mother felt off to me). The story itself reminded me the most of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, with a heathy sprinkling of Jane Eyre tossed in as well. Overall, a fun read with a refreshingly realistic ending that I appreciated. If you're looking for something a little dark, a little suspenseful, and definitely a little creepy, check this one out!
July 4, 2016
#flashfiction The Spirit of Independence Day lives on
Happy 4th of July to all my state-side friends :) And happy summertime to everyone else! I hope July is off to a great start. I thought I'd re-post a little piece from last year that I wrote for the flash-fiction blog I belonged to. It was a bit of American Gods channeling (well, I don't know if I can really say that, but that's what I was going for!). Hope you enjoy!
***
The last of the smoke cleared from the fireworks that had lit the bay. The booming thunderclaps had scared the last dogs and the crowds gathered their blankets and chairs. The trickle of people headed home were a little quieter, their voices still filled with happiness, but now muted by the night.
“Ready?” He leaned over and bumped my shoulder with his own, a small grin lighting up his features as I looked at him.
I sighed. The end always came too quickly. The light from the show over too soon. I didn’t want to go back. If only there were a way to pause, let the night linger for just a few more hours.
“I guess.” He stood and held out a hand, pulling me to my feet with a little added force that made me run into him.
His arms caught around me, tugging me close as he rocked us around in a slow circle on the lawn. The lawn around us had nearly emptied and the calm of the night, the rush and hiss of the surf past the low wall, marked a perfect moment.
“Another year,” I whispered. His neck felt cool against my forehead as I leaned against him.
“One of many more.”
I didn’t respond. So many ‘ifs’ clung to that word that I didn’t dare think too much about it. We could only hope for many more. Our lives depended on it.
We gathered up our things, folding them away into a bag he slung over his shoulder. He took my hand as we walked up the path toward the city lights. A few other stragglers trickled out onto the busier street, the clog of traffic still creating a long line at the freeway entrance.
We kept walking, no real destination in mind.
These last few hours were the sweetest. The ones I cherished the most, even if the always heralded the end.
“What did you like best about today?” he asked. His hand twined with mine squeezed a little tighter.
I cocked my head to the side, pretending to think it over. While the fireworks were always my favorite, today had more things to celebrate. “The laughter.” There had seemed to be more today. More faces smiling. This city we visited so infrequently had felt happier. It rang out in smiles and the laughter of the faces we watched.
The answer seemed to please him and our arms swung as we walked along the lit sidewalks, passing parties and sparklers and music that spilled out to greet us.
“The peace,” he said, with a shrug, knowing I’d want to know his response.
“You always say that.” I laughed at how obvious an answer it was, coming from him.
“Doesn’t make it less true.” His dark eyes met mine and the night with all its wonders seemed to expand before us, ignoring the end that approached all too fast.
Almost seeming to respond to our good mood, a siren, then two, cut through the air. They slid under my skin and I shivered, drawing closer to him.
The source of need came clear as we walked. Two blocks away and we smelled it. Flames. Our pace picked up. The heat came next, burning away at the ocean mist that swallowed the city.
An officer, face grimy and eyes too wide, kept the crowd from getting too close. We joined the throng, but even the hushed whispers of horror couldn’t drown the screams.
A Church. One of the oldest in the city. And faces and hands beat at the windows in the second story, the roar of orange flickering flames licking at the same glass. The leaded windows were too hard to break.
On the lawn, it was almost worse. The gathered people, wrapped in the silvery blankets handed out by the EMT’s, sobbed and pleaded for something to be done.
The words, scrawled in giant white letters, seemed to glow in glare from the police searchlights. Hate grew from them, impossible to ignore. Those around me stiffened as they read, no one wanting to believe someone could have done this on purpose. Not on this night. Not in this country.
Arms went around me and I tried to let that comfort me, but this scene seemed to eat away at every bit of happiness from the day, consume each of the laughing faces I’d seen and joined with.
“Remember, it’s just one event,” his voice spoke in my ear. A quiet reminder to hold on to the good.
“Why does it have to be this way?”
“If we understood that…” he shook his head. His eyes completed the sentence: if we understood the why of why people stove so hard to take away the liberty, the freedom, the very lives of so many, then we might have a chance to fight back.
But we didn’t understand. It went against everything we could see and understand.
We watched, my hands pressed against my mouth like I could hold in the scream of dread that settled in my throat—hot and prickly. The flames couldn’t be stopped. The police forced us back.
The Church collapsed.
Parents wailed.
The crowd cried.
I had to look away and pressed my face against his chest, soaking his shirt with tears.
His lips pressed against my cheek before his breath rushed warm in my ear. “Look.”
I followed his finger toward the opposite side of street. There, the house that stood there had thrown open its doors, and a couple with their two children pulled people into the warmth of their lights, pressed water bottles into hands, offered blankets to the shell-shocked people who watched.
“Is it enough?” I breathed the question.
“For now.”
The tug that caught at my lower back signaled the time. We needed to go. Without looking at one another, he took my hand and led me down the street. Around the corner and into the shadows.
“Next year?” he asked, already a whisper as we faded.
“Will we be able?” I hated asking the question, spoiling the last moments together. But I wondered. The power that gave us this one day, the ability to feel and touch and celebrate the feelings that gave us shape. The beliefs of so many that literally breathed life into us for this single day. Could it last another year after what we’d seen tonight?
“Don’t doubt it. Same time, same place. Next year. These people aren’t free of us yet.” His smile was warm, confident, and I knew it was mostly for me. For comfort.
My fingers were numb and the feeling reached up my arms, wrapping around me so I couldn’t feel his embrace any longer.
And then, with a rush of wind, we were gone until the next Independence Day.
***
The last of the smoke cleared from the fireworks that had lit the bay. The booming thunderclaps had scared the last dogs and the crowds gathered their blankets and chairs. The trickle of people headed home were a little quieter, their voices still filled with happiness, but now muted by the night. “Ready?” He leaned over and bumped my shoulder with his own, a small grin lighting up his features as I looked at him.
I sighed. The end always came too quickly. The light from the show over too soon. I didn’t want to go back. If only there were a way to pause, let the night linger for just a few more hours.
“I guess.” He stood and held out a hand, pulling me to my feet with a little added force that made me run into him.
His arms caught around me, tugging me close as he rocked us around in a slow circle on the lawn. The lawn around us had nearly emptied and the calm of the night, the rush and hiss of the surf past the low wall, marked a perfect moment.
“Another year,” I whispered. His neck felt cool against my forehead as I leaned against him.
“One of many more.”
I didn’t respond. So many ‘ifs’ clung to that word that I didn’t dare think too much about it. We could only hope for many more. Our lives depended on it.
We gathered up our things, folding them away into a bag he slung over his shoulder. He took my hand as we walked up the path toward the city lights. A few other stragglers trickled out onto the busier street, the clog of traffic still creating a long line at the freeway entrance.
We kept walking, no real destination in mind.
These last few hours were the sweetest. The ones I cherished the most, even if the always heralded the end.
“What did you like best about today?” he asked. His hand twined with mine squeezed a little tighter.
I cocked my head to the side, pretending to think it over. While the fireworks were always my favorite, today had more things to celebrate. “The laughter.” There had seemed to be more today. More faces smiling. This city we visited so infrequently had felt happier. It rang out in smiles and the laughter of the faces we watched.
The answer seemed to please him and our arms swung as we walked along the lit sidewalks, passing parties and sparklers and music that spilled out to greet us.
“The peace,” he said, with a shrug, knowing I’d want to know his response.
“You always say that.” I laughed at how obvious an answer it was, coming from him.
“Doesn’t make it less true.” His dark eyes met mine and the night with all its wonders seemed to expand before us, ignoring the end that approached all too fast.
Almost seeming to respond to our good mood, a siren, then two, cut through the air. They slid under my skin and I shivered, drawing closer to him.
The source of need came clear as we walked. Two blocks away and we smelled it. Flames. Our pace picked up. The heat came next, burning away at the ocean mist that swallowed the city.
An officer, face grimy and eyes too wide, kept the crowd from getting too close. We joined the throng, but even the hushed whispers of horror couldn’t drown the screams.
A Church. One of the oldest in the city. And faces and hands beat at the windows in the second story, the roar of orange flickering flames licking at the same glass. The leaded windows were too hard to break.
On the lawn, it was almost worse. The gathered people, wrapped in the silvery blankets handed out by the EMT’s, sobbed and pleaded for something to be done.
The words, scrawled in giant white letters, seemed to glow in glare from the police searchlights. Hate grew from them, impossible to ignore. Those around me stiffened as they read, no one wanting to believe someone could have done this on purpose. Not on this night. Not in this country.
Arms went around me and I tried to let that comfort me, but this scene seemed to eat away at every bit of happiness from the day, consume each of the laughing faces I’d seen and joined with.
“Remember, it’s just one event,” his voice spoke in my ear. A quiet reminder to hold on to the good.
“Why does it have to be this way?”
“If we understood that…” he shook his head. His eyes completed the sentence: if we understood the why of why people stove so hard to take away the liberty, the freedom, the very lives of so many, then we might have a chance to fight back.
But we didn’t understand. It went against everything we could see and understand.
We watched, my hands pressed against my mouth like I could hold in the scream of dread that settled in my throat—hot and prickly. The flames couldn’t be stopped. The police forced us back.
The Church collapsed.
Parents wailed.
The crowd cried.
I had to look away and pressed my face against his chest, soaking his shirt with tears.
His lips pressed against my cheek before his breath rushed warm in my ear. “Look.”
I followed his finger toward the opposite side of street. There, the house that stood there had thrown open its doors, and a couple with their two children pulled people into the warmth of their lights, pressed water bottles into hands, offered blankets to the shell-shocked people who watched.
“Is it enough?” I breathed the question.
“For now.”
The tug that caught at my lower back signaled the time. We needed to go. Without looking at one another, he took my hand and led me down the street. Around the corner and into the shadows.
“Next year?” he asked, already a whisper as we faded.
“Will we be able?” I hated asking the question, spoiling the last moments together. But I wondered. The power that gave us this one day, the ability to feel and touch and celebrate the feelings that gave us shape. The beliefs of so many that literally breathed life into us for this single day. Could it last another year after what we’d seen tonight?
“Don’t doubt it. Same time, same place. Next year. These people aren’t free of us yet.” His smile was warm, confident, and I knew it was mostly for me. For comfort.
My fingers were numb and the feeling reached up my arms, wrapping around me so I couldn’t feel his embrace any longer.
And then, with a rush of wind, we were gone until the next Independence Day.
June 29, 2016
Book Blitz: TUNED INTO YOU by Cindy Dorminy
I have a lovely book to chat about today by a fellow BookFish author! Check this out:
A summer party is the last place Lydia Flowers wants to be. Beer pong? Stupid, foot-wrecking shoes? Random hookups? No thanks. Lydia would rather be in her cleats practicing her bat handling skills.
Enter Abe Fischer, the Nashville Teen Idol superstar. He’s a lip-syncing party animal with a short fuse; or at least that’s what the tabloids say. Except, Abe turns out to be nothing like the guy Lydia’s read about online. He’s sweet, and the way he talks to his horse…sigh.
Then life throws Lydia and Abe a curveball. They are wrongfully arrested for destruction of property. Their choices? Either work on the Fischer Farm for the summer earning nothing more than blisters and a sunburn, or have the arrest go on their records, which would ruin Lydia’s shot at a softball scholarship. It’s a no-brainer. Lydia picks up a pitchfork, pulls out the SPF 40, and prepares for the worst two months of her life.
When the press gets wind of a big secret Abe’s family has been keeping, things become even more complicated. Now Lydia has another choice to make: stick around for Abe’s messed-up life in the spotlight, or go for the scholarship of her dreams.
SNAG A COPY!
About the Author
Cindy Dorminy grew up on a steady diet of popcorn (the kind you pop in a sauce pan), Tab (pre-Diet Coke), and movies for teenagers. She can’t let a day go by without quoting a line from one of her favorite films, so quirky dialogue is a must in her stories. When she’s not at her research coordinator day job, Cindy is writing funny love stories, walking her dog, or slinging iron the old-fashioned way. She shares her house with her musician husband, her awesome daughter, and a cool, four-footed child that would eat all the cheese if she could figure out how to open the refrigerator. Cindy is a member of Romance Writers of America and Music City Romance Writers. She resides in Nashville, TN where live music can be heard everywhere, even at the grocery store.
Find Cindy OnlineFacebook: Email: Goodreads: Twitter: Website
a Rafflecopter giveaway
A summer party is the last place Lydia Flowers wants to be. Beer pong? Stupid, foot-wrecking shoes? Random hookups? No thanks. Lydia would rather be in her cleats practicing her bat handling skills.Enter Abe Fischer, the Nashville Teen Idol superstar. He’s a lip-syncing party animal with a short fuse; or at least that’s what the tabloids say. Except, Abe turns out to be nothing like the guy Lydia’s read about online. He’s sweet, and the way he talks to his horse…sigh.
Then life throws Lydia and Abe a curveball. They are wrongfully arrested for destruction of property. Their choices? Either work on the Fischer Farm for the summer earning nothing more than blisters and a sunburn, or have the arrest go on their records, which would ruin Lydia’s shot at a softball scholarship. It’s a no-brainer. Lydia picks up a pitchfork, pulls out the SPF 40, and prepares for the worst two months of her life.
When the press gets wind of a big secret Abe’s family has been keeping, things become even more complicated. Now Lydia has another choice to make: stick around for Abe’s messed-up life in the spotlight, or go for the scholarship of her dreams.
SNAG A COPY!
About the AuthorCindy Dorminy grew up on a steady diet of popcorn (the kind you pop in a sauce pan), Tab (pre-Diet Coke), and movies for teenagers. She can’t let a day go by without quoting a line from one of her favorite films, so quirky dialogue is a must in her stories. When she’s not at her research coordinator day job, Cindy is writing funny love stories, walking her dog, or slinging iron the old-fashioned way. She shares her house with her musician husband, her awesome daughter, and a cool, four-footed child that would eat all the cheese if she could figure out how to open the refrigerator. Cindy is a member of Romance Writers of America and Music City Romance Writers. She resides in Nashville, TN where live music can be heard everywhere, even at the grocery store.
Find Cindy OnlineFacebook: Email: Goodreads: Twitter: Website
a Rafflecopter giveaway
June 27, 2016
Dog Walking Do's and Don'ts
I have something a little different today as the cool people over at Rover asked me to publish a post about dog walking :) Because Kate-the-Great is my constant companion, and she and I have spent a whole lot of time working on her leash skills, I thought I'd post a few of my personal thoughts on the matter!
Kate and the flowerbeds. Her desire to excavate them is a whole other story :)Kate came to me as a shelter pup with no previous training. I've had her for almost a year now and she's made leaps of progress in most every area: potty training, not being scared of stairs, being more confident with strangers, not barking at everything, and is in general just the best little love-bug on the planet. (I could gush about her for ages!) But there are times when we come across situations, or other dogs, that can make our walks a bit of a struggle. There's definitely an etiquette to walking your dog.
A few good things to do while walking:
Stick to paths where dogs are allowed. They're usually marked, and for good reason :)Keep your dog on-leash if they're going to stray from your side. I don't know how many times
Kate, guarding the front yard.I've been hiking, either alone or with Kate, and come across dogs off-leash. Now, I totally get why an owner might want to do that, but I get a little scared. Are the dogs friendly? Are they going to harm Kate? Me? I have no idea. And if there's not an owner close, I have no way of knowing.Let the dogs sniff butts. So long as they're being friendly, why not let the dogs have a moment or two to "meet"? I always feel a little sad when an owner pulls their dog away before Kate can meet-&-greet. She needs that interaction.Keep the leash short. Just because it can extend for twelve feet doesn't mean it needs to. Sometimes that leads to more problems, not the least of which is getting tied in a knot by a little rat terrier (*ahem* Kate).Always, always, always bring supplies to pick up after your pet. No one likes stepping in dog-do. Nor the smell of it. So do everyone a favor and pick it up.A few other things that you may want to avoid:Not picking up after your pet. Redundant? Yep. And for a good reason. It's smelly, gross, and
Kate, the day I adopted her from
the Sacramento SPCA.often leads to people being upset with dogs in general. Plus, it's just good manners.Forgetting that you're the one in charge, not the dog :) Sometimes I see big dogs hauling their petite owners down the sidewalk, which may be hard to help, but for the most part it's in a dog's nature to obey it's pack leader. Overall, this leads to a happier dog owner and pet.Unhappy dogs? Go around. Sometimes Kate acts like a totally unsociable pain around other dogs. She'll growl and act like she's going to get aggressive, often for no reason I can see. I am always so embarrassed! But when this happens, I keep that short leash close and give the other dogs space, and really hope that next time they meet they'll find more common ground.These are a few of the things I think about while out with Kate. There are definitely more. I'd love for you to chime in with any ideas on what you do while walking your dog, or when you encounter dogs while walking?
And do check out Rover: their dog walking and boarding services are great! Definitely a good resources for helping out dog owners.
Kate and the flowerbeds. Her desire to excavate them is a whole other story :)Kate came to me as a shelter pup with no previous training. I've had her for almost a year now and she's made leaps of progress in most every area: potty training, not being scared of stairs, being more confident with strangers, not barking at everything, and is in general just the best little love-bug on the planet. (I could gush about her for ages!) But there are times when we come across situations, or other dogs, that can make our walks a bit of a struggle. There's definitely an etiquette to walking your dog.A few good things to do while walking:
Stick to paths where dogs are allowed. They're usually marked, and for good reason :)Keep your dog on-leash if they're going to stray from your side. I don't know how many times
Kate, guarding the front yard.I've been hiking, either alone or with Kate, and come across dogs off-leash. Now, I totally get why an owner might want to do that, but I get a little scared. Are the dogs friendly? Are they going to harm Kate? Me? I have no idea. And if there's not an owner close, I have no way of knowing.Let the dogs sniff butts. So long as they're being friendly, why not let the dogs have a moment or two to "meet"? I always feel a little sad when an owner pulls their dog away before Kate can meet-&-greet. She needs that interaction.Keep the leash short. Just because it can extend for twelve feet doesn't mean it needs to. Sometimes that leads to more problems, not the least of which is getting tied in a knot by a little rat terrier (*ahem* Kate).Always, always, always bring supplies to pick up after your pet. No one likes stepping in dog-do. Nor the smell of it. So do everyone a favor and pick it up.A few other things that you may want to avoid:Not picking up after your pet. Redundant? Yep. And for a good reason. It's smelly, gross, and
Kate, the day I adopted her fromthe Sacramento SPCA.often leads to people being upset with dogs in general. Plus, it's just good manners.Forgetting that you're the one in charge, not the dog :) Sometimes I see big dogs hauling their petite owners down the sidewalk, which may be hard to help, but for the most part it's in a dog's nature to obey it's pack leader. Overall, this leads to a happier dog owner and pet.Unhappy dogs? Go around. Sometimes Kate acts like a totally unsociable pain around other dogs. She'll growl and act like she's going to get aggressive, often for no reason I can see. I am always so embarrassed! But when this happens, I keep that short leash close and give the other dogs space, and really hope that next time they meet they'll find more common ground.These are a few of the things I think about while out with Kate. There are definitely more. I'd love for you to chime in with any ideas on what you do while walking your dog, or when you encounter dogs while walking?
And do check out Rover: their dog walking and boarding services are great! Definitely a good resources for helping out dog owners.
June 22, 2016
After Reading: THE RED WRAITH by Nick Wisseman
As magic awakens in Early America, Naysin, a child of the Lepane nation, manifests talents that cause him to defile his tribe’s harvest ceremony. His punishment is exile. In the years that follow, Naysin’s spirit fathers keep goading him into misusing his abilities. On the island of Bimshire, he inspires a slave rebellion before abandoning it; near his former home, he marches European settlers to their deaths; and in the forests of Edgeland, he ends a battle by massacring both sides. Such acts cause much of the New World to see him as the Red Wraith, an indigenous monster who delights in butchering white innocents. The infamy is well-earned, but that’s not who he wants to be. And when he encounters a group of fellow magic-users, Naysin realizes how he can set everything right. (Goodreads)I am so behind on books this year...oh well. I am reading at least :)
I went into this novel a little wary of some of the concepts: I work closely with many Native American populations and individuals and am very aware of the stereotypes that arise in literature. Many times it's downright painful. Thankfully I felt that Wisseman managed to take a relatively authentic view of the population...well, with added magic. And this magic was not just found in Native Americans, nor part of their faith or society (something that J. K. Rowling has received a good deal of criticism for in some of her recent releases that utilize Native American society as "magical"). That is a whole other story :) Anyhow, Wisseman presents an interesting novel here, one that I did enjoy. I will admit that it was a bit tedious at times, as the pacing would slow a great deal. A huge amount of inner dialogue left me skimming at time. Also Naysin's "fathers," who possess him, get a huge chunk of the ending of the novel, which bogged things down for me. I never felt a connection to them, and their story didn't draw me in. Overall, this was an interesting alternate history. I did really like how Wisseman took pains to show what happened to Native American society in the face of the overwhelming death toll that Smallpox took on the continents when Europeans brought it here (and people think the Black Death was bad--it had nothing on what happened in the Americas). If you are into historical fiction with a dash of magic, this is one to check out.
June 20, 2016
Book Blitz: A LOVE THAT DISTURBS by Medeia Sharif
It's always a treat to get to share another author's work, and Medeia's books are amazing! Check this one out:
A LOVE THAT DISTURBS by Medeia Sharif
Evernight Teen , June 17, 2016
Purchase from Amazon (merchant sites will be updated on the author's site)
Maysa Mazari is alarmed by her mother’s talk about arranged marriage. As a hijab-wearing Pakistani-American, she wants to find love on her own. Her judgmental Muslim clique has protected her from racist taunts, although the leader is turning on her as Maysa strays from the group because of her attraction to Haydee.
Haydee Gomez is a former gang member and juvenile detention student. Now living with a clean-cut aunt, she wants to turn her life around, even though one person will never let her forget her roots—Rafe, her abusive pimp. Haydee attempts to pull away from a life of prostitution when she develops feelings for Maysa, although Rafe isn’t willing to give her up too easily.
Finding themselves in danger from Maysa’s friends and Haydee’s pimp, it’s apparent their love disturbs everyone around them as they fight to stay together.
Find Medeia – YA and MG Author
Blog | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Amazon
A LOVE THAT DISTURBS by Medeia SharifEvernight Teen , June 17, 2016
Purchase from Amazon (merchant sites will be updated on the author's site)
Maysa Mazari is alarmed by her mother’s talk about arranged marriage. As a hijab-wearing Pakistani-American, she wants to find love on her own. Her judgmental Muslim clique has protected her from racist taunts, although the leader is turning on her as Maysa strays from the group because of her attraction to Haydee.
Haydee Gomez is a former gang member and juvenile detention student. Now living with a clean-cut aunt, she wants to turn her life around, even though one person will never let her forget her roots—Rafe, her abusive pimp. Haydee attempts to pull away from a life of prostitution when she develops feelings for Maysa, although Rafe isn’t willing to give her up too easily.
Finding themselves in danger from Maysa’s friends and Haydee’s pimp, it’s apparent their love disturbs everyone around them as they fight to stay together.
Find Medeia – YA and MG Author
Blog | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Amazon
June 15, 2016
Why I Want to Quit Facebook (but haven't quite yet)
Okay, I'm going to be real honest here: I kind of hate facebook. I sign in lately and feel like a lot of it is a barrage of political fervor, weird little videos, and the occasional personal post (though often these are by friends who post these personal thoughts a whole lot...). It's these last bits that I enjoy the most, and sometimes I find myself laughing at other things I come across, but I also am royally annoyed on a pretty regular basis. And, to be real honest, it's a super time-suck. I waste too much time there and even though I try to limit myself as much as possible, it draws me back all too often.So, I have my reasons I'd love to quit the site: my blood pressure, seeing too much of the idiocy that is found in my country, and he fact that it's often wasted time.
Yet I stay on the site for a few reasons: I have real-life friends on there who I enjoy seeing what they're up to from time to time. There are some people whose opinions on politics/current events are close to my own and I enjoy seeing what they have to say. But most of all I stay because of the pages I run, both for my books and for my department at work. Both of these require monitoring and I am always trawling for more interesting posts. So many of my facebook visits start with: "I need to post on this page today, so let's see if anyone has something cool I could share over onto it"...and then I find myself mindlessly scrolling through posts :)I'm not proud of it, but I am pretty addicted to it. The bad kind of addiction, the one that I wish I could quit but seem to be too roped into to see a way out. The site that I do enjoy is Instagram, where I love seeing other people's amazing photography and the occasional funny post. It feels way more relaxing and enjoyable if I want to scroll through something.
So, I'm curious, what are your thoughts on facebook? Have you quit? What keeps you going back?
June 13, 2016
Monday Musings: Marketing, or the lack thereof #amwriting
It's Monday the 13th, which somehow feels more painful than Friday the 13th. Sure, there may be bad luck on the latter, but at least it's Friday with the whole weekend to deal with it. Monday, well, it's just Monday.
I love making these images, but they feel kind of spammy
sometimes, and finding quotes never feels very successful.
So, yeah. Marketing. I find myself totally and completely at a loss for it this summer. I haven't done much of anything lately due to personal reasons and my sales show this. I should find a way to get back in the game, but I've been at a loss. Try a book tour again? Do some giveaways? Post snippets online and hope people don't think I'm spamming them? And of course all of this makes me ponder the balance between doing that and not writing more, which is of course what I'd rather be doing. Marketing at this point is definitely a struggle, especially while I wait for word on submissions by my agent. I'd love it if my sales proved to potential editors that I'm worth the risk, but I also feel massively paralyzed that I'm not going to be making a difference to begin with.
One of the ideas I've had lurking around is placing some of my short stories up on Wattpad in hopes of getting a bit more coverage. I keep getting discouraged by this thought as I don't have any sort of cover for them and am not really up for paying someone with skills to do that kind of thing. Has anyone done this before? Thoughts? Suggestions?
I know there are plenty of ways to get my marketing plan back up and running, but I'll admit each feel a whole lot like screaming into the void. This shouldn't be so discouraging, but it does feel that way. So, here's my thought: Anyone want to do a little blog cross-posting this summer? It's a start and I hope that's better than nothing!
I love making these images, but they feel kind of spammysometimes, and finding quotes never feels very successful.
So, yeah. Marketing. I find myself totally and completely at a loss for it this summer. I haven't done much of anything lately due to personal reasons and my sales show this. I should find a way to get back in the game, but I've been at a loss. Try a book tour again? Do some giveaways? Post snippets online and hope people don't think I'm spamming them? And of course all of this makes me ponder the balance between doing that and not writing more, which is of course what I'd rather be doing. Marketing at this point is definitely a struggle, especially while I wait for word on submissions by my agent. I'd love it if my sales proved to potential editors that I'm worth the risk, but I also feel massively paralyzed that I'm not going to be making a difference to begin with.
One of the ideas I've had lurking around is placing some of my short stories up on Wattpad in hopes of getting a bit more coverage. I keep getting discouraged by this thought as I don't have any sort of cover for them and am not really up for paying someone with skills to do that kind of thing. Has anyone done this before? Thoughts? Suggestions?
I know there are plenty of ways to get my marketing plan back up and running, but I'll admit each feel a whole lot like screaming into the void. This shouldn't be so discouraging, but it does feel that way. So, here's my thought: Anyone want to do a little blog cross-posting this summer? It's a start and I hope that's better than nothing!
June 8, 2016
Wednesday Funnies
Soooooo, guess who didn't get any blog posts ready for this week? Me. Guess who isn't really in the mood to deal with it? Me. Guess who decided it would be more fun to post silly images? Me. Enjoy!
Who has seen the new Austen film?
I love her. Especially as I totally feel like this most days.
I should not have laughed as hard as I did at this.
Truth.
This kind of trips me out.
Worst. Feeling. Ever.
*snort laugh* You're welcome.
Who has seen the new Austen film?
I love her. Especially as I totally feel like this most days.
I should not have laughed as hard as I did at this.
Truth.
This kind of trips me out.
Worst. Feeling. Ever.
*snort laugh* You're welcome. June 2, 2016
Thankful Thursdays: halfway through 2016
I have been scratching my head about what to post about today and realized that due to the holiday I'm off my normal schedule, which means I'll be posting on a Thursday. Along with that, it's been far too long since I've taken a few minutes to think about those things that I am most grateful for. With all of the rather difficult things of late (2016 so far has been pretty hard--something I've tried not to dwell on too much), but there have been some amazing things as well. So, a few of the things I am grateful for:
The physical anthropologists beingour normal ape-like selves.My family and friends. They've made this year bearable in ways that I never could have foreseen, and I love them for it!My job, which really is fabulous. Science life in academia can be harrowing, but I have fabulous coworkers and really adore what I do.My agent, Cristi Marchetti. She's amazing, people, and I am pumped (and relieve, really) to have someone so fun handling my work.My home and dog. I'm blessed and I need to remember this more.Good books! Honestly, what would I do without them? Also, it's summer, which means more time to read outside in the sunshine and get lost in the pages.This guy, who only judges me a little bit when I am super amazingly goofy:
(See, I told you I'd post about you...though you may regret that a bit ;)What are you most grateful for so far in 2016?
