Dot Hutchison's Blog, page 6

Giveaway! The S-Word, by Chelsea Pitcher

I know I haven’t talked much lately about what I’ve been reading, and that’s because I’ve been headfirst down a drafting hole, but one thing I took a break for was my friend and agent-mate Chelsea Pitcher’s about-to-debut book, The S-Word.

And guys, YOU WANT THIS BOOK.

It’s mystery and sorrow and friendship and high school, and it’s very, VERY timely.

Now, Chelsea has graciously sent me a SIGNED Advance Copy, AND SWAG, including some very shiny buttons, for me to share with you, but the book comes out on May 7th, just around the corner, so this giveaway is going to be fast. Entries will be open through Wednesday, Aptil 24th, so I can contact the winner and get the book sent out by Friday.

Entering is super easy- just comment below with a POSITIVE S-Word (like sweet, or smart). That’s all you have to do! Feel free to spread the word (in fact, please spread the word) but all you have to do is comment with a positive s-word, to negate all the negative s-words we throw around at people.

Remember, entries are only open through Wednesday, April 24th.

Until next time~

Cheers!

Announcements! BEA and More!

First things first, let’s announce the winners of the FIRST giveaway for A Wounded Name!

The ARC and swag pack goes to….

*drumroll please*

JAIME H!

And the swag packs go to…

ALYSSA SUSANNA!

and

BRIANA!

Congratulations!

In other exciting news, I’ll be at BEA!

BEA, Book Expo America, is this amazing thing where they herd tons of authors together under one roof for ARC giveaways, signings, panels, and more. Pretty much, if you love books? BEA is a dream come true.

And it’s where I’ll be doing my very first signing!

Thursday, May 30th, from 10-11 am, I’ll be at Table #5 in the Author Autograph Area, signing advanced copies that you can then get for free! Honestly, I’m not even sure I can wrap my brain around the prospect yet. There are a lot of steps in the publishing process, and each one seems to be feel more surreal than the last. It’s hard to believe that in four and a half months, my book is going to be out! And soon–so very, very soon–people will actually be able to start reading the pre-release copies.

Eep!

So if you’re going to BEA, make sure to swing by Table 5 Thursday morning, say hello, and pick up a signed copy!

Until next time~

Cheers!

A (Fifth) Sneak Peek Into A Wounded Name

I have a thing for prime numbers.

Just to let you know, today is the LAST DAY to enter the giveaway for the signed ARC and swag! After this, it’ll be a while before another giveaway goes up, so if you’re not going to BEA (more on that tomorrow), this is going to be your best chance. It’s super easy to enter, and I’ll be drawing a winner tomorrow morning.

And, without further business, here’s the snippet!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Then it’s time. It’s been time so often today, but it’s time again, this time to close the lid and forever place Hamlet in darkness. The priest places a hand on the sectioned lid, then glances at the line of ravens in the front pew and asks if we’d like to pay our respects. The violet waits patiently in my palm, its fan-shaped petals a little wilted but the colors still true.

Claudius goes up first, his face impassive as he studies his elder brother. His face shows nothing, but then, it so rarely does. Claudius is not one to let others know his thoughts or plans if he can avoid it. He doesn’t touch the body, doesn’t even rest his hand on the edge of the casket but, instead, clasps his hands at the small of his back in a vaguely military stance that keeps his spine stiff and straight.

Dignity.

Propriety.

Gertrude joins him there, and one of Claudius’ hands floats away to rest on her back. His fingers curve over the small of her back, his palm against the swell of her hip. It’s an intimate stance. I’ve had much occasion over the past three days to study how people touch each other in support: a grip on the shoulder, the forearm, a hand placed gently against the shoulder blades, all things as though they could help the grief stand on its own. It’s too close for brother and sister, as they have been for nearly two decades, and yet there his hand rests, and she doesn’t step away.

Her blue eyes glisten, and tears tremble on her lashes but do not fall. She touches her husband’s cheek, leans down to press a soft kiss against his cold lips. Her hand shakes.

Dane stands abruptly, yanking me gracelessly to my feet beside him. He stalks up the steps to the altar, jerky as a badly controlled marionette. We pass his mother and uncle on their way back to the pew, and Gertrude’s hand brushes across my cheek in passing. The shiver crawls under my skin. Was it the same hand? From dead flesh to living flesh, could her hand tell the difference?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Until next time~

Cheers!

A (Fourth) Sneak Peek Into A Wounded Name

*imagine trumpets blaring here*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Gertrude comes out to retrieve her son and his dismal company. She watches our silence for a moment, an almost smile a subtle curve on her painted lips. She is too young to be a widow, I think suddenly, too lovely to be left alone. “Dane,” she says softly, “it is time for us to go.”

He slowly stands, allows Horatio and me to adjust his clothing, but he can’t look at his mother, can’t share this grief even with her. He jerks his head in what might be a nod, to acknowledge her presence or her words I’m not sure, and walks past her.

Her smile deepens when I step out of the shadows and she can see me more clearly. “You look lovely, Ophelia.” Her fingers brush gently against one of the violets, too light to a touch to dislodge it. “Hamlet always loved seeing you with flowers in your hair, like you’d stepped right out of a fairy tale.”

I cringe inwardly, grateful that neither Laertes nor Father followed her to the alcove.

“Thank you for doing this, for him. And…” Her voice trembles, the strength crumbling to reveal the grief beneath. Then she clears her throat, and the moment has passed. “And for Dane. This is especially hard for him.” She links my arm through her. “I’m glad he has his friends to help him through this.” We join the others in the entryway.

Father’s eyes show his concern when he sees the flowers in my hair, but no surprise; Laertes must have told him already. Whatever he might say, though, is unknowingly cut off by Gertrude, who again brushes her fingers across the silky petals.

“It does me good to see this,” she murmurs. “Hamlet would have liked to see this.”

Dane’s jaw clenches, as it does whenever he hears his father put into past or conditional tense. Strange, how words can be so precise and yet have so many shades of meaning. Words, words, words, it’s a wonder that they mean anything at all, when so often they don’t.

But that is the last said of the violets in my hair.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A longer chunk for you today! And don’t forget, for a few more days, you can still enter to win a signed advance copy and swag!

Until next time~

Cheers!

A (Third) Sneak Peek Into A Wounded Name

*drumroll please!*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Think of what this will do to Father; you know he doesn’t need more distractions today.”

Father never needs distractions; he exists in a cacophony of them. Distractions from memory, from fear, from the loneliness he doesn’t know how to let us fill. He never needs more of them, but he looks for them anyway because that is what he does in the name of the making everything run smoothly. I don’t say any of this. I never do. Laertes and I understand Father in very different ways, I think, and I never can decide who has the more right of it.

My black wrap sits on the foot of the bed, and I push Laertes away to pick it up. Even in high summer, the church is always cold. It clings to the stone, to the silence. I switch the violet to my left hand and drape the wrap over that arm to hide it from view. This final flower will be a gift, the last one I can give to a dear friend now gone. That sort of gift must always be a private thing. “It’s time,” I remind him. “We should go.”

He shakes his head but holds the door open for me. The absence of a scent–a ghost, an echo of violets–follows us into the hall. This is the day Hamlet Danemark V, Headmaster of Elsinore Academy, is laid to rest, and the world mourns.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

And you can still enter to win an advanced copy, plus signed swag! ARC is US only, but swag is international!

Until next time~

Cheers!

A (Second) Sneak Peek Into A Wounded Name

Ready for round 2? (Note: This was supposed to refer to the second sneak peek, NOT a second book- I am SO SORRY about the confusion)

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Every morning, Jack leaves a small basket of flowers just outside my door, as he’s done for years, as he did for my mother. From the first bloom of early spring to the last bloom of late summer, there are violets. Sometimes other flowers as well but always violets, soft petals ranging from their namesake color through shades of indigo, blue, and heavy cream.

The Headmaster loves violets.

Loved violets.

He laughed and laughed when I told him of their elusive scent, how smelling them actually makes it impossible to smell anything for a little while, and he knotted a flower into my hair and told me the most beautiful things will always be the most elusive. I was nine years old, my first day back after the cold place, and he’d come to welcome me home with flowers that Jack gave me.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

And you can enter here to win a signed Advance Copy and swag!

Until next time~

Cheers!

A Sneak Peek Into A Wounded Name

Guys, guys, you guys! I got permission to share some lines from A Wounded Name!

Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll be sharing bits and pieces from the first few chapters. Want more? I’m also extending the giveaway- you can still enter here, and then you can read ALL of it.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The sky is blue today.

Blue like glacier ice, like hidden springs. Blue like jays’ wings, peacock feathers. Blue like my mother’s skin.

It isn’t right. Today the sky should be black or deep, roiling grey, a vast, mottled purple bruise overhead. The air should weep, the Heavens pound in anguish and loss, for today we bury the King of Elsinore.

But it isn’t. And they don’t.

.

.

.

.

.

Stay tuned for more sneak peeks, and don’t forget to enter to win an advanced copy of A Wounded Name, plus signed swag!

Until next time~

Cheers!

A Wounded Name Giveaway!

After the rather surreal experience of designing and ordering swag, the first wave has arrived, which means: IT’S TIME FOR A GIVEAWAY!!!

There’s one major prize pack, and other small prize packs- the number of them depends on you. (yes, you!)

One lucky person will receive a SIGNED ARC of A Wounded Name, personlized if you’d like, and a pack of signed swag, including stickers, bookmarks, and a bookplate. The other packs are going to be signed swag, but the more people participate, the more swag packs there will be.

And here’s how to enter:

The actual entry: comment below and tell me what book you’re reading right now, OR, if you’re between books, tell me what you just finished and what you think. (I just finished The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson, and it was GORGEOUS, absolutely amazing writing, beautifully flawed and balanced characters, and hope and death walking hand in hand)

Extra entries: you can get +1 for each of the following:

-Add
-follow this blog

-follow me on twitter (@dothutchison)

-tweet about this giveaway

-like me on Facebook

-blog about this giveaway

Any and all of these that you do just let me know in the comments, and if you already do them, again, just let me know. You can get a total of SEVEN entries, and like I said, the more people who enter, the more prizes there are going to be. If we hit over 100 entries, I’ll also add a Barnes and Noble gift card with the ARC. And make sure you leave an email so I can contact you if you win!

The ARC has to be US only (sorry) BUT the swag packs are open to international entries! I’ll pick a winner at the end of the month.

Good luck to everyone!

What I’ve Been Reading 1

At the end of 2012, I mentioned that I was having to do some hard thinking about priorities, and some of that included how I was going to maintain this blog through the new year. Mostly…how I was going to do reviews. A good review takes anywhere from two to five hours to write, depending on the book and how hard it is to talk about, and that’s time I really need to be putting into other things- writing, editing, planning giveaways and swag and such. When I didn’t have any deadlines or expectations other than my own, that was just fine. Now it feels a little more awkward.

Also awkward? The idea of doing detailed reviews of books written by people who are now colleagues of a sort. There’s a transition from blogger to author, and honestly I’m just sort of bumbling along making a mess of it. As a reader, as a writer, I’m always going to read critically, and I’m always going to dissect what I read. I just don’t know that I’m as comfortable sharing all of those thoughts. It’s not an aspect of censorship, more of…circumspection. After all, you don’t stand there and tell your co-workers everything you thought of a job they did, do you?

So what I’m going to do instead is an update from time to time on the things I’ve been reading with my general impression of them. This still lets me share what’s been coming through the stacks, it lets me gush about books I’ve loved, but it keeps me from feeling like I’m trouncing all over sensible boundaries.

.

.

.

First up is Etiquette & Espionage, by Gail Carriger, author of the adult series The Parasol Protectorate. This book is set in the same steampunk-urban fantasy England, but some time earlier, so you needn’t be familiar with the adult series to read this. Tell you what, though, reading this will make you want to be familiar with Carriger’s other works. I LOVED IT. The tone was wry and perfectly pitched, and despite a bit of a slow start, the action picked up with a good pace. The characters are well drawn, the world was intriguing, and it was laugh out loud funny. There was one paragraph describing someone’s moustache that had me in tears. This was, overall, a fantastic start to a new series. I mean, seriously, there’s a mechanical dog named Bumbersnoot. Bumbersnoot is awesome.

.

.

.

The Archived, by Victoria Schwab, and HOLY HELL THIS WAS BOOK WAS AMAZING. THis wasn’t written, this was crafted, every sentence another line in a love song to grief and healing, trapped in that aching span of time when the grief is old enough that it should be better than it is, but too new to be as healed as everyone else thinks it should be. You open the cover and it’s like disappearing into the Narrows, where the time of the outside world has no meaning until you’re done. The action is taut, the emotion at times overwhelming, and through it all weaves this terrible, beautiful thread of hope. The entire nature of the Archive is simultaneously comforting and horrifying, and we see both elements of that. We have incredible characters (and may I just say, I love Roland; Roland makes me happy and sad at the same time) and an intriguing world and the kind of beauty and craft of writing that sinks hooks into your mind and just doesn’t let go. Long after you finish this book, your thoughts are still in the Narrows, only absently noting the marks on the doors that might lead to a way out. They just revealed the cover for the sequel, The Unbound, and gah, this wait is going to kill me.

.

.

.

Perfect Scoundrels was up next, and oh man, I love this series. You have to hand it to Ally Carter- she spent an entire book that focused on Hale’s family, and we still didn’t learn what the Ws stand for. The stakes are higher in this one, because the goal in question isn’t a thing, it’s a person- and to save that person, the crew might have to lose that person. It’s incredibly personal, and even more so than the others it’s about family, the family we’re born into, the family we choose. The names for the various maneuvers and plans are as brilliant as ever (the Basil E. Frankweiler! Genius!) and I love the continued growth we see in the characters. That and the travel. Oh my God, I want to see half the places Kat and Gang get to go to, and the twists are brilliant! You see some of them coming, but there were a couple that were just…wow. Love this series.

.

.

.

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater just made me absolutely breathless. This is another book that’s crafted rather than written, and the beauty, the lyricism, the lure comes through in every word. I love Stiefvater’s writing, but I adore her characters. They’re complicated, intricate, gorgeously drawn, and the connections between them bristle with the full range of emotion and possibility. And the thing about this book is, even though I grew up reading about ley lines and the legends of the sleeping kings, it still made me want to race out and learn more, because the story and the search and the way all the pieces are woven together is just that damn compelling. This is another book you don’t put down until it’s done, and even then it’s not really done, because it just won’t let you go. This is one of those books that makes a part of me shrivel with envy.

.

.

.

Last one for this set, The Cadet of Tildor, by Alex Lidell. This one was…problematic for me. It wasn’t that the book was bad on its own, just that Tamora Pierce did it ten and twenty years ago and did it better. It’s a great world, with a fascinating magic system, a good conflict set up with a new, young king and two very different crime organizations. The pacing is a little awkward but it does carry the story along. I think, where it failed for me, was the characters. There were flashes of brilliance, moments where a character suddenly became intriguing and I finally wanted to know more, but these were without exception followed by an abrupt about face that left me feeling frustrated and kind of wishing most of them would fall off cliffs. Still, there was one character who managed to be consistently wonderful, and if it’s mostly for the sake of the younger Savoy, there’s still a lot of areas to explore- and a lot of ways in which things can improve.

More to come later! So tell me, what are YOU reading right now?

Until next time~

Cheers!

To This Day

This.

This needs no other words.