Victoria Limbert's Blog, page 11
October 19, 2012
Fate (Timeless Trilogy #1) Book Review
Author- Tallulah GraceMy rating- 5 Stars
Synopsis- Is precognition a prescription for happiness or disaster?
The good things in life are coming together for Kristina Collins. She’s found her ideal home, her career is on track for mega success and the man of her dreams has finally come back into her life.
In Fate, the first installment of the Timeless Trilogy, Kris Collins discovers the benefits and risks of having precognitive visions while being stalked by a serial killer. Her friends can’t help her, the FBI can’t save her; she must save herself.
My Review- I am so glad I stumbled upon this little Gem!
Kris is a refreshingly stable character and has great support around her in the way of two friends she has had with her since college, Roni and Cassie. Though Kris has a little quirk, she is a Precognitive, she sees flashes of the future which may, or may not depending on decisions made, happen with days or weeks of her seeing it. I was very glad the writer did not hang on this detail, it was written in to the book as if it were completely normal. It is a natural ability she was born with.
Kris has quite an idealistic life, she lives by the beach, owns a company that, with the help of Roni's herbal inventions, is growing. She is a very beautiful woman and it is this fact that catches the attention of a stalker who we learn much about and is a very bad piece of work. He creeped me out, that was for sure.
The book follows Kris as she tries to deal with knowing she is being watched, recieving creepy phone calls and having quick visions of the future that puts her friends in danger and Nick, the man she fell for in college and is re-untied with a quarter way through the book.
What I liked most about this book was it was not overly dramatic. Kris is mentally and emotionally strong and copes with the situation very well. I also loved the understated romance with Nick, the evil stalker and the supporting characters such as Dylan and Jerry. They all added great personalities to the story and hope we hear more from them throughout the trilogy.
My only problem was the abrupt ending. It had lent it self to a climax that could have been chilling, painful and incredibly suspensful. I felt it ended too soon and I would have liked to have seen more of a struggle there.
I cant wait to read the second book in the series. Great book!
October 13, 2012
Killer Instinct (Jessica Coran #1) Book Review
Author - Robert. W. WalkerMy Rating- 4 Stars
Synopsis- Dr. Jessica Coran, a brilliant and determined FBI medical examiner, was an expert student of the criminal mind who thought she could face anything. That was before Wisconsin. Before she saw one of his victims... The FBI had a special code name for his unusual method of torture: Tort 9, the draining of the victim's blood. The newspapers called him the Vampire-Killer. But his own twisted love letters were signed 'Teach'...and were addressed to the one woman he wanted most of all: His hunter, his prey, Dr. Jessica Coran
My Review- The book kicks off pretty intensely, police searching for a missing girl, who they find tied up by the ankles, completely drained of blood and mutilated badly. The FBI are called in, introducing us to the main players in the book, doctor Jessica Coran and Agent Otto Boutine.
The descriptions were fantastic, the speech realistic and tense and I soon found myself liking the character deveopements throughout the book. Unfortunately I never seemed to connect fully with either Jess or Otto, though I enjoyed their personal romance. I did, however, connect with the killer of this book, a man with many issues, a man with an addiction and a man with a very intelligent mind. I looked forward to his POV and learning how he viewed the world around him, how he planned his murders and every day life. But every villian has his weakness...
The middle of the story was a little slow for me, with huge blocks of description which, honestly, I skipped past to get to the juicy bits then, a little further on the murders came thick and fast and as
the evidence was revealed I was absorbed back in to the book. By then I was gripped until the end...where I reached the part I chose not to give a full 5 stars to Killer Instinct. There was an abrupt end to what could have been fantastic drama/healing period and the death of one of the characters was shocking(though, I guess, intended)and sudden, not giving the reader any time for the loss to sink in. It seemed, though this character had a big part in the book that the death was...overlooked, hurried and it felt a little cold. It didnt feel right, though I think this is my personal opinion and does not take away from the brilliance of the story.
I look forward to reading another of Robert W. Walker's books and have a feeling he has added a stroke of genius to all his works.
September 28, 2012
Promise (Soul Savers series #1) Book Review
Author- Kristie CookSynopsis- Alexis Ames decides to learn who she really is, with or without the help of her mother, who guards their secrets closely. After meeting Tristan Knight and discovering that he's not normal
either, the secrets begin to unravel. Their union brings promise to the future of mankind. But it also incites a dangerous pursuit by the enemy. Because they are a match made in Heaven and in Hell.
My Review - Alexis, over time, wonders if the attack had been real or whether it was a dream or part of her very overactive imagination
and her mum shrugs it off completely. After moving away and starting collage she bumps in to Tristan Knight and from there a romance sparks, but its a romance like no other and many secrets encircle it and threaten to end it.....which of course just CANT happen because they make a fantastic couple!!!
There are so many things that make this book different. Firstly, Tristan's and Alexis' relationship. It is by no means a whirlwind romance where three days later they confess their undying love and they all live happily ever after....no, this takes time to build, weeks and months. The scenes during which they get to know each other kept me rivited! the tiny flares of romance knotted my stomach and then, when they finally kissed???? wow!
Secondly this book created a new species, actually two new species which is very refreshing. It moves away from vampires and werewolves and witches and all those other things that have become
very samey-samey. The author gave these species a culture, a hierarchy, a history and good reasons for why they are at war with one another.
Thirdly...the ending....I cant talk about the ending because you need to READ it! All I can say is its not all daisies and rainbows. This book is full of love, humour, hardships, broken hearts and action and its a MUST read for everyone. Though this book is not for young eyes! There are a few naughty bits that compliment the story very nicely.
I personally cant wait to read the second book and really wish I had discovered this book much early.
Number 2 here I come......
September 9, 2012
Fateless Destinations and Inspirations
I have always liked the idea of setting a story in London. The people who live there come from many walks of life, from many countries and cultures. It opens up the idea of hidden worlds beneath the hustle and bustle of the racy city that are left undiscovered by the blissfully unaware.
I remember visiting London for a weekend and staying with my sister. WOW!! Now I like to stroll, take in the world around me, breathe in the country air where I live (and wish I hadnt a moment later) and take things at a leisurely pace. There is no such hope in London. Everyone has somewhere to be, and they have to be there FAST. It was like stepping in to a completely different world, from slow country living to hectic city life. I had to move fast to keep up with the crowds, and lessen the risk of being jostled around and losing my sister.
Getting lost in archaic Lincoln is fairly impossible. Although I do remember a time when a friend drove me home and it took nearly an hour to find my house, but I had recently moved so I surely can't be blamed for that....right?.
I was terrified at the prospect of getting lost in London, and believe me when I say I am hopeless at surviving in unfamiliar places. I am prepared for a Zombie Apocolypse, yet the thought of losing my way in a big city is one to have nightmares over.
Annette Anderson, my Protagonist in the Twin Soul series, lives in the heart of this fast paced life. Here she can be a 'nobody', lost amongst the many faces, crowds of people and towering buildings. In London she can act almost normal and forget the part of her that is demon. But Annette's story did not begin here. I wanted her to share the same love for country and architecture that I have.
In my second book, Fateless, I have visited Annette's past in her memories, a time before her soul and destiny became entwined with Lilith's. Annette's true home is 1980s York. It is a place I love to visit today, and it is the place Annette's tragic story comes to life.
Annette comes from a rich background with servants and maids. Her father works most of the time and her mother is a lady of leisure often out at prestigious events or visiting her sick sister who is due to leave a hefty inheritance in her name. Though it is not the streets of the upper class Annette walks, her heart guides her to the Shambles (see picture below) every evening where the boy she loves works.
The Shambles is a street of haphazard buildings and maze-like alleyways. It is here Annette experiences overwhelming happiness and horrifying despair. It is here she falls in love and here everything is taken away from her.
Fateless visits these moments and, it is in these moments, we truly learn who Annette Anderson really is.
I remember visiting London for a weekend and staying with my sister. WOW!! Now I like to stroll, take in the world around me, breathe in the country air where I live (and wish I hadnt a moment later) and take things at a leisurely pace. There is no such hope in London. Everyone has somewhere to be, and they have to be there FAST. It was like stepping in to a completely different world, from slow country living to hectic city life. I had to move fast to keep up with the crowds, and lessen the risk of being jostled around and losing my sister.
Getting lost in archaic Lincoln is fairly impossible. Although I do remember a time when a friend drove me home and it took nearly an hour to find my house, but I had recently moved so I surely can't be blamed for that....right?.
I was terrified at the prospect of getting lost in London, and believe me when I say I am hopeless at surviving in unfamiliar places. I am prepared for a Zombie Apocolypse, yet the thought of losing my way in a big city is one to have nightmares over.
Annette Anderson, my Protagonist in the Twin Soul series, lives in the heart of this fast paced life. Here she can be a 'nobody', lost amongst the many faces, crowds of people and towering buildings. In London she can act almost normal and forget the part of her that is demon. But Annette's story did not begin here. I wanted her to share the same love for country and architecture that I have. In my second book, Fateless, I have visited Annette's past in her memories, a time before her soul and destiny became entwined with Lilith's. Annette's true home is 1980s York. It is a place I love to visit today, and it is the place Annette's tragic story comes to life.
Annette comes from a rich background with servants and maids. Her father works most of the time and her mother is a lady of leisure often out at prestigious events or visiting her sick sister who is due to leave a hefty inheritance in her name. Though it is not the streets of the upper class Annette walks, her heart guides her to the Shambles (see picture below) every evening where the boy she loves works.
The Shambles is a street of haphazard buildings and maze-like alleyways. It is here Annette experiences overwhelming happiness and horrifying despair. It is here she falls in love and here everything is taken away from her. Fateless visits these moments and, it is in these moments, we truly learn who Annette Anderson really is.
August 8, 2012
God of the Darklands Excerpt
Below is an excerpt from my up and coming trilogy, The God of the Darklands. The story and the characters have had some dramatic changes over the years. I hope you like this piece from the begining of book one.
Myst stood upon the highest of the four hills overlooking the small town of Dorren. Its crumbling houses of stone were crooked and old, barely protected by the valley it was nestled in. The ferocious winds still caused the lifeless homes to creak and moan; it pressed against the few trees left in Morenna and caught hold of crisp leaves, sending them in a whirling dance of gold and browns. Smoke from the chimneys never had a chance to reach the permanently gloomy sky above.
A terrible storm would hit tonight. She could feel it like a dark shadow looming inside her mind, a tugging force warning persistently. She cringed away from the feeling. There had been many storms, many sleepless nights of howling wind and icy rain battering the windows, but this one felt different. This one felt stronger.
Myst turned her back on the sleepy town and looked out over the barren lands of Morenna, the Human Realm. The horizon was an uncertain combination of sloping valleys, steep hills and sudden drops. Rocks lay scattered from Earthshakes.
Dorren, and the land it inhabited, had once been beautiful. At least that is what they taught in class. She was too young to know. The never ending storms had begun long before her birth or any she knew in town. A thousand years they said. A thousand years of darkness and storms. It was now called simply The Plains.
For more on the GOTDLs books see Ramblings of Dexus link and The God of the Darklands link.
June 30, 2012
Opening Chapter of the 2nd book in Twin Soul Series!
York 1889
The city of York looked dreary in the gloom of evening. Perpetual storm clouds allowed insistent rain to fall to the streets of the Shambles and wash away heaps of human waste and animal blood. Over hanging, wood framed buildings loomed above, turning the streets in to dark, narrow walkways. Roads meandered off in to alleyways and footpaths, tracing through a maze of tall, shabbily built housing and small businesses.
I followed the roads, looking out of place in a clean blue dress and crisp white apron among the many dirty looking children hanging out of windows and playing on the streets. They stared as I passed, not used to one from a wealthy family moving among the poor community. A small child skipped past, uncaring of the stinking sewerage lining the alleyways.
Holding up my skirts, flashing polished buckled shoes, I made my way past the endless butcher shops and hanging meat, swinging this way and that on rusted hooks. If my mother and father knew I was in the Shambles they would kill me. Upper class did not fraternise with working class. But I could not worry about that. I had spotted the reason for being in the lower ends of York.
His eyes were as blue as a summer sky and his skin, only slightly tainted by the mess of the Shambles, was lightly tanned. A lean body, shirtless, showed tight muscle from lifting meat and heavy parcels and black soft curls sat atop an angular face that was transitioning from childhood to manhood. His hands, with their long fingers and large palms, hinted at the promise of becoming much taller and stronger as he aged. Those hands had touched my face gently, had brushed my arms as we walked together beside the Foss River.
Thomas Gregory was the reason I broke the rules of the house, avoided the servants and raced from my home while father attended his weekly business meetings and mother visited her aunt. My little sister was too young to understand why I rushed to dress and escape out the back door and she was much too loyal to tell our parents.
Standing back and clutching a timber post, I leant my head against it to watch the young man. Muscles tightened in his back as he lifted a particularly heavy parcel and placed it on the back of a waiting cart, where it would be delivered to those who could afford to pay others to bring their meat. My mother was not fond of shopping among the ‘common-folk’. Her nose often looked skyward while attending the markets. She would be reduced to tears if she knew I longed to marry one of the‘common-folk’ and not only marry, but to birth children with, to grow old with. Thomas was the only man I saw. At thirteen years old, my life was planned and he was my future.
As if sensing my presence, Thomas glanced up and smiled, wiping sweat from his brow with an old, stained rag. Just feeling his eyes on mine coloured my pale cheeks and I ducked my head shyly. He moved towards me and I froze with wonder. Even after weeks of meeting in secret, I could not believe he was mine, could not believe he was real. There were many girls far prettier than I. Many with long, blonde hair and striking green eyes, girls with slimmer waists and pouting lips, but he saw only me.
Nervously, I pushed dark hair back from my face and fingered the fine material of my dress. It almost hurt to look upon such sculpted perfection. His shoulders, the narrow waist, the tight trousers framing muscled thighs and the black curls that fell over his eyes.
“Annie,” he said softly in a voice slightly accented by Irish. He had come with many other Irish families and lived just outside the wall of York. “I thought we were meeting later?”
I twisted a lock of hair around my index finger. “I couldn’t wait.”
He grinned and touched a thumb to my chin, his finger stroking my throat. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I blushed hotly. “Can I wait? Sunset is not far away.”
“Bill won’t mind. I think he likes you,” he said, referring to the owner of the butcher shop. Bill was a short, heavily muscled man who liked to sharpen his knives while staring disturbingly in to your eyes.
“I hope so,” I grinned. “I would not want to be on the wrong end of that knife.”
Thomas laughed. “Neither would I,
Annie.”
The city of York looked dreary in the gloom of evening. Perpetual storm clouds allowed insistent rain to fall to the streets of the Shambles and wash away heaps of human waste and animal blood. Over hanging, wood framed buildings loomed above, turning the streets in to dark, narrow walkways. Roads meandered off in to alleyways and footpaths, tracing through a maze of tall, shabbily built housing and small businesses.
I followed the roads, looking out of place in a clean blue dress and crisp white apron among the many dirty looking children hanging out of windows and playing on the streets. They stared as I passed, not used to one from a wealthy family moving among the poor community. A small child skipped past, uncaring of the stinking sewerage lining the alleyways.
Holding up my skirts, flashing polished buckled shoes, I made my way past the endless butcher shops and hanging meat, swinging this way and that on rusted hooks. If my mother and father knew I was in the Shambles they would kill me. Upper class did not fraternise with working class. But I could not worry about that. I had spotted the reason for being in the lower ends of York.
His eyes were as blue as a summer sky and his skin, only slightly tainted by the mess of the Shambles, was lightly tanned. A lean body, shirtless, showed tight muscle from lifting meat and heavy parcels and black soft curls sat atop an angular face that was transitioning from childhood to manhood. His hands, with their long fingers and large palms, hinted at the promise of becoming much taller and stronger as he aged. Those hands had touched my face gently, had brushed my arms as we walked together beside the Foss River.
Thomas Gregory was the reason I broke the rules of the house, avoided the servants and raced from my home while father attended his weekly business meetings and mother visited her aunt. My little sister was too young to understand why I rushed to dress and escape out the back door and she was much too loyal to tell our parents.
Standing back and clutching a timber post, I leant my head against it to watch the young man. Muscles tightened in his back as he lifted a particularly heavy parcel and placed it on the back of a waiting cart, where it would be delivered to those who could afford to pay others to bring their meat. My mother was not fond of shopping among the ‘common-folk’. Her nose often looked skyward while attending the markets. She would be reduced to tears if she knew I longed to marry one of the‘common-folk’ and not only marry, but to birth children with, to grow old with. Thomas was the only man I saw. At thirteen years old, my life was planned and he was my future.
As if sensing my presence, Thomas glanced up and smiled, wiping sweat from his brow with an old, stained rag. Just feeling his eyes on mine coloured my pale cheeks and I ducked my head shyly. He moved towards me and I froze with wonder. Even after weeks of meeting in secret, I could not believe he was mine, could not believe he was real. There were many girls far prettier than I. Many with long, blonde hair and striking green eyes, girls with slimmer waists and pouting lips, but he saw only me.
Nervously, I pushed dark hair back from my face and fingered the fine material of my dress. It almost hurt to look upon such sculpted perfection. His shoulders, the narrow waist, the tight trousers framing muscled thighs and the black curls that fell over his eyes.
“Annie,” he said softly in a voice slightly accented by Irish. He had come with many other Irish families and lived just outside the wall of York. “I thought we were meeting later?”
I twisted a lock of hair around my index finger. “I couldn’t wait.”
He grinned and touched a thumb to my chin, his finger stroking my throat. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I blushed hotly. “Can I wait? Sunset is not far away.”
“Bill won’t mind. I think he likes you,” he said, referring to the owner of the butcher shop. Bill was a short, heavily muscled man who liked to sharpen his knives while staring disturbingly in to your eyes.
“I hope so,” I grinned. “I would not want to be on the wrong end of that knife.”
Thomas laughed. “Neither would I,
Annie.”
May 17, 2012
City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare- Review
As amazing as every other book written by Cassandra Clare. It only took me so long to read this book because I was trying to keep track of all the main character POV's but it was fantastic.
I originally read the first 2 books in the Infernal Devices series as I had no idea about the Mortal Intruments until I went on Cass Clare's website. I went straight to my local Waterstones and bought the first four books which I read within 5 days because they we so fantastic. I have fallen in love with the characters and emotionally follow their individual stories. The villains truly are evil and manipulative and intelligent and I would love just an ounce of her talent.
A remarkable story teller who keeps you gripped with every book and leaves you
wanting more as soon as the last page is turned. I truly cannot wait for the next installment as she always leaves it hanging fantastically.
spectactular covers, beautiful and tragic storylines/romance and great characters. a MUST READ for everyone!
I originally read the first 2 books in the Infernal Devices series as I had no idea about the Mortal Intruments until I went on Cass Clare's website. I went straight to my local Waterstones and bought the first four books which I read within 5 days because they we so fantastic. I have fallen in love with the characters and emotionally follow their individual stories. The villains truly are evil and manipulative and intelligent and I would love just an ounce of her talent.
A remarkable story teller who keeps you gripped with every book and leaves you
wanting more as soon as the last page is turned. I truly cannot wait for the next installment as she always leaves it hanging fantastically.
spectactular covers, beautiful and tragic storylines/romance and great characters. a MUST READ for everyone!
May 1, 2012
Elation and Rewarding
I like to help people, its who I am and what my mum made me in to. Its great to help....but why???
For me its to see that look on someones face, the gratitude and appreciation. It's the emotion in their eyes when words fail them. Every time I see it, hear the words, something so profound happens inside me. This huge swell in the pit of my stomach tells me I have done something good, something right, something that has made another happy.
And I am telling you that feeling is addictive, almost addictive as chocolate and I do not say that lightly, but every time I help someone, I want to help more. I encourage the younger members of my family to do kind things, because the world needs it! It is lacking and dying.
Currently my partner and I are entering in to the challenging world of fostering and I know the journey will be rough, I know its going to be hard but the purity of it is that I can help many people at once. One door closed when I found it would be difficult for me to have children naturally, but many doors opened that I would never have seen. Do I believe everyone has a plan in this world? I am not sure. Do I believe things happen for a reason? maybe, but if this is what I was meant to do with my life then I will follow the path and see where it leads.
Have you ever felt this way? What experiences have given you a feeling of elation, that has rewarded you?
For me its to see that look on someones face, the gratitude and appreciation. It's the emotion in their eyes when words fail them. Every time I see it, hear the words, something so profound happens inside me. This huge swell in the pit of my stomach tells me I have done something good, something right, something that has made another happy.
And I am telling you that feeling is addictive, almost addictive as chocolate and I do not say that lightly, but every time I help someone, I want to help more. I encourage the younger members of my family to do kind things, because the world needs it! It is lacking and dying.
Currently my partner and I are entering in to the challenging world of fostering and I know the journey will be rough, I know its going to be hard but the purity of it is that I can help many people at once. One door closed when I found it would be difficult for me to have children naturally, but many doors opened that I would never have seen. Do I believe everyone has a plan in this world? I am not sure. Do I believe things happen for a reason? maybe, but if this is what I was meant to do with my life then I will follow the path and see where it leads.
Have you ever felt this way? What experiences have given you a feeling of elation, that has rewarded you?
April 8, 2012
Reviewer and Author relationships
A couple of days ago I stumbled upon a forum about how it was unprofessional and disturbing for an author to comment on a review, even if it was just to say thank you, or answer a query brought up by the reader.
As I am very to new in the world of publishing, writing and KDP, this came as a surprise. Before self publishing my debut novel, I researched as much as I could, reading through hundreds of forum threads related to the subject of writing, Amazon, self-publishing, the traditional publishing route and much more. It was only by accident I came upon the discussion of authors commenting on reviews.
I got this picture from the thread:
It is not ok for the author to comment upon a reader's review, even if the author is thanking the reader for taking the time to talk about the book in question. It is not ok for an author to respond to a negative review (though I do sympathise with authors I would also agree to this circumstance purely because it brings attention to something that may have been overlooked, especially if there was only one negative comment).
Readers feel invaded if the author responds, as they believe it can disrupt the honesty. They feel watched and are less likely to write their true opinions. It is a reader's domain, a place for other readers to get the chance to find out how others felt about the book and form their own opinions. It seems the only time an author is forgiven for their intrusion is if they are informing the readers of a change in their book or corrected editing issues.
Now, as I said, I am very new to this and every day I gain experience, every day I learn something new and every day I am surprised and fascinated by the things I read, see and hear. So this discussion left an alarming amount of thoughts and opinions whirling around my head.
Firstly, as an avid reader of a huge range of books, I would be pleased if an author, who I admired, took the time to respond to my comments. For example, I idolise Laurell. K. Hamilton and if she ever sent me a message, I think I would sit in shock for several minutes before I could shakily write a reply. Same goes for Cassandra Clare, Karin Slaughter and many other authors who have inspired me. I would also not be offended by an author thanking me for my views
Secondly, I see it from the reviewer's/reader's point of view. It must be incredibly daunting to discover the author is reading everything they write and it must make them think twice about what they are writing when a review should be an honest opinion. I also believe an author should not get involved with negative comments left by a reviewer because I have seen it escalate in to very serious slagging matches that end up giving the author a bad reputation and leave the reviewer somewhat miffed.
Thirdly, I have to feel for the author in both scenarios. To want to say thank you to a lovely review and comment on a negative or insulting review. Before reading the thread, admittedly, I believe I would have been tempted to respond to certain reviews (though not the negative as I tend not to be the type that confront others). For me, saying thank you to a nice review is good manners and being thankful for something should not be looked down on. I believe, however, this is a product of my upbringing. I was taught to say thank you and please and it comes naturally to me.
But I have learned from the discussion, and it seems if a reviewer wants you to personally respond to them, they will send you a message through your website/e-mail addy/Amazon author page/Goodreads etc.
I would love to hear your views, what you think of this topic and your personal experiences. Life is all about learning, after all.
(I will personally delete any offensive material)
As I am very to new in the world of publishing, writing and KDP, this came as a surprise. Before self publishing my debut novel, I researched as much as I could, reading through hundreds of forum threads related to the subject of writing, Amazon, self-publishing, the traditional publishing route and much more. It was only by accident I came upon the discussion of authors commenting on reviews.
I got this picture from the thread:
It is not ok for the author to comment upon a reader's review, even if the author is thanking the reader for taking the time to talk about the book in question. It is not ok for an author to respond to a negative review (though I do sympathise with authors I would also agree to this circumstance purely because it brings attention to something that may have been overlooked, especially if there was only one negative comment).
Readers feel invaded if the author responds, as they believe it can disrupt the honesty. They feel watched and are less likely to write their true opinions. It is a reader's domain, a place for other readers to get the chance to find out how others felt about the book and form their own opinions. It seems the only time an author is forgiven for their intrusion is if they are informing the readers of a change in their book or corrected editing issues.
Now, as I said, I am very new to this and every day I gain experience, every day I learn something new and every day I am surprised and fascinated by the things I read, see and hear. So this discussion left an alarming amount of thoughts and opinions whirling around my head.
Firstly, as an avid reader of a huge range of books, I would be pleased if an author, who I admired, took the time to respond to my comments. For example, I idolise Laurell. K. Hamilton and if she ever sent me a message, I think I would sit in shock for several minutes before I could shakily write a reply. Same goes for Cassandra Clare, Karin Slaughter and many other authors who have inspired me. I would also not be offended by an author thanking me for my views
Secondly, I see it from the reviewer's/reader's point of view. It must be incredibly daunting to discover the author is reading everything they write and it must make them think twice about what they are writing when a review should be an honest opinion. I also believe an author should not get involved with negative comments left by a reviewer because I have seen it escalate in to very serious slagging matches that end up giving the author a bad reputation and leave the reviewer somewhat miffed.
Thirdly, I have to feel for the author in both scenarios. To want to say thank you to a lovely review and comment on a negative or insulting review. Before reading the thread, admittedly, I believe I would have been tempted to respond to certain reviews (though not the negative as I tend not to be the type that confront others). For me, saying thank you to a nice review is good manners and being thankful for something should not be looked down on. I believe, however, this is a product of my upbringing. I was taught to say thank you and please and it comes naturally to me.
But I have learned from the discussion, and it seems if a reviewer wants you to personally respond to them, they will send you a message through your website/e-mail addy/Amazon author page/Goodreads etc.
I would love to hear your views, what you think of this topic and your personal experiences. Life is all about learning, after all.
(I will personally delete any offensive material)
April 2, 2012
Reccurring Nightmare
So for the last several weeks I have been experiencing a set of nightmares, overly vivid and disturbing, which wake me up at the early hours of the night. The nightmares consist of a tactical team searching an old abandoned building in a Post-apocalyptic time, with deadly zombies and me holding a large plastic spoon. Yep, crazy undead things running around, my team are heavily armed with grenades, guns and daggers and I am stood holding a plastic spoon. I don’t mind this however…
In the nightmare my team are protecting a Lab Researcher who must collect blood samples etc (yes my dreams are really this vivid and involved and I often write them down as quick as possible…great writing material) We enter a very blood stained, dark, underground basement of sorts and while the Researcher is taking her samples I am ordered to fight off the crazy Undead dogs that keep trying to attack us. By this time the Researcher and I are somehow alone and cut off from the military team.
Going back to why I dont mind being armed with a big plastic spoon. This weapon, in my nightmare, is crazy-awesome! No matter how many undead dogs I kill this thing never breaks. I stab them in the head, in the heart, even creating a nice little pile and still the spoon refuses to break. I have by now convinced myself all I need in any apocalyptic situation is this freaking spoon!
I always wake when the Researcher asks me to take her further down the steps in to the dark basement. I can not seem to handle the curtain of darkness that begins halfway down the steps and a terrible fear comes over me. The steps are bloodstained and rusty, and I know there is something waiting for me…and at this point I am not sure how my plastic spoon is going to hold up.
All I know is that I am terrified, and this is how I wake up….to darkness.
I have heard dreams and nightmares tell us alot about ourselves and how we are feeling deep down where we do not really want to go. My dreams are a huge part of my writing, and story telling. In fact many of my dreams as a child have gone in to the Twin Soul Novel series. I had a dark mind even as a child! I believe it is a large part of why I wanted to become a writer. I needed a place to put these dreams or I think I would have gone crazy.
So, tell me about your dreams, and how they have influenced you. Have they changed your life? are they the reason you became an artist? do you believe they hold some special message for you?
In the nightmare my team are protecting a Lab Researcher who must collect blood samples etc (yes my dreams are really this vivid and involved and I often write them down as quick as possible…great writing material) We enter a very blood stained, dark, underground basement of sorts and while the Researcher is taking her samples I am ordered to fight off the crazy Undead dogs that keep trying to attack us. By this time the Researcher and I are somehow alone and cut off from the military team.
Going back to why I dont mind being armed with a big plastic spoon. This weapon, in my nightmare, is crazy-awesome! No matter how many undead dogs I kill this thing never breaks. I stab them in the head, in the heart, even creating a nice little pile and still the spoon refuses to break. I have by now convinced myself all I need in any apocalyptic situation is this freaking spoon!
I always wake when the Researcher asks me to take her further down the steps in to the dark basement. I can not seem to handle the curtain of darkness that begins halfway down the steps and a terrible fear comes over me. The steps are bloodstained and rusty, and I know there is something waiting for me…and at this point I am not sure how my plastic spoon is going to hold up.
All I know is that I am terrified, and this is how I wake up….to darkness.
I have heard dreams and nightmares tell us alot about ourselves and how we are feeling deep down where we do not really want to go. My dreams are a huge part of my writing, and story telling. In fact many of my dreams as a child have gone in to the Twin Soul Novel series. I had a dark mind even as a child! I believe it is a large part of why I wanted to become a writer. I needed a place to put these dreams or I think I would have gone crazy.
So, tell me about your dreams, and how they have influenced you. Have they changed your life? are they the reason you became an artist? do you believe they hold some special message for you?
