Jacqueline Patricks's Blog - Posts Tagged "jacqueline-patricks"
The New Year...
So what has the new year brought for you so far? Only three days in and I feel a renewed sense of purpose. In addition to writing, I own a handmade jewelery business and last year has been terrible for retail. I've been working on my accounting this week and things were worse than I'd realized. It was a real surprise given that '10 and '11 were very strong. But as I start 2013, I feel confident that America wants to fight the depression that drags at us. We want to find new ways to do business, self-publishing being one of those ways.
It's a brave new world and for those of us willing to keep pushing, who knows what will happen. But the main thing is we can never give up, never give in to the temptation to walk away. Sure it'll be hard, but then anything worthwhile always is.
Here's to a great 2013!
It's a brave new world and for those of us willing to keep pushing, who knows what will happen. But the main thing is we can never give up, never give in to the temptation to walk away. Sure it'll be hard, but then anything worthwhile always is.
Here's to a great 2013!
Happy Birthday, David Bowie! New Music!
The big 66!
Which is, freakishly enough, the same age as my dad. But we're not going there.
Watch his new music video! Woohoo!
http://www.davidbowie.com/the-next-day
Which is, freakishly enough, the same age as my dad. But we're not going there.
Watch his new music video! Woohoo!
http://www.davidbowie.com/the-next-day
Jeffery Archer Short Story Contest
Just wanted to update anyone interested in this contest hosted by Kobo.
http://kobowritinglife.com/2013/01/16...
"One lucky winner will be awarded the grand prize of free enrolment in an upcoming Curtis Brown online novel writing course. Authors should submit a 100-word short. The short can consist of any genre of fiction, as long as it stays within the 100-word limit."
Deadline is Feb 15!
*edited* You know--I copied and pasted the quoted portion from their website and later realized that they spelled enrollment as 'enrolment'. Remember that Kobo is a Canadian company, so they're choosing the different spelling.
http://kobowritinglife.com/2013/01/16...
"One lucky winner will be awarded the grand prize of free enrolment in an upcoming Curtis Brown online novel writing course. Authors should submit a 100-word short. The short can consist of any genre of fiction, as long as it stays within the 100-word limit."
Deadline is Feb 15!
*edited* You know--I copied and pasted the quoted portion from their website and later realized that they spelled enrollment as 'enrolment'. Remember that Kobo is a Canadian company, so they're choosing the different spelling.
What have I been up to?
I'm working on a prequel to my short story 'His Last Gift' - a novella about how Daniel and Katherine started their affair.
My new, professional cover for 'Dreams of the Queen' should be ready in a week or two, so get ready for a new cover reveal!
'Queen's' sequel 'Nightmares of the Queen' is coming along nicely. I'm a few chapters in so far as the story fleshes itself out.
I'm also considering a prequel, short story for Captain Lewis.
Fairytale Apocalypse is humming along very well. The back story is falling into place and Kagan's world is really building up well. The Verge is an amazing place in my mind. I'm happy to get to spend more time there. I've decided to add more political details to the Verge and its fae Inlands, which will become more important later on.
Lots of writing craziness, makes me wish I had more time and less sleep deprivation headaches.
My new, professional cover for 'Dreams of the Queen' should be ready in a week or two, so get ready for a new cover reveal!
'Queen's' sequel 'Nightmares of the Queen' is coming along nicely. I'm a few chapters in so far as the story fleshes itself out.
I'm also considering a prequel, short story for Captain Lewis.
Fairytale Apocalypse is humming along very well. The back story is falling into place and Kagan's world is really building up well. The Verge is an amazing place in my mind. I'm happy to get to spend more time there. I've decided to add more political details to the Verge and its fae Inlands, which will become more important later on.
Lots of writing craziness, makes me wish I had more time and less sleep deprivation headaches.
Sneak Peek from 'Nightmares of the Queen'
He unlocked the door to his apartment.
"Captain Charles Lewis, this board of inquiry has decided…"
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, making sure to relock it.
"…that due to the lack of supporting evidence, the massive loss of life to your unit…"
He ignored the wilted leaves of his philodendron—their edges brown and curling—as he aimed for his kitchen. Specifically the refrigerator.
"…and the loss of the entire team of scientists who were highly regarded in their fields…"
The fridge’s handle was cold and hard against his palm as he stood staring into its bright belly. He’d only have one. He just needed one to take the edge off. Fingers of his right hand tightened on the handle while his left reached forward, shaking.
"…that you will be reassigned to administrative duty and subject to regular evaluations, psychiatric and professional,..."
The icy glass bottle in his hand instantly soothed him, calming his tremors and he hadn’t even opened it.
"…until such time that you have proven that you are capable of assuming another field command."
A pop and a snick and the metal cap flipped off to clatter on the countertop, spinning and twisting. Lewis had swallowed almost half of the beer before the cap could roll to the tile floor. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy the river of cold foam rushing down his throat. He hadn’t enjoyed anything since they’d returned a month ago. Another gulp and swallow while he stared at the wall behind his stove. He’d always hated that beige tile. Boring. Lifeless.
“Fuck!” Lewis threw the mostly empty bottle at the offending ceramic. Brown glass and golden froth exploded, littering the stove, but the tile survived. Stumbling backwards, Lewis’ back hit the far wall of his narrow hall-like kitchen, and he slid to his butt, legs bent in front of him. Being hardly worn, the soles of his dress shoes slipped and his feet splayed out until his legs smacked the floor.
Pressed against the wall, the corded edge of his beret dug painfully into the back of his head. He’d forgotten to remove his cover indoors—just like he’d forgotten at the inquiry.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am unfit for another field command. Lewis balled his hands into fists trying to force the tension from his body. Bitter ale clung to his tongue, distracting him and inciting a craving for more. Eyelids drifting shut, he inhaled deeply and thought about happy places.
Sir?
“No!” Lewis snapped his lids open. Lifeless beige stared back. “You’re not real,” he whispered. He covered his face with both hands. “You’re dead.”
Sir? What happened?
“You’re all dead,” he said, his hands muffling his gruff voice.
This is your fault. Why didn’t you save us?
A short sob escaped Lewis and he bowed his head, face still masked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he said again, softer as his upper body slid sideways, hitting the wood cabinetry with dull thud. Shoulders trembling, Lewis tried to restrain himself as his emotions swirled and buckled.
You owe me, sir.
Lewis stilled, then removed his hands from his face. “Brown?”
I looked out for you when you needed me. You owe me.
“I. I tried, Sam.”
You weren’t good enough.
Nodding, Lewis pulled his legs to his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. If I could’ve stayed…”
Sudden music broke the spell, and Lewis’ head jerked, smacking the wall so hard his vision whited for a second. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, already feeling the tendrils of a fresh migraine spreading. The music shrilled again, and he realized it was coming from the inside breast pocket of his class A uniform.
With a frustrated sigh, Lewis readjusted his position so he could reach his cellphone. When had he taken it off vibrate? Everything after the inquiry this morning was a blur. Reading the display, he considered allowing it to go to voicemail, but it was an old Special Forces buddy. He’d quit the field years ago for a Pentagon desk job, had said it was the best decision he’d ever made. Somehow, Lewis doubted it.
Nightmares of the Queen
"Captain Charles Lewis, this board of inquiry has decided…"
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, making sure to relock it.
"…that due to the lack of supporting evidence, the massive loss of life to your unit…"
He ignored the wilted leaves of his philodendron—their edges brown and curling—as he aimed for his kitchen. Specifically the refrigerator.
"…and the loss of the entire team of scientists who were highly regarded in their fields…"
The fridge’s handle was cold and hard against his palm as he stood staring into its bright belly. He’d only have one. He just needed one to take the edge off. Fingers of his right hand tightened on the handle while his left reached forward, shaking.
"…that you will be reassigned to administrative duty and subject to regular evaluations, psychiatric and professional,..."
The icy glass bottle in his hand instantly soothed him, calming his tremors and he hadn’t even opened it.
"…until such time that you have proven that you are capable of assuming another field command."
A pop and a snick and the metal cap flipped off to clatter on the countertop, spinning and twisting. Lewis had swallowed almost half of the beer before the cap could roll to the tile floor. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy the river of cold foam rushing down his throat. He hadn’t enjoyed anything since they’d returned a month ago. Another gulp and swallow while he stared at the wall behind his stove. He’d always hated that beige tile. Boring. Lifeless.
“Fuck!” Lewis threw the mostly empty bottle at the offending ceramic. Brown glass and golden froth exploded, littering the stove, but the tile survived. Stumbling backwards, Lewis’ back hit the far wall of his narrow hall-like kitchen, and he slid to his butt, legs bent in front of him. Being hardly worn, the soles of his dress shoes slipped and his feet splayed out until his legs smacked the floor.
Pressed against the wall, the corded edge of his beret dug painfully into the back of his head. He’d forgotten to remove his cover indoors—just like he’d forgotten at the inquiry.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am unfit for another field command. Lewis balled his hands into fists trying to force the tension from his body. Bitter ale clung to his tongue, distracting him and inciting a craving for more. Eyelids drifting shut, he inhaled deeply and thought about happy places.
Sir?
“No!” Lewis snapped his lids open. Lifeless beige stared back. “You’re not real,” he whispered. He covered his face with both hands. “You’re dead.”
Sir? What happened?
“You’re all dead,” he said, his hands muffling his gruff voice.
This is your fault. Why didn’t you save us?
A short sob escaped Lewis and he bowed his head, face still masked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he said again, softer as his upper body slid sideways, hitting the wood cabinetry with dull thud. Shoulders trembling, Lewis tried to restrain himself as his emotions swirled and buckled.
You owe me, sir.
Lewis stilled, then removed his hands from his face. “Brown?”
I looked out for you when you needed me. You owe me.
“I. I tried, Sam.”
You weren’t good enough.
Nodding, Lewis pulled his legs to his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. If I could’ve stayed…”
Sudden music broke the spell, and Lewis’ head jerked, smacking the wall so hard his vision whited for a second. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, already feeling the tendrils of a fresh migraine spreading. The music shrilled again, and he realized it was coming from the inside breast pocket of his class A uniform.
With a frustrated sigh, Lewis readjusted his position so he could reach his cellphone. When had he taken it off vibrate? Everything after the inquiry this morning was a blur. Reading the display, he considered allowing it to go to voicemail, but it was an old Special Forces buddy. He’d quit the field years ago for a Pentagon desk job, had said it was the best decision he’d ever made. Somehow, Lewis doubted it.
Nightmares of the Queen
I Met Hugh Howey for Reals Today...
And he is a complete asshole.
That’s right. Not only did he talk about his book, Wool, blabbering on for nearly an hour about how awesome it is, (what did he think this was a book signing? Geez!) he talked about how he’s helped change the atmosphere of publishing by holding out for the contract he wanted. You know, not selling his soul for a measly seven figure contract. Chump change, my friends.
This guy, this self-centered asshat thinks that his art, that his soul is worth more, so he held out until he got the non-compete clause removed. He turned everyone down until Simon and Shuster gave up all of the Ebook rights. Who does Mr. Howey think he is keeping 100% of his Ebook royalties? I mean, he’s just a writer. A writer!!!! With this sort of example writers everywhere will start demanding fair treatment. They’ll start acting like their writing is a business. They’ll expect to be seen as equals!!! What is the publishing world coming to? This can only end badly.
Then he tried reverse psychology on us. ‘Don’t read, I, Zombie,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anyone reading that.’
Oh really? He ‘claimed’ it was based on his PTSD from 911 during his time living in New York. If I had a dime for every author who said that. Sure, go ahead and be a real person. Have real problems and don’t be afraid to relate them to your fans. It’s not like we’ll believe you.
When one fan admitted to having already read it, he even went so far as to question if he was an idiot. My god, man. What is wrong with you? We’re on to you now Mr. Howey. I’m reading it just to spite you, haha!
And to top it all, he refused to sit in the King Henry the VIII chair behind the table set up just for him. Said he wouldn’t be able to see everyone, and then he took a picture of us, the AUDIENCE!! Like we were … special. UGH!
I mean, WTH? Since when do famous people act like… you know. People? Or not care about being nauseatingly rich? Or say things like, ‘I like being independently published because I can get my work to my fans faster and keep my Ebook prices low.’
WHAT????
I have a headache, and not because I skipped dinner to get there early for a front row seat. Definitely not because I’m coming down off my high since meeting an author I’d like to emulate business-wise. Puleeeze! I have a headache because of the saccharine overload.
People this real do not exist anymore, outside of fiction at least. They’re not that sarcastically dry-witted. They’re not that ingratiating or self-deprecating. They’re not that interesting. (scuba diving? boat captain? bookstore employee? OMG.) They’re not that humble. And they’re most definitely not that business savvy.
Therefore, Mr. Hugh Howey has to be an asshole masquerading as a cool dude. Either that or a cyborg programmed to destroy the publishing establishment. Because he’s not real. And that’s a shame because I had a blast at the cyborg’s book signing.
Maybe the next one will be for real.
I’ll dare to hope. :o)
See my pic with Hugh at this link.
http://jacquelinepatricks.com/2013/03...
That’s right. Not only did he talk about his book, Wool, blabbering on for nearly an hour about how awesome it is, (what did he think this was a book signing? Geez!) he talked about how he’s helped change the atmosphere of publishing by holding out for the contract he wanted. You know, not selling his soul for a measly seven figure contract. Chump change, my friends.
This guy, this self-centered asshat thinks that his art, that his soul is worth more, so he held out until he got the non-compete clause removed. He turned everyone down until Simon and Shuster gave up all of the Ebook rights. Who does Mr. Howey think he is keeping 100% of his Ebook royalties? I mean, he’s just a writer. A writer!!!! With this sort of example writers everywhere will start demanding fair treatment. They’ll start acting like their writing is a business. They’ll expect to be seen as equals!!! What is the publishing world coming to? This can only end badly.
Then he tried reverse psychology on us. ‘Don’t read, I, Zombie,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anyone reading that.’
Oh really? He ‘claimed’ it was based on his PTSD from 911 during his time living in New York. If I had a dime for every author who said that. Sure, go ahead and be a real person. Have real problems and don’t be afraid to relate them to your fans. It’s not like we’ll believe you.
When one fan admitted to having already read it, he even went so far as to question if he was an idiot. My god, man. What is wrong with you? We’re on to you now Mr. Howey. I’m reading it just to spite you, haha!
And to top it all, he refused to sit in the King Henry the VIII chair behind the table set up just for him. Said he wouldn’t be able to see everyone, and then he took a picture of us, the AUDIENCE!! Like we were … special. UGH!
I mean, WTH? Since when do famous people act like… you know. People? Or not care about being nauseatingly rich? Or say things like, ‘I like being independently published because I can get my work to my fans faster and keep my Ebook prices low.’
WHAT????
I have a headache, and not because I skipped dinner to get there early for a front row seat. Definitely not because I’m coming down off my high since meeting an author I’d like to emulate business-wise. Puleeeze! I have a headache because of the saccharine overload.
People this real do not exist anymore, outside of fiction at least. They’re not that sarcastically dry-witted. They’re not that ingratiating or self-deprecating. They’re not that interesting. (scuba diving? boat captain? bookstore employee? OMG.) They’re not that humble. And they’re most definitely not that business savvy.
Therefore, Mr. Hugh Howey has to be an asshole masquerading as a cool dude. Either that or a cyborg programmed to destroy the publishing establishment. Because he’s not real. And that’s a shame because I had a blast at the cyborg’s book signing.
Maybe the next one will be for real.
I’ll dare to hope. :o)
See my pic with Hugh at this link.
http://jacquelinepatricks.com/2013/03...
Awarded the Smashed Rat of Approval
SMoP
Thank you, Richard McGowan, at Smashed Rat Press for honoring me with the Official Smashed Rat of Approval! You can click the link to see the exceptional standards I had to meet as an Indie Author in order to earn this very prestigious award! I am now a member of a very, very short list of Indie Authors (currently two) whose writing is okay!
I can’t thank him and my readers enough for this amazing recognition of my writing prowess. I knew, someday, an award would be bestowed upon me. I’m just incredibly grateful the Smashed Rat was the first.
Thank you, thank you all!
*dabs eyes with lacy handkerchief*
Comicpalooza panel with Jacqueline Carey!
I was on the panel, World Building, with Jacqueline Carey yesterday. Afterwards, she gladly signed my first edition of Kushiel's Dart then even graciously accepted a copy of my book, Dreams of the Queen
She's totally cool! The panel was amazing and fun and the audience was great! I've even had several sales today from people who were at the panel and have now come to see me at my booth. Wow!!!!!
She's totally cool! The panel was amazing and fun and the audience was great! I've even had several sales today from people who were at the panel and have now come to see me at my booth. Wow!!!!!
Author brand tagline contest!
So I need a bit of help. I'm trying to come up with an author brand tagline relating to "Passionate Sci-fi, Fantasy and Speculative Fiction" but I'd like objective options from people who've read my work. How did it make YOU feel? I know a bestseller has one like "She'll keep you up all night..." It has to be easy to remember, catchy and relating the first above tagline.
Here's the plan... I'm taking all suggestions and the one that works/I like the best (and gets the thumbs up from my family and best friend--lol quality control is important right?) wins one of the 'Dreams of the Queen' posters from Comicpalooza. I have a few left. They're 2'x3' movie quality vinyl, glossy. They're NICE! Retails for over $30!!!! And the winner gets one for FREE!!!!! INCLUDING SHIPPING ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD!!!!
This goes until June 15 and you can entry multiple times, so keep those ideas coming!
How's that for a contest? Hmmm?
image:
Here's the plan... I'm taking all suggestions and the one that works/I like the best (and gets the thumbs up from my family and best friend--lol quality control is important right?) wins one of the 'Dreams of the Queen' posters from Comicpalooza. I have a few left. They're 2'x3' movie quality vinyl, glossy. They're NICE! Retails for over $30!!!! And the winner gets one for FREE!!!!! INCLUDING SHIPPING ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD!!!!
This goes until June 15 and you can entry multiple times, so keep those ideas coming!
How's that for a contest? Hmmm?
image:
Winners of the Poster/Author Tagline Contest
Okay... so here's the result of the poster/author tagline contest. There were some great entries, but no one entry fit just right. Funny thing is three people wrote taglines with a key word that my family and I agreed really worked and a fourth person wrote a tagline without that key word, but that kept pulling at my inspiration. So I mashed all of them together, let it all marinate, ran it past my family a few times... and voila:
Jacqueline Patricks: Expect the Unexpected!
Which means I have four posters to award to: Mary Roya, Autumn, Veronica Smith and Michaela Trott!
Thanks so much for your entries, and even though I didn't end up using any specific one, your ideas and viewpoints really helped spark my writing since it's difficult for anyone to be truly objective about themselves or their work.
Congratulations! You can either message me with your address or email me at jacquelinepatricks@gmail.com, which ever you prefer, and I'll get it mailed out in the next week.
Jacqueline Patricks: Expect the Unexpected!
Which means I have four posters to award to: Mary Roya, Autumn, Veronica Smith and Michaela Trott!
Thanks so much for your entries, and even though I didn't end up using any specific one, your ideas and viewpoints really helped spark my writing since it's difficult for anyone to be truly objective about themselves or their work.
Congratulations! You can either message me with your address or email me at jacquelinepatricks@gmail.com, which ever you prefer, and I'll get it mailed out in the next week.
