Mary Newman's Blog, page 5
December 20, 2015
The Headaches of Cover Art
There are times when I yearn for the good old days of a simple solid color book cover with gold or black lettered title. Doing that today, however, is practically screaming "don't buy this book" at the top of your lungs. It just isn't done and readers - especially those of a romance - expect a sexy or sweet cover complete with models.
Covers for my books have become the bane of my existence. Really.
Ordinarily, I use my own photography, generally a landscape, sunrise, moon, etc., and use the convenient build-a-cover that Create Space offers. It's easy and the covers generally come out nice, if not slightly generic, and I don't have to worry about the stock photo model appearing on someone else's cover. I've never wanted to buy stock photos for that reason.
Another reason I don't use models is that my books are fantasy romances. My characters are sometimes not exactly human, and most times are described in such a way I'm just not going to find a model who matches without applying some serious Photo-shopping. Not only do I not have that software any longer, my skills using it are so old I'm afraid they're obsolete.
My only cover that ever used models was done for me by my DIL, Corina Futrell, who lives in New Zealand. She's an excellent photographer and used a couple of friends as models. She Photo-shopped a space background and it turned out great. It's on my book "Love's Slave" and is one of my favorite covers.
This latest book I really thought deserved a professional cover and went looking for an artist. I really like the manga/yaoi-inspired artwork and thought it would be great to have an illustration of my two MCs for this cover. I've not had any luck. Those artists I've found that match the style I want are either beyond my price range or not taking commissions any longer.
I am an artist, too. I paint in acrylic, mostly landscapes. The human form is something that escapes the messages from my brain to my hand. I'd do better drawing stick figures. Add in the fact I no longer have the software on my computer or the scanner to get my artwork onto my computer and painting my own covers is just not going to happen.
So, here I sit, in a quandary about what to do. I love this story. It's one of my better ones and I really hesitate to stick it with a generic cover that doesn't convey anything within the book. I am open to suggestions...
Covers for my books have become the bane of my existence. Really.
Ordinarily, I use my own photography, generally a landscape, sunrise, moon, etc., and use the convenient build-a-cover that Create Space offers. It's easy and the covers generally come out nice, if not slightly generic, and I don't have to worry about the stock photo model appearing on someone else's cover. I've never wanted to buy stock photos for that reason.
Another reason I don't use models is that my books are fantasy romances. My characters are sometimes not exactly human, and most times are described in such a way I'm just not going to find a model who matches without applying some serious Photo-shopping. Not only do I not have that software any longer, my skills using it are so old I'm afraid they're obsolete.
My only cover that ever used models was done for me by my DIL, Corina Futrell, who lives in New Zealand. She's an excellent photographer and used a couple of friends as models. She Photo-shopped a space background and it turned out great. It's on my book "Love's Slave" and is one of my favorite covers.
This latest book I really thought deserved a professional cover and went looking for an artist. I really like the manga/yaoi-inspired artwork and thought it would be great to have an illustration of my two MCs for this cover. I've not had any luck. Those artists I've found that match the style I want are either beyond my price range or not taking commissions any longer.
I am an artist, too. I paint in acrylic, mostly landscapes. The human form is something that escapes the messages from my brain to my hand. I'd do better drawing stick figures. Add in the fact I no longer have the software on my computer or the scanner to get my artwork onto my computer and painting my own covers is just not going to happen.
So, here I sit, in a quandary about what to do. I love this story. It's one of my better ones and I really hesitate to stick it with a generic cover that doesn't convey anything within the book. I am open to suggestions...
December 13, 2015
What a 10k Day Feels Like
When I'm writing I generally can get in anywhere from 2,000 to 5,000 words added to a story. It really depends on how I'm feeling, what's going on around me, is the day sunny or gloomy, etc. Some days it's a lot less or none at all because life happens.
A few days ago I had one of those days where I was so completely involved in the story I just didn't notice anything else. I can't tell you what the weather was like, if I remembered to feed the cat and dog, or if I actually ate a meal, myself. I was in the zone and the words were flowing. It was awesome.
Until I looked at the clock and saw the time. Now, I am basically retired and live alone except for the aforementioned cat and dog. My kids are all grown and my husband passed away three years ago. I live in an old motor home parked in my sister's yard, but we can go days without talking to each other because we're both kind of introverts. The point being, it's normally no big deal if I stay up all night and sleep all day. But, I was scheduled to babysit my granddaughter the next day. Well... the same day actually, considering it was 1:30am.
No problem, I'll just save and shut down the computer, right? Wrong. I hadn't finished the scene I was working on and the words were still coming, so I had to get them out. I think I finally hit "SAVE" for the final time about twenty minutes later. The cat and dog are looking at me like "You gonna feed us today, Mom?" Kiko took the closing of the laptop to mean it was time to rub all over everything in sight - the table the laptop sits on, the water dish that's empty, the little heater I had going (cat hair really stinks when it gets hot) - and Mija thought she should go outside one more time and began bouncing by the door.
Once they were taken care of I realized my stomach was utterly empty and protesting that fact quite loudly. I wasn't going to sleep if I was under the influence of hunger pains, so I fixed a small snack. I made sure I had everything shut down for the night and went to bed.
And stared at the ceiling.
For hours.
It felt like I'd just dozed off when my daughter called at somewhere around 7:30am to inform me she DIDN'T need me to babysit. Oh goody. I can sleep.
Or... stare at the ceiling some more and wish.
And that, my friends, is what a 10k word day feels like to me.
A few days ago I had one of those days where I was so completely involved in the story I just didn't notice anything else. I can't tell you what the weather was like, if I remembered to feed the cat and dog, or if I actually ate a meal, myself. I was in the zone and the words were flowing. It was awesome.
Until I looked at the clock and saw the time. Now, I am basically retired and live alone except for the aforementioned cat and dog. My kids are all grown and my husband passed away three years ago. I live in an old motor home parked in my sister's yard, but we can go days without talking to each other because we're both kind of introverts. The point being, it's normally no big deal if I stay up all night and sleep all day. But, I was scheduled to babysit my granddaughter the next day. Well... the same day actually, considering it was 1:30am.
No problem, I'll just save and shut down the computer, right? Wrong. I hadn't finished the scene I was working on and the words were still coming, so I had to get them out. I think I finally hit "SAVE" for the final time about twenty minutes later. The cat and dog are looking at me like "You gonna feed us today, Mom?" Kiko took the closing of the laptop to mean it was time to rub all over everything in sight - the table the laptop sits on, the water dish that's empty, the little heater I had going (cat hair really stinks when it gets hot) - and Mija thought she should go outside one more time and began bouncing by the door.
Once they were taken care of I realized my stomach was utterly empty and protesting that fact quite loudly. I wasn't going to sleep if I was under the influence of hunger pains, so I fixed a small snack. I made sure I had everything shut down for the night and went to bed.
And stared at the ceiling.
For hours.
It felt like I'd just dozed off when my daughter called at somewhere around 7:30am to inform me she DIDN'T need me to babysit. Oh goody. I can sleep.
Or... stare at the ceiling some more and wish.
And that, my friends, is what a 10k word day feels like to me.
December 5, 2015
The Voices in My Head
I've been looking back at some of my posts on Facebook and realized that were I not a writer, I would definitely be seriously considered for medication. Really. There are voices in my head and they talk to me. I talk to them. We argue. They pout. They stop talking to me. I get mad and stop writing what they say and start listening to other voices in my head.
The upside is when I write down everything the voices in my head are saying, get it all polished, edited, and published with a pretty cover - you guys buy it and it's called a novel. Pretty cool, huh?
Okay, I'm being facetious. But only because I've been struggling for the past month or more with the fourth book in a series and can't seem to get it together to finish. It's well over half way there and it's stalled out big time. My solution was to finally put it aside. Just hit SAVE and file it away in a folder for later and begin something new. I've had several ideas running around in my head wanting their turn in the sun (or on my computer monitor as the case may be) and I'm letting one of them out. I've managed 5k words on my first day, and feeling as if I'm actually being productive. Finally.
I have no idea if this is normal for a writer, but it's my normal. I couldn't force it since everything I wrote seemed to be total crap. Letting the voices in my head out when they're ready seems to be a better fit for my writing style. Someone called it "pantsing" and I'm good with that. If it works, it works.
So the current WIP is coming along and I'm hoping to get it out sometime after the new year. Thinking it's going to be a novella of around 45k or 50k words. It's an M/M fantasy romance because I like HEAs and love writing fantasy. M/M because that's what the voices in my head told me.
Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.
The upside is when I write down everything the voices in my head are saying, get it all polished, edited, and published with a pretty cover - you guys buy it and it's called a novel. Pretty cool, huh?
Okay, I'm being facetious. But only because I've been struggling for the past month or more with the fourth book in a series and can't seem to get it together to finish. It's well over half way there and it's stalled out big time. My solution was to finally put it aside. Just hit SAVE and file it away in a folder for later and begin something new. I've had several ideas running around in my head wanting their turn in the sun (or on my computer monitor as the case may be) and I'm letting one of them out. I've managed 5k words on my first day, and feeling as if I'm actually being productive. Finally.
I have no idea if this is normal for a writer, but it's my normal. I couldn't force it since everything I wrote seemed to be total crap. Letting the voices in my head out when they're ready seems to be a better fit for my writing style. Someone called it "pantsing" and I'm good with that. If it works, it works.
So the current WIP is coming along and I'm hoping to get it out sometime after the new year. Thinking it's going to be a novella of around 45k or 50k words. It's an M/M fantasy romance because I like HEAs and love writing fantasy. M/M because that's what the voices in my head told me.
Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.
November 29, 2015
Feeling the Pain
As most of my family and several of my friends know, I have fibromyalgia and lupus, along with the normal osteoarthritis many people my age start getting. Since it has been a wet, cold fall here in Northeast Oklahoma, I really hurt. I don't talk about this much, at least publicly, because I don't want to be seen as a whiner or someone who is trying to get sympathy. You see, when I was a kid, about the worst insult in the world was to call someone a cry baby or accuse them of being a whine ass. It's stuck with me all these years.
Trying to stay positive while dealing with the resulting pain and fatigue is becoming one of my greatest challenges. Illness is never easy, and long-term, invisible illnesses are even worse. I look fine so unless the pain is so bad I have to walk with my cane, no one has a clue that just standing in a line, sitting for a great length of time, or walking from the car to the store can be challenge.
I try very hard not to put my life on hold during the bad times, but that's not always possible. Last night I slept for twelve hours straight, although I hadn't done anything especially taxing the day before. My body was just exhausted, I guess.
For those of you who don't know, fibromyalgia causes you to feel pain in any part of your body, at any time, for no specific reason. It also causes you to be fatigued after doing simple day to day tasks. Sometimes it feels as if my arms and legs are so heavy I can't even lift them. Lupus, in layman's terms, means my body is fighting itself. Somewhere along the line the good guy antibodies didn't get the message that my body is mine and they fight as if I'm an intruder. Neither has a cure.
In my case, at least, I deal with my illness without the care of a doctor or medications, other than OTC painkillers. Why? Because I can't afford $200 a pop to see the doctor nor can I afford expensive medications that wouldn't cure, only mask or allow me to ignore what is happening. No, I don't have insurance, Obamacare not withstanding. Oklahoma opted out of the Medicaid expansion, and my income is a small VA widow's pension that barely covers living expenses.
My joy in life comes from my writing. I lose myself in my fantasy worlds where love is love, impossible things happen, and traveling out among the stars is as mundane as a trip to the corner market. Good always overcomes evil, my characters get their HEA, and life is filled with love and happiness. Someday, if I publish and sell enough stories, I'd love to walk away from the pension, buy a functioning RV, and travel the country once more. It's my dream, and I hold onto it with both hands as tightly as I can.
Being a writer is cathartic for me. It allows me to write down my challenges, thoughts, ideas, and dreams and turn them loose out among the universe. Sometimes, that means I can let a particular challenge go and other times it just feels good to put it out there so it doesn't feel as if I'm drowning.
This is my life. I don't ask for sympathy or desire someone to come in on their trusty steed and slay my dragon. These are my challenges, and I own them. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh, but all the time I live as positively as I can.
Trying to stay positive while dealing with the resulting pain and fatigue is becoming one of my greatest challenges. Illness is never easy, and long-term, invisible illnesses are even worse. I look fine so unless the pain is so bad I have to walk with my cane, no one has a clue that just standing in a line, sitting for a great length of time, or walking from the car to the store can be challenge.
I try very hard not to put my life on hold during the bad times, but that's not always possible. Last night I slept for twelve hours straight, although I hadn't done anything especially taxing the day before. My body was just exhausted, I guess.
For those of you who don't know, fibromyalgia causes you to feel pain in any part of your body, at any time, for no specific reason. It also causes you to be fatigued after doing simple day to day tasks. Sometimes it feels as if my arms and legs are so heavy I can't even lift them. Lupus, in layman's terms, means my body is fighting itself. Somewhere along the line the good guy antibodies didn't get the message that my body is mine and they fight as if I'm an intruder. Neither has a cure.
In my case, at least, I deal with my illness without the care of a doctor or medications, other than OTC painkillers. Why? Because I can't afford $200 a pop to see the doctor nor can I afford expensive medications that wouldn't cure, only mask or allow me to ignore what is happening. No, I don't have insurance, Obamacare not withstanding. Oklahoma opted out of the Medicaid expansion, and my income is a small VA widow's pension that barely covers living expenses.
My joy in life comes from my writing. I lose myself in my fantasy worlds where love is love, impossible things happen, and traveling out among the stars is as mundane as a trip to the corner market. Good always overcomes evil, my characters get their HEA, and life is filled with love and happiness. Someday, if I publish and sell enough stories, I'd love to walk away from the pension, buy a functioning RV, and travel the country once more. It's my dream, and I hold onto it with both hands as tightly as I can.
Being a writer is cathartic for me. It allows me to write down my challenges, thoughts, ideas, and dreams and turn them loose out among the universe. Sometimes, that means I can let a particular challenge go and other times it just feels good to put it out there so it doesn't feel as if I'm drowning.
This is my life. I don't ask for sympathy or desire someone to come in on their trusty steed and slay my dragon. These are my challenges, and I own them. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh, but all the time I live as positively as I can.
November 22, 2015
Writer's Block
Time to do a blog post and seriously, I got nothing. Lots of issues swimming around out there and I have no desire to write about any of them. I'm all drama-ed out (I know that's not a word, but I write fantasy so I make them up all the time).
My latest story is kicking my butt, so I've been ignoring it. That or I run the risk of deleting the entire book and starting over. That thought sends me wailing to my corner to toss the covers over my head and shut the world out. It's a good thing I didn't sign up for NaNoWriMo or I'd feel a total failure.
Instead of writing, I've been reading. My justification is if I can't be one, at least for now, I can at least support one (or more). My latest finds are Ashley John's Shelter, Andrew Grey's Saving Faithless Creek, Kade Boehme's A Little Complicated, and Mercy Celeste's Out of the Blues. There are more, of course, since I tend to read a lot when my own words won't come, but those were the really good ones.
Now what? I have no idea. The book I'm writing is well past the half way point, and I eventually hope to finish it. Guess I'll take a look at it and see if I can't get a few more words down.
My latest story is kicking my butt, so I've been ignoring it. That or I run the risk of deleting the entire book and starting over. That thought sends me wailing to my corner to toss the covers over my head and shut the world out. It's a good thing I didn't sign up for NaNoWriMo or I'd feel a total failure.
Instead of writing, I've been reading. My justification is if I can't be one, at least for now, I can at least support one (or more). My latest finds are Ashley John's Shelter, Andrew Grey's Saving Faithless Creek, Kade Boehme's A Little Complicated, and Mercy Celeste's Out of the Blues. There are more, of course, since I tend to read a lot when my own words won't come, but those were the really good ones.
Now what? I have no idea. The book I'm writing is well past the half way point, and I eventually hope to finish it. Guess I'll take a look at it and see if I can't get a few more words down.
November 14, 2015
Love Can Conquer Anything
I write fantasy romances set on imaginary worlds where love overcomes. I write of people and worlds who do everything to prevent war, who accept loving who you love as the norm. Why? Because somehow, someway, I hope what I write will influence those who read my stories and it will change my own world into a loving, tolerant, accepting society where religion does not dictate death simply because you don't understand what true love is.
Having come from a Christian background, I do understand how words can be twisted into whatever you want them to say. I understand how caught up in sermon you can be that you'll believe anything that comes out of a religious leader's mouth, even hate. Which is why I, ultimately, walked away from religion completely. My belief system is now based on reverence. Reverence for life in all it's form. I do my best to steer my life onto a positive path, to find the good.
Which is why I hurt so much when I hear of atrocities committed in the name of religion. There is no single religion or faith to blame for the hate that fills our world - they're all a part of it. When a cleric stands before a group of people and preaches intolerance or insists that every person must be brought to their way of thinking, they are as much a contributor to what happened in Paris as those who perpetrated the crime.
If you believe an enlightened being wants you to kill others in his name in order to gain your glory in the afterlife, you are a fool. If you blindly follow such beliefs, then I highly doubt you have seriously read the book upon which your belief system is supposed to be based.
Love doesn't care who you are, how much you have, where you live, what you believe is right or wrong. Love just is. Love accepts. Love gives without expecting anything in return. Love understands. Love is the most powerful emotion there is because it can overcome hate.
Many people around the world stand in solidarity with France. We weep with them; we hurt with them; we grieve with them. And we ask for peace. We ask that hatred be answered with love. What better city to do so than Paris. A city of love.
Yes, I am a romantic. After half a century of living, I still believe that love can conquer anything.
Having come from a Christian background, I do understand how words can be twisted into whatever you want them to say. I understand how caught up in sermon you can be that you'll believe anything that comes out of a religious leader's mouth, even hate. Which is why I, ultimately, walked away from religion completely. My belief system is now based on reverence. Reverence for life in all it's form. I do my best to steer my life onto a positive path, to find the good.
Which is why I hurt so much when I hear of atrocities committed in the name of religion. There is no single religion or faith to blame for the hate that fills our world - they're all a part of it. When a cleric stands before a group of people and preaches intolerance or insists that every person must be brought to their way of thinking, they are as much a contributor to what happened in Paris as those who perpetrated the crime.
If you believe an enlightened being wants you to kill others in his name in order to gain your glory in the afterlife, you are a fool. If you blindly follow such beliefs, then I highly doubt you have seriously read the book upon which your belief system is supposed to be based.
Love doesn't care who you are, how much you have, where you live, what you believe is right or wrong. Love just is. Love accepts. Love gives without expecting anything in return. Love understands. Love is the most powerful emotion there is because it can overcome hate.
Many people around the world stand in solidarity with France. We weep with them; we hurt with them; we grieve with them. And we ask for peace. We ask that hatred be answered with love. What better city to do so than Paris. A city of love.
Yes, I am a romantic. After half a century of living, I still believe that love can conquer anything.
November 8, 2015
Sales and Such
I've decided to run sales and freebies on Amazon for all of my M/F e-book titles throughout November. Right now it's Love's Slave, book two of the Love Trilogy. I posted a schedule on my Facebook page for which books would be on sale and when, but I'll repost it here:
Nov 3 thru 10 - Love's Slave on sale for .99
Nov 10 thru 17 - Love Awakened on sale for .99
Nov. 17 thru 24 - Following Fael on sale for .99
Nov. 26 & 27 - Love's Mistress and Love Unleashed are free
Of course, all of my books are available on Kindle Unlimited, so if you have it, you don't have to wait to read any of my stories.
I am writing again, working on the fourth and final book in The Brethren series, which is Bliss' story. The working title is His Broken Warrior and it's an M/M romance. I'm Hoping for a December/January release date, so I've got my work cut out for me.
What's in store for the future? Well, I'll tell you. I have a semi-fleshed out idea to do a third book in The Hashani series, and maybe a fourth since there are a couple of characters that are asking for their own stories. I also have an idea for a book that may or may not turn into a series. At this point it's just copious notes and scrawls trying to build it into something. If it happens, it will be an entirely new idea, leaving the world of the Love Trilogy, Hashani and Brethren behind. My end of 2015 should be busy.
What else is going on in my life? I'm due to be a grandmother again this month. The newest granddaughter is due this week, but you know how babies are - they have their own schedule regardless of what the doctor says. This will be my thirteenth grandchild, and it's just as exciting and joyful as the first. I've got this grandmother thing down.
This was a convoluted post, but there was news to share and I wanted to share it.
Nov 3 thru 10 - Love's Slave on sale for .99
Nov 10 thru 17 - Love Awakened on sale for .99
Nov. 17 thru 24 - Following Fael on sale for .99
Nov. 26 & 27 - Love's Mistress and Love Unleashed are free
Of course, all of my books are available on Kindle Unlimited, so if you have it, you don't have to wait to read any of my stories.
I am writing again, working on the fourth and final book in The Brethren series, which is Bliss' story. The working title is His Broken Warrior and it's an M/M romance. I'm Hoping for a December/January release date, so I've got my work cut out for me.
What's in store for the future? Well, I'll tell you. I have a semi-fleshed out idea to do a third book in The Hashani series, and maybe a fourth since there are a couple of characters that are asking for their own stories. I also have an idea for a book that may or may not turn into a series. At this point it's just copious notes and scrawls trying to build it into something. If it happens, it will be an entirely new idea, leaving the world of the Love Trilogy, Hashani and Brethren behind. My end of 2015 should be busy.
What else is going on in my life? I'm due to be a grandmother again this month. The newest granddaughter is due this week, but you know how babies are - they have their own schedule regardless of what the doctor says. This will be my thirteenth grandchild, and it's just as exciting and joyful as the first. I've got this grandmother thing down.
This was a convoluted post, but there was news to share and I wanted to share it.
November 1, 2015
Positively Positive
After all the negative of October, I really wanted to start my November off right. I'm not much into setting resolutions and such, but goals? Yeah, I can do goals. As long as they're fluid goals, and I'm allowed to adjust them as times goes by.
My goal for November is to be positive. Pretty simple goal, right? Excuse me while I laugh hysterically.
Okay, I'm good now. *wipes tears from eyes*
Seriously, trying to stay positive is a huge challenge for me. I don't want to get into all the whys and wherefores, but it really is. Things get me down easily, so it takes a bit of effort to keep myself on an upswing. I've got loads of inspirational quotes, positive reinforcement memes, and general BS sayings stored in my head and on my computer to help me do so. Sometimes they work, sometimes all I can do is look at them and think "what moron thought this s*** up?"
But I'm seriously trying to keep the negative at bay this month and focus on all the good things in my life. After all, it is November, the month to look back and be thankful for all you have. So, I made a list:
1. I'm following my dream of being a writer and publishing my stories for the world to read.
2. I have a steady income, regardless of book sales, that keeps food on the table, a roof over my head and bills paid.
3. I have kids and grandkids that I love more than I ever thought possible.
4. I'm developing a network of other writers that are fantastic about giggling with me over something silly and encouraging me to continue living my dream.
5. I'm still breathing and able to walk and get around. This one's a major positive and something I wasn't sure would still be true for me.
That's not all I'm thankful for, but these are what I'm focusing on to stay positive this month. I'm not kidding myself that it will be easy or I won't have days where I say screw it all, but if I can make the majority of the month good, it will be a win.
My goal for November is to be positive. Pretty simple goal, right? Excuse me while I laugh hysterically.
Okay, I'm good now. *wipes tears from eyes*
Seriously, trying to stay positive is a huge challenge for me. I don't want to get into all the whys and wherefores, but it really is. Things get me down easily, so it takes a bit of effort to keep myself on an upswing. I've got loads of inspirational quotes, positive reinforcement memes, and general BS sayings stored in my head and on my computer to help me do so. Sometimes they work, sometimes all I can do is look at them and think "what moron thought this s*** up?"
But I'm seriously trying to keep the negative at bay this month and focus on all the good things in my life. After all, it is November, the month to look back and be thankful for all you have. So, I made a list:
1. I'm following my dream of being a writer and publishing my stories for the world to read.
2. I have a steady income, regardless of book sales, that keeps food on the table, a roof over my head and bills paid.
3. I have kids and grandkids that I love more than I ever thought possible.
4. I'm developing a network of other writers that are fantastic about giggling with me over something silly and encouraging me to continue living my dream.
5. I'm still breathing and able to walk and get around. This one's a major positive and something I wasn't sure would still be true for me.
That's not all I'm thankful for, but these are what I'm focusing on to stay positive this month. I'm not kidding myself that it will be easy or I won't have days where I say screw it all, but if I can make the majority of the month good, it will be a win.
October 25, 2015
The Responsibilities of Being a Writer
Have you ever had that dream where you can see the freight train speeding down the track towards the bridge over the gorge? You know, the one where the bridge is washed out or blown up and no matter how much you scream and wave your arms the train just keeps barreling forward? You can see the tragedy waiting to happen and nothing you can do can stop it.
That’s what I see every time I get on Facebook. I see the train of outrage headed for disaster and feel like there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Writers have a lot of power. We write and the world reads it. We influence moods, lives, news – just about anything – by simply writing about it. How we react with our writing is how the public is going to perceive what happened. We see it every day in the news. Reporters scream disaster and mayhem and we react with outrage and sorrow, or they stay silent and we know nothing about it. That’s a huge responsibility we carry, and we should be aware of it each and every day. It’s actually a part of our trade, writing in such a way that our readers can feel our story.
So, back to the train wreck.
Plagiarism is as old as writing. Someone is always going to claim someone else’s work for their own. How we react to accusations, especially now that we have the internet, is incredibly influential on those around us. We live in the information age. News travels fast and furious. I am witnessing those who have set themselves up as judge, jury and executioner and spreading hate, vitriol and anger with such a broad brush stroke it is encompassing everyone – even those who have no reasonable connection. And it makes me sick to my stomach – I mean physically ill – to open my computer and be bombarded with such negativity.
Plagiarism has happened to me. As a student I would write stories for extra credit in my English class. This was before computers and the internet, so my stories were hand written or typed and I’d turned in the only copies I had. When I requested the stories be returned to me, my teacher informed me they’d been thrown them away. Imagine my shock and hurt when a few years later I saw them published under someone else's name. Of course it was painful. The betrayal sucked. But, I lived through it. I’m still here. The sky did not fall and the world did not come to an end. Had there been an internet at the time, I doubt I would have blasted it for all to see. I’m just not that kind of person. I’m still not going to give you a name or tell you what the stories were about. It’s honestly none of your business.
I’m not going to point fingers, name names, or in any way contribute to this train wreck, either. I am, however, going to beg for it to stop. I’m pleading with those who just have to put in their two cents worth to look at yourselves first. Is this how you want the community to see you? Is this the face we want to present to our readers? Is it really necessary that you jump on the bandwagon and scream from the rooftops how evil and horrid and deserving of punishment someone is? Have you never made a bad decision in your life? Have you never fucked up to the point you practically ruined your own life?
I have. I’ve lived for more than half a century, and I’ve made mistakes I really hope no one remembers. My own glass house is not begging for stones to be thrown at it nor do I want to get caught in the ricochet as I toss them at someone else. Let the authors involved and their lawyers sort this out and live your own life.
That’s what I see every time I get on Facebook. I see the train of outrage headed for disaster and feel like there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Writers have a lot of power. We write and the world reads it. We influence moods, lives, news – just about anything – by simply writing about it. How we react with our writing is how the public is going to perceive what happened. We see it every day in the news. Reporters scream disaster and mayhem and we react with outrage and sorrow, or they stay silent and we know nothing about it. That’s a huge responsibility we carry, and we should be aware of it each and every day. It’s actually a part of our trade, writing in such a way that our readers can feel our story.
So, back to the train wreck.
Plagiarism is as old as writing. Someone is always going to claim someone else’s work for their own. How we react to accusations, especially now that we have the internet, is incredibly influential on those around us. We live in the information age. News travels fast and furious. I am witnessing those who have set themselves up as judge, jury and executioner and spreading hate, vitriol and anger with such a broad brush stroke it is encompassing everyone – even those who have no reasonable connection. And it makes me sick to my stomach – I mean physically ill – to open my computer and be bombarded with such negativity.
Plagiarism has happened to me. As a student I would write stories for extra credit in my English class. This was before computers and the internet, so my stories were hand written or typed and I’d turned in the only copies I had. When I requested the stories be returned to me, my teacher informed me they’d been thrown them away. Imagine my shock and hurt when a few years later I saw them published under someone else's name. Of course it was painful. The betrayal sucked. But, I lived through it. I’m still here. The sky did not fall and the world did not come to an end. Had there been an internet at the time, I doubt I would have blasted it for all to see. I’m just not that kind of person. I’m still not going to give you a name or tell you what the stories were about. It’s honestly none of your business.
I’m not going to point fingers, name names, or in any way contribute to this train wreck, either. I am, however, going to beg for it to stop. I’m pleading with those who just have to put in their two cents worth to look at yourselves first. Is this how you want the community to see you? Is this the face we want to present to our readers? Is it really necessary that you jump on the bandwagon and scream from the rooftops how evil and horrid and deserving of punishment someone is? Have you never made a bad decision in your life? Have you never fucked up to the point you practically ruined your own life?
I have. I’ve lived for more than half a century, and I’ve made mistakes I really hope no one remembers. My own glass house is not begging for stones to be thrown at it nor do I want to get caught in the ricochet as I toss them at someone else. Let the authors involved and their lawyers sort this out and live your own life.
October 20, 2015
Excerpt from A Warrior's Strength
To celebrate the release of the third book in The Brethren series, here's an excerpt from "A Warrior's Strength":
“Take it easy with her, Jastl,” Galon instructed. “She’s got three times the power of a normal space skimmer, is highly maneuverable, and responds with barely a touch.”
“Damn, Galon,” Jastl said with a chuckle. “You talk about it like it’s your lover.”
Galon smirked at him, “Just wait ‘til you fly her. You’ll see.”
Galon touched Shiv on the shoulder and the two disappeared as silently as Mango had earlier. Jastl helped Adal into the skimmer, placed their bag in the small area behind the two seats, and climbed in. He waved a hand in front of him and the virtual controls appeared. He closed the skimmer’s top and engaged the passive restraints before glancing over at Adal. He heard the skimmer power up with a quiet hum
“Wanna see what this baby can do?” he asked.
“Just don’t crash,” Adal replied, cheekily.
Leaving it on manual controls, Jastl lifted straight up until they hovered just above the palace. He pointed it towards the towers in the distance and opened her up. The skimmer shot forward, pressing him back into his seat.
“Whoa!” Jastl said and grinned over at his mate. “Galon wasn’t kidding, was he?”
Adal had an excited grin, as well, letting Jastl know he wasn’t afraid.
“Can you pilot?” Jastl asked.
“Yes,” Adal said, nearly vibrating with eagerness.
“Okay, Angel, show me what you can do.”
“Really?” Adal asked, but took over the controls without waiting for a response.
“Yeah, just don’t crash,” Jastl repeated Adal’s words back to him.
Adal wore an expression of sheer joy, as he skillfully piloted the skimmer towards the towers. Jastl was impressed. His little mate wasn’t just good, he was very good. He’d have to let Mango and Galon know. Once they’d cleared the air space of the city, Adal giggled and performed a couple of maneuvers that had Jastl’s stomach roiling.
“Easy, Adal,” he warned. “I’ve never had air sickness before, but you’re pushing.”
Adal gave him a mischievous grin and increased speed. On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t tell Mango and Galon what his mate was capable of. As they neared the towers, Jastl saw a new cruiser lift into the sky and he whistled in appreciation.
“Follow her out, Adal,” he instructed.
“Wanna play tag?” Bostel’s teasing voice sounded over the com.
Before Jastl could respond, Adal answered.
“Catch me if you can,” he challenged.
All Jastl could do was grip the arms of his seat and pray the passive restraints held, as Adal sped past the cruiser, heading for space. Bostel’s laugh sounded over the com, as well as Galon’s curse. Adal allowed Bostel to almost catch them before he sped off again; repeatedly outdistancing the cruiser.
“Damn it, Bostel!” Galon snapped. “Jastl, what do you think you are doing?”
“Ah, come on, Galon, you’re in a cruiser. Can’t you catch me,” Adal teased.
“Adal? Why are you piloting the skimmer?”
“Jastl said I could,” Adal blissfully tossed Jastl under the skimmer.
Jastl groaned, knowing he was in for it now.
“If I’d known what you were going to do I’d have made Galon take you with him,” he growled. “Give me back the controls.”
“Nope,” Adal laughed. “Watch this.”
Adal pulled the skimmer into a high climb, before flipping it end over end and coming back down behind the cruiser.
“Fuck!” Jastl yelled.
“Not right now, I’m piloting,” Adal said, still laughing.
“Alright, Adal,” Galon’s amused voice came over the com. “Bring her in. Can you see the main cargo bay opening?”
“Yes,” Adal replied.
“Gently, Adal,” Galon instructed. “There’s not a lot of room in there because we’ve laid in some extra supplies.”
Adal deftly piloted the skimmer through the opening and set it down in the allotted space. Once the bay door closed and the tone sounded that it was safe, Jastl reached forward to release the passive restraints and open the top.
“I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered, stumbling out of the skimmer.
He went to his knees on the floor of the bay, before sitting and putting his head down, taking deep, gulping breaths and trying not to disgrace himself.
“Take it easy with her, Jastl,” Galon instructed. “She’s got three times the power of a normal space skimmer, is highly maneuverable, and responds with barely a touch.”
“Damn, Galon,” Jastl said with a chuckle. “You talk about it like it’s your lover.”
Galon smirked at him, “Just wait ‘til you fly her. You’ll see.”
Galon touched Shiv on the shoulder and the two disappeared as silently as Mango had earlier. Jastl helped Adal into the skimmer, placed their bag in the small area behind the two seats, and climbed in. He waved a hand in front of him and the virtual controls appeared. He closed the skimmer’s top and engaged the passive restraints before glancing over at Adal. He heard the skimmer power up with a quiet hum
“Wanna see what this baby can do?” he asked.
“Just don’t crash,” Adal replied, cheekily.
Leaving it on manual controls, Jastl lifted straight up until they hovered just above the palace. He pointed it towards the towers in the distance and opened her up. The skimmer shot forward, pressing him back into his seat.
“Whoa!” Jastl said and grinned over at his mate. “Galon wasn’t kidding, was he?”
Adal had an excited grin, as well, letting Jastl know he wasn’t afraid.
“Can you pilot?” Jastl asked.
“Yes,” Adal said, nearly vibrating with eagerness.
“Okay, Angel, show me what you can do.”
“Really?” Adal asked, but took over the controls without waiting for a response.
“Yeah, just don’t crash,” Jastl repeated Adal’s words back to him.
Adal wore an expression of sheer joy, as he skillfully piloted the skimmer towards the towers. Jastl was impressed. His little mate wasn’t just good, he was very good. He’d have to let Mango and Galon know. Once they’d cleared the air space of the city, Adal giggled and performed a couple of maneuvers that had Jastl’s stomach roiling.
“Easy, Adal,” he warned. “I’ve never had air sickness before, but you’re pushing.”
Adal gave him a mischievous grin and increased speed. On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t tell Mango and Galon what his mate was capable of. As they neared the towers, Jastl saw a new cruiser lift into the sky and he whistled in appreciation.
“Follow her out, Adal,” he instructed.
“Wanna play tag?” Bostel’s teasing voice sounded over the com.
Before Jastl could respond, Adal answered.
“Catch me if you can,” he challenged.
All Jastl could do was grip the arms of his seat and pray the passive restraints held, as Adal sped past the cruiser, heading for space. Bostel’s laugh sounded over the com, as well as Galon’s curse. Adal allowed Bostel to almost catch them before he sped off again; repeatedly outdistancing the cruiser.
“Damn it, Bostel!” Galon snapped. “Jastl, what do you think you are doing?”
“Ah, come on, Galon, you’re in a cruiser. Can’t you catch me,” Adal teased.
“Adal? Why are you piloting the skimmer?”
“Jastl said I could,” Adal blissfully tossed Jastl under the skimmer.
Jastl groaned, knowing he was in for it now.
“If I’d known what you were going to do I’d have made Galon take you with him,” he growled. “Give me back the controls.”
“Nope,” Adal laughed. “Watch this.”
Adal pulled the skimmer into a high climb, before flipping it end over end and coming back down behind the cruiser.
“Fuck!” Jastl yelled.
“Not right now, I’m piloting,” Adal said, still laughing.
“Alright, Adal,” Galon’s amused voice came over the com. “Bring her in. Can you see the main cargo bay opening?”
“Yes,” Adal replied.
“Gently, Adal,” Galon instructed. “There’s not a lot of room in there because we’ve laid in some extra supplies.”
Adal deftly piloted the skimmer through the opening and set it down in the allotted space. Once the bay door closed and the tone sounded that it was safe, Jastl reached forward to release the passive restraints and open the top.
“I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered, stumbling out of the skimmer.
He went to his knees on the floor of the bay, before sitting and putting his head down, taking deep, gulping breaths and trying not to disgrace himself.
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