Susan Simone's Blog, page 4

Ethics in Children's Illustrations

The raising of children is a sacred duty.  If we want a better society, we start with our children and attempt to raise them better, to not accept the societal problems we live under.  Books and art are a great way to incorporate those ideas to children.

JEA very recently opened up a kids imprint, JEApers!  My fellow press artists and I have been in lots of discussions about getting these books good art and what the industry looks like for children’s writers and illustrators.  What burdens do they bring into the market?  Should we be the press that publishes books about gender creative children (pre-adolescent group that defies gender status quo. i.e. boys who wear dresses) because it’s right, and stick our noses up to the inevitable backlash from new ideas?  Or should we stick to the tried and true golden book model?  What do we gain or lose then?  Dr. Seuss was a huge pioneer in his day, incorporating ideas into his books that could potentially have him arrested in his era, but has become a mainstay and standard of children’s literature, in some cases for those very ideas. 

I’m going to go back to an old landmark study from the 1940’s.  Kenneth and Mamie Clark conducted a study in which both black and white children were asked which baby doll they liked better, the black or white one.  A huge majority chose the white doll because they, even the black children, perceived the white doll as being all around better.  Prettier, smarter, nicer.  This study showed how very damaging racism is and the messages we surround our children with.  It took many many years, but that study was a step in normalizing race equality.  The lesson was so well learned in fact, that I run into all white families that purposely buy their children black, American Indian, and even Asian dolls, so they can normalize these cultures for their children early on.

I believe children’s illustrators have a chance to really make a difference here.  I think we need to make a point of including different cultures, races, gender creativeness, faith practices in our drawings.  If the character is never described by the author, why not make the child Asian, or American Indian?  If the room is never described why not put some African tribal art on the walls?  How about sneaking in bits of culture into the nick nacks of a scene?  Maybe Grandma wears a pentacle, or Uncle Dan has picture of the Baha’i house of worship on his desk.  Maybe Mom is in a wheelchair, or uses fake legs to walk. If we want our children to live in a global society we need to make seeing these cultural cues normal.

I’m currently illustrating a children’s book written by my husband, who likes the pen name, Uncle Dave.  You see a sample page above.  I have armies of teddy bears in this book and it was very important to me to include a gender creative bear.  This choice was made after watching the struggle, devotion, and strength of a friend of mine who is raising her children to make their own music in every possible way.  For me, personally, gender creative children are on the rise.  Just like being in the LGBT community or a bi-racial community, they are here to stay.  I support rainbow and blended children everywhere.  And on a more selfish note, when my children come in contact with someone who looks or thinks different, I would be ashamed if their first reaction is fear.  It doesn’t really matter in the end whether you agree or disagree with the differences people are born with or choose.  It’s about teaching children to learn and grow from them all and to sing their own personal music as loud as they can because it brings them joy.

The Importance of Cover Art

8 layer composite, images courtesy Shutterstock. This will seem like a no brainer to most people.  The title pretty much says it all, however I have seen so many really bad covers, or dumb legal mistakes that I just have to rant a bit.  Most of the mistakes are made by regular people who simply haven’t been schooled in cover art etiquette, but when I see a so-called professional make these mistakes I see red.  These people should know better and are basically stealing large amounts of money for shoddy work. 

In the interest of protecting good artists and authors, both in the publishing and the indie world, here are some things you need to keep in mind.

1.        How important are covers?  Very.  Think about your own practices searching for a new book to read.  You go on Amazon, or Barnes and Noble, or your favorite bookstore or library site and scroll through hundreds of books.  Sometimes you narrow the field for genre or author, but in general you spend less than 5 seconds on each cover.  When a cover stands out you look at the title.  If it seems interesting you start looking at synopsis, and then ratings.  Always the cover is the first impression any potential reader has of your book.  Unfortunately for many brilliant writers I know, a book is judged by the cover, and a bad cover will get you nowhere.

2.       Good cover art costs money.  If you are going through a publisher they will likely have an artist on staff to make you a good professional cover.  If you are working with a publisher and they charge you for cover art, they may very well be a scam.  Don’t stick around.  If you are an indie author, you get what you pay for.  Professional covers range from $100 to $500.

3.       A professional will always be able to tell you where the images they used on your cover came from.  To use them we have to download them.  Stock photography is very expensive, which is one reason cover art is so expensive.  If there is a problem with the file, we want our money back, so we always know where it came from.

4.       It is illegal to use someone else’s art without permission, even if you just blow up one small part of it. 

5.       Google images, Yahoo! images, Deviantart, Flicker, are all copyrighted art unless otherwise stated.  ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS, follow the link the search engine provides with the image and find out if it’s useable or not.  Most of the time if you really love an image you can just ask the artist or photographer and they’ll tell you their terms.  Some are nice about it, and some will charge an arm and a leg.

6.       If an image doesn’t say copyrighted on it, it is still copyrighted.  The moment it is put out into the world it is copyrighted.  The artist or photographer has to expressly state the image is free to use or modify.  Creative Commons or Royalty Free are the buzz words you want to look for.  Stock photography buys the license from the artist or photographer and you basically rent it for use, but only have to pay once for each image.

7.       Video game images are absolutely copyrighted.  This means, even if you own a copy of the game, and take a screen shot, the images used in that screen shot are still copyrighted and you cannot use them.  Unless of course you were one of the artists who worked on the images for the development of the video game or can provide a letter stating the owner of the franchise is allowing you to use the image.

8.       You might be thinking, “But it’s just a really small background image, no one will see it.”  Wrong.  Twice in my professional life I’ve had to replace covers done by “professional” artists that used copyrighted images.  In both cases it was an intern that caught it and sent us into deeper investigation.  You don’t want to see the files I have these artists.  It would make a grown up cry.

9.       “But the artist is the one that gets in trouble, right?”  Wrong again.  A lawyer will go after who they perceive to have the most money.  That goes, publisher (which is why publishers are such sticklers for using their own artists), author, and then artist.  If you are an indie author there is no publisher to buffer and protect you.  You signed a contract for this cover art when you bought it.  Some judges will agree that makes you responsible for putting it out, not the artist.

10.   PROTECT YOURSELF!  Pick apart the images sent to you by the artist.  Look for possible copyrighted images.  Ask where they got the images.  If they name a stock photography site, go look for the image in their files.  Look over the contract for wording that absolves the artist of fault for using copyrighted images.  If you get screwed on a cover and have to put out more money to a new artist to fix it, demand your money back and don’t be afraid to consult a lawyer if they refuse.  Many lawyers will not advise action unless the copyright owner tried to sue you, but it always helps to know your options.

I have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to these mistakes.  First time an outside artist gets caught making them I will never accept their work ever again, which can hurt a lot more in the long run than most of them realize.  This business is built on reputation, integrity, and word of mouth.  We are a traditional press.  JEA has its own in house artists, people trained and/or managed by me.  However, we allow authors to use an outside artist at their own expense if they choose.  If I have to tell them I can’t accept a cover by So and So, that artist’s reputation has been ruined.  Presses talk.  Author’s talk.

This is not a PSA for traditional publishing or my own freelance cover work.  I know some amazing indie authors and some phenomenal, honest cover artists who charge fair rates for their work. Ask me and I will sing their praises.  I am in awe of Paramita Bhattacharjee.  I am forever inspired by the horrific visions of Peter Fussey.  Good artists are out there; don’t settle for some random dude who plays around with drawing programs.  Your work is your child.  It deserves to shine.  Don’t let a bad or illegal cover kill it.  Don’t let individuals who have no business charging for their work sell you a product that could land you in litigation, even if it is a beautiful cover made by your best friend.  It’s not worth it.

Morning Song Is Here! Saturday Feb. 8th 2014!

Finally!  After all the starts and stops on this project, Morning Song, is a available for the first time on Saturday February 8th 2014 on Amazon!


I'm really excited about this project.  It blends a lot of unique elements, and some of my strongest characters to date, into a great story.  This is one of those rare stories that write themselves.  It was as if Morna and Arrick really lived they were just narrating their tale to me.


Morna is, obviously from the cover, a large woman.  There is an iniquity in our media that allows people to believe only one type of beauty is acceptable.  In Morning Song, the BBW heroine, is not just lovely for herself, but with a shining soul and strength that spills over into all she does. She is kind and intelligent and graceful.  Arrick loves her not just for her body, though he really enjoys that, but for her mind and heart.  If all she was, was a body, he'd have no interest.


The title, Morning Song, is really important to this book.  Morna, in addition to many other things, is a singer.  She sings what is in her soul, not just the melodies she's been taught.  Melodies, as I have it, that belong to today's airwaves.  This is a post apocalyptic distant future, and the question I pose with this book, is what songs will pass the test of time and be passed down from generation to generation until they are known as folk music?


Due to legalities I didn't use any actual song lyrics, but I did reference the songs that were important to the scene and I encourage everyone to look up these songs, and hear them, and understand why I chose that piece for that part of the book.


Additionally, like many of my works, I deal with the ills of rape culture and just how it warps a desperate, small community.


Morna is very personal to me.  She is the closest one of my characters to me.  I think most writer's characters are a mix of themselves and the people around them.  There are pieces of me in all of my writing.  However, Morna has the largest one of those pieces.  It was so close in personality and belief systems that I almost didn't publish.  Her adventures in life are different from mine.  Her joys and fears are drastically changed by the culture she lives in, but her core is still very much me.  There are some surface similarities.  I am BBW, I am a singer in my heart and soul, I aspire to be a midwife, I am an Asatru Volva (viking shaman), and I believe in magick.  I'm not so sure those surface bits and pieces are as important, but maybe they are a reflection of my soul after all.   All my worlds are gut wrenching at times when I pull out details of my own hard times or an honest emotional response, but in more ways than I can count, Morna is me.

To Prep or Not To Prep? Are Preppers Nuts?

The answers in my house are Yes, and No, respectively.  There is a lot of debate on the value of disaster prepping and the sanity of those that actively do this.  I saw a video on UpWorthy that put away the whole debate for me.  You see the little graphic I put up?  This is a punnett square.  It’s usually used when talking about genetics and what different type of genetic mixes you can get when combining different sets of genes.  Basically this is how they tell how likely it is your kid will have blue eyes.

However here it is used differently.  The one I saw on UpWorthy was talking about the cost of protecting the environment.  I found this translated over to a lot of things, disaster prepping being one of them.  You have four possible outcomes here.  
1)       You do prep and the world as you know it ends in some horrifying manner.

2)      You do prep, but life is good your entire life and you didn’t really need to do it.

3)      You don’t prep and the world as you know it ends in some horrifying manner.

4)      You don’t prep, but life is good your entire life and you didn’t really need to do it.

Well if option 1 happens, you can save a lot of life, a lot of pain, and a lot of hardship by storing up those nuts and getting ready.  If option 2 happens, you’re out a little bit of money, but hey your loved ones can donate all that stuff to the homeless.  If option 3 happens…this is bad.  This is really bad.  You might die.  Your family might die.  There is potential for a lot of suffering here.  Just look at Hurricane Katrina, or the earth quake in Chile or many other natural disasters.  If you didn’t prep, how would your family have gotten through that?  Scary, huh?  Then you have option 4.  Life is good, always has been.  Always will be. 

The worst case scenario of prepping is you’re out very small amounts of money here and there you could have used to go out to dinner or take a road trip.  The worst case scenario of not prepping is pretty huge and life threatening.  The benefits and risks of prepping far outweigh the benefits and risks of not prepping.  I have children.  I can’t risk them.

Now you understand why I jumped on the prep bandwagon and count myself lucky to have done so.  However it doesn’t have to take over your life or change how you live.  It’s like putting money in a savings account for retirement or stocking up on candles and flashlights in case of power outage.  There are a lot of small, easy to afford things you can do to prep.

The number one things professional preppers advise are Bug Out Bags (BOB).  This is a bag for each member of the family you can grab at a moment’s notice, in a fire, a natural disaster, or other unforeseen emergency.  You’re not going to have all these items today, but I bet you have a lot.  You can start a little at a time with the more important stuff.  Just say each month you’re going to buy or collect one thing for the bags…This month it’s personal water filters or extra socks (Socks are very important!  Socks get wet and dirty and cause infections if left unclean too long.  Extra socks are a godsend, and kids can wear grown up socks, so just get cheap ones and stock up).

Most of us have half a brain and will think of the basics, but here’s a list of what the pro’s recommend.  Some of it may surprise you.
·         Flash lights/batteries

·         Radio

·         Knife

·         Matches/Lighter/flint/some source of fire

·         Spare clothing…Make sure you have clothing for work.  If you have a fire and the rest of the world didn’t end you’ll still be going to work or school.  SOCKS!

·         Toilet paper…if you take out the cardboard roll and store in a plastic bag you can save space
Plastic Bags….One tip is to actually store your clothes and paper products in plastic bags to keep them dry

·         Flash drive.  Scan important documents, medical information etc. and store them on the flash drive and keep in BOB.  Make sure you password protect it.

·         Duplicate identifications

·         Prescriptions.  Plan for 3 months….many people who are medication dependant either cannot afford to set medication aside or insurance only gives you exactly what you need for the month.  In my house we put aside 2 doses a month.  It builds very slowly, but most of us can skip 2 doses in 30 days without ill effects.  ALWAYS ASK YOUR DOCTOR.  You do NOT want expired medication.  This is a good letter to start the discussion.  

·         Feminine hygiene items, extra glasses, soap…this is a great place to get cheap spare glasses.

·         Diapers and wipes…baby wipes make great emergency wash rags

·         A map and compass or GPS

·         Duct Tape

·         Rope/paracord

·         Manual can opener

·         Sewing Kit

·         Whistle

·         Emergency blanket …you can get these in most hunting/camping supply stores already folded up in a neat little baggie.

·         Bandanas…not just for your head, they have lots of uses

·         Bug replant

·         Sunscreen

·         Paper and pens

·         Checklist and phone numbers of what to do and who to call when the world crashes down

·         High energy food bars or snacks

·         3 Gallons of water per person or my personal recommendation a Sawyer Mini Water Filter. They’re about $20, filter 100,000 gallons of water each, and are lightweight.

·         Standard First Aid supplies

I know that’s a long list, but a lot of these are things we already have around the house.   If you have kids update their BOB’s at least twice a year.  They keep growing!  Split your food stores up between bags so if you can only grab one you still have something.

Food is another thing that is surprisingly easy to stock up on and prepare.  We spend $20 a month for 2 weeks worth of emergency food.  Rice is cheap, easy to cook and filling.  Throw in some lentils and split peas and you’re nutritionally sound.  Add some dried beans, nuts, jerky, dried fruits and vegetables and you’ll be able to go a long time.

In a big bowl I combine 5 parts rice, 1 part lentils and 1 part split peas and mix them up.  These have roughly the same cooking time.  1 cup of that mixture will feed 2 people very well, 3 people pretty well, and 4 people moderately well for one meal.  I put one cup in a baggie and throw in a bouillon cube.  This is not only for flavor but also iodized salt.  I know it’s hip to go sea salt right now, but our bodies NEED iodine.  We can go the sea salt route for the most part because of all the other iodized salt or fish that has made its way into processed and restaurant foods.  If all you are able to eat for a time is this rice mixture you’re going to need iodized salt.

I package the beans separately because we need less of them and they have to be soaked overnight and then cooked for 2 to 3 hours.  I put about ¾ cup of beans in a baggie.  I invested in a dehydrator years ago and it has served me well.  I take out two pieces of steak and two pieces of chicken each month to make jerky.  We eat half and store half.  I found If I store it with rice, the rice absorbs all the moisture.  Kind of like if you drop your phone in water you put it in a bag of rice.  I dry half of all the produce we get and again store it with rice.  I label and date everything and check it once a month for damage or decay.  Each month my family saves 2 week’s worth of food this way spending less than $20.  Times are tough for everyone right now and we have before had to tap into our supplies to make dinner, which is another benefit of prepping.  In a short period of time we have built up stores that will get us through most disasters.

Copy Canning is another easy can cheap idea.  Every time you buy a can of food, buy an extra one.  One you eat, one you set aside.  This can show you the items you eat the most and very cheaply build up your stocks.  Store what you eat, eat what you store.  Canned goods are great and if you are in a place where you can hold down the fort in most situations they are a great way to go, but they are heavy and bulky and hard to transport.  Our home?  We need to be able to leave and travel.

Prepping does not require you become a gun toting militia wannabe survivalist.  It just requires a little forethought, a very little bit of money here and there, and a little bit of time.

Thanks to a couple friends from Zombie Squad for helping me with this information.  A great organization that is committed to serving the public and teaching disaster preparedness.

The 'R' Word

I wrote this to help people so it is cross posted to both my blogs.

I’ve debated about writing this blog.  I’m not sure at all that this is stuff I want to share with the world, but the thoughts about it are running loose in my head bouncing around the edges of my skull like grown up bounce house.  I had to write it out, if only to save my sanity.  If you’re reading this that means I found a home for it.  This is raw and personal and posting this is by far one of the hardest things I have ever done.

Here goes.

Rape.

Boy that’s a heavy word once it’s out there.  I’ve always hated the word as if something of the ugliness of its meaning somehow rubbed off on me long before I had firsthand experience.  It’s a harsh, short word that at the same time being apt loses its veracity by its very simplicity.  Shouldn’t it be some long, complicated, hard to pronounce word?  Something that can never fully be pronounced correctly so that we end up using initials in common every day conversations?  Well that’s silly too, isn’t it?  This isn’t something that comes up in every day conversations.  I’m on the fence as to whether it should or it shouldn’t be talked about.  On the one hand this is something no one should ever have to suffer in silence.  They should be able to scream about it if they want showing their anger to the world.  On the other hand it is something no one can truly understand until they’ve been through it leaving all those shouts of anger as meaningless to society’s ears as this simple, harsh, little, four letter word that stands for an act so horrendous it destroys your world.

I’m avoiding.  Can you tell?  It’s easier to talk about etymology than to explore the definition and what it means to me.

I haven’t really hid this part of me.  Those who know me best know it happened.  You have only to read the details in my books to get a really good clue.  However, I don’t talk about details.  I’m one of those that never had the guts to report it because I knew what I would have to go through.  I’m the one that wanted to hide and make it all go away, thinking if no one knew, it didn’t really happen.  I thought I knew myself well enough to handle it.  I didn’t.  I didn’t handle it either.  I have grown and healed some since and learned to live, but every once in awhile it rears its ugly head.  That’s the reality.  This is something that once it happens, you don’t get over.  Ever.  Tired of listening to someone go on and on about what they went through?  Guess what.  They’re tired of living with it.

I’ve experienced rape twice in my life.  Once by a woman; my first “gay experience” that sent me screaming back into the closet for many years.  The second time was my daughter’s father who was so oblivious to his actions to this day I’m not sure he realized what he did.  In both cases these were people that were supposed to love me, cherish me, but instead they took my trust and ground it beneath their feet.  There is no imagery that accurately captures what they did to me.

During the actual attacks you’re more in shock than anything else.  We’ve been taught this is bad.  Every woman and man knows not to let themselves be in this situation.  I kept asking myself what did I do wrong?  Where could I have made a different decision?  What clues should I have been looking for?  What parts of this are my fault?  I must have done something wrong for me to have been in this situation in the first place, right?

I can already hear the screams and murmurs right now telling me it wasn’t my fault and not to beat myself up all the while thinking the same things I was thinking.  Admit it, some of you want details so you can find some formula that would have somehow made these things avoidable.  No one has the guts to say that, so instead you hold to the repeated confirmations that I was the innocent victim.

Stop. 

It doesn’t matter how many times you remind me, with sincerity or not, I will always wonder if I could have changed it.  Always.  My mind know it wasn’t my fault despite us both running through the details over and over again.  My mind knows there was nothing I could have done in either case.  The rest of me will always wonder.

This is a senseless act.  There is no understanding senseless acts.  They are by nature illogical, an enigma.

I will not describe in detail my mind going somewhere else, or the terror.  I won’t describe how exactly I was held down or what I was forced to endure.  We all know the definition of rape.  I don’t need to relive it for you to understand.

I will tell you; however, that TV has it wrong.  There are no tasteful cutaways.  There is no music in the background or sound effects to tell you danger is coming.  There is only that moment and whether you scream and fight or just try to make it end as fast as possible, the world goes on outside your space as if nothing was ever wrong.  There is no one to come and save the day just in time.  The sun still rises and sets on your bruises both inside and out, and the clocks keep ticking as you fight for your life.

There’s another point.  Whether your attacker intended to kill you or not, it is always a fight for your life, because your life as you knew it gone forever…but you don’t know that yet.  You think please God just make it stop!  Then it does.   And then…you’re nothing.  Just a piece of discarded garbage on the floor or bed or wherever you happen to be.

Your mind isn’t reeling at first.  At first you realize you’re alive and you’re not sure if you want to be.  Then the lists start.  What the hell just happened? Who to tell, do you need help, are you ready to let people know?  If you have the strength to tell right away before you start really thinking and you’re just going through the motions of what society has told you to do in such an event, then things start happening without you and you’re forced into the process regardless of what you want.  If you don’t act right away, each minute slips away and you do what I did.  Hide it all deep inside and pretend it never happened.

Bruises fade, injuries heal.  If you avoid people long enough no one will look at you and know. 

You know.  The person you were is gone.  You look in the mirror and it’s someone else looking back at you as if you don’t recognize your own face.  That never goes away.  The person I was before is not who looks out at me from the mirror now.  I’ve grown to like the person I am now, but at first I hated her.  It was her fault.  I would never have let that happen.  She did it.  This other me that had my eyes and fake smile.

I would walk down the street and I knew people, friends and family included, would see the old me with maybe a few more stress lines around the eyes or a smile that didn’t quite go as wide as it used to, but I knew deep down they were seeing her.  This new person I had become and I hated her.  I wanted to hide.  I did for a long time.

Time heals all wounds right?  If I hid long enough I’d heal and be able to come back whole.

Whole.

Now that’s a joke.  There is this hole in me.  Two in fact.  Those holes were beat into me by my attackers.  They were the pieces of me that made me, me, and they stole them.  Obliterated them.  There is no stealing them back and replacing them.  They’re gone.  And now there’s a new form to me.  I’m still made up of all the shapes and lines of my experiences and memories, hopes and joys, but it’s not in the same figure as it was before.  It skews everything about me.  My likes change.  My hopes and fears shift position, my very soul and being morphs to accommodate this new form.  It’s confusing and frightening, but it will happen whether I want it to or not, whether my loved ones want it to or not.

It took me many years to accept this new form as me, to love the face that looked back at me from the mirror.  I can now take my shape and face and let it forge a stronger me, but I am not who I was before.

Those with loved ones that have been through such things are hoping beyond hope that their precious girl or boy will come back to them once they’re healed.  They won’t.  Who they were is gone forever.  You truly want to help?  Love the new them unconditionally even when they are unable to accept who they are now.

Rape is not non-consensual sex that involves forcible penetration.  Rape is murder of the soul, of self.  It is more damaging to loved ones than death.  It is more significant than this tiny, little, harsh, four letter word.

Date rape is in some ways the worst of all.  When you’re injured the world is forced to acknowledge that something life changing just happened and you can grieve while your scars heal and fade giving you time to accept the new you.  When there’s not a mark, when you’re like me and hide the marks, you’re forced to pretend you are the same person you were the day before.  Nothing has changed.  No one grieves the old you because they don’t know it’s gone.  You suffer in silence.

I suffered in silence.

I still suffer in silence.

It was my own fault I never talked about it much.  Now, years later, settled comfortably into my new form, things happen, semi-horrid things are said by unassuming people, and I’m forced to deal.  I’m forced to look at the holes, the edges worn smooth by ignoring, and remember what once was there.  Now I have to grieve all over again.  I have to mourn the death of someone I once loved.  She is gone and I remain, and no one knows it but me…and now you, whoever you are reading this, if you haven’t been so horrified by my revelations that you stopped reading.

There is no conclusion to this.  As long as we treat Rape like an ugly, four letter word, and not the complete death of a soul, more people, men, women, children, will have to suffer in silence alongside me.

Rape culture sucks, but if these were bloody deaths out for the world to see would we even debate that it needs to change?


If you need help or you want to help a survivor go to RAINN.org

2 Preditors and Editors Awards!

I'm up for *2* awards.  Can you believe that?  I'm still kind of in shock.  


I'm up for the Artwork on Fish To Die For seen at the left.  This composite is made up of 10 layers, 3 different fish and 4 human body parts, to capture the imagination of the author.


Keith Milstead is up for his own P&E in Short Story Horror for this book.


Go here to Vote for artwork:  http://critters.org/predpoll/artwork.shtml My Debut novel, Silent Heart, is up for a P&E in the Science Fiction/Fantasy category.


Silent Heart is the tale of a deaf woman who stumbled headlong into the murder of a royal.  As the only witness to a horrible crime she must make it across the country to seat of the King and tell him of his son's death.  A stranger stumbles into her path and realizing what she has seen and what she must do swears to protect her.  Through battles, night time cliff climbing, abductions, torture, and houses under siege a love like no other blossoms and changes them both forever.


Go here to vote for Silent Heart:   http://critters.org/predpoll/novelsf.shtml

CONTESTS TIME! Get a Free copy of Morning Song!

It's coming soon folks!  It really is!  Morning Song was put in for final edits last night and with luck it should only be a couple more weeks.  But that's not why you're reading this blog...you wan to win the free copy!  

It's simple.

Here are the rules: Whenever I post a quote from Morning Song,for every 5 shares I will post a new quote from the book. Every new like to my facebook page and I will put you and who referred you in for a drawing to receive a free Kindle copy once it's out! Just write on my wall and tell me whose wall you saw the share on or who invited you to the page. Contest runs from today through Thanks giving! (Nov. 28th) Spread the word! First quote has already been posted!

visit my Facebook page at:  https://www.facebook.com/SusanSimoneFanPage?ref=hl

Coming Soon...Morning Song!

Coming Soon from J. Ellington Ashton Press!  My new novel, Morning Song. 

It was the night of the seed moon when Arrick was brought to Morna’s door bruised and bleeding.

Living in a post apocalyptic, brutal reality, Morna has long grown used to putting her concerns aside in favor of those in need. Her past is something she'd rather forget and her future seems as if it will never be more than she's come to know, but something is coming that will change everything. In the middle of the night an injured stranger is brought to her door. He is more than he appears and soon has Morna spellbound.  For the first time in her life a man has fallen in love with not only her voluptuous form, but her heart, mind, and strength that shines out like a beacon in their cold world.  No matter the dangers that will unfold, Arrick plans to give Morna the life she deserves.

Morning Song will be available soon.  Keep your eyes open for updates!

Memoirs of the Tantrum Days (Yes this is about parenting and tantrums)

I’m going to start this blog with a plea to the readers.  Please remember when raising your children, you are not looking to create a well behaved child; you are looking to create a well rounded adult the rest of us can live with.  How many people did I just piss off?  I hope a lot.  That will keep you reading, and now I have the chance to explain why.

The childhood condition is a temporary one.  In the average lifespan of 80 to 90 years, the time a person spends as a child is less than 15% of their total life.  I’m not a math person, so that’s as close to a solid number you’re going to get from me, but let that sink in.  15% of a lifetime is spent learning how to be a person.  This doesn’t count the teen years, where you are mostly an adult just learning how to make good decisions and what your beliefs are and how to handle society with those beliefs.  With 85% of our lives being adults why do we have such a short view of parenting?

I’m not raising children.  I’m raising people to be functioning adults.  From the very first lesson, to the day they walk out my door the last time, I am making an effort help a person become the best they can be.  I’m not super mom.  I make a lot of mistakes.  I try hard, and cry a lot.   But I’m not focused on my kids being kids.  I’m focused on who they will become.

This is one of those things, that once said (or written) becomes an ‘aha’, ‘well that’s a no brainer’ kind of idea.  Deep down we all want our children to have a future and the choices we make in regards to parenting, both good and bad, are all to that goal.  The problem is the everyday choices, good and bad, get lost in the shuffle.

Parenting is hard.  No one age is any harder or easier than any other.  They all come with their own joys and pitfalls.  Occasionally individual children have ages that are easier than others, but no one GREAT age over all.  Kids have temper tantrums.  My 10 year old STILL has temper tantrums almost daily.  People see this and try to judge what kind of parent I am.  Obviously I must be doing something wrong.  Children who are given consistency don’t act like this, right?  In this case, wrong. 

I have never once in either of my children’s lives given in to a temper tantrum.  Not once.  I have one particularly interesting memory that many parents laugh over when they hear the story of my son at age 2.  I was very pregnant with my daughter.  About to burst in a few weeks.  I was a single parent at that time.  I won’t bore you with the drama, but things were very hard for us.  I’d had to take public transportation with my heavy belly and a 2 year old on a 30 minute ride to get to the closest store I could pay a bill at.  I’d learned by then to pack snacks and toys and things to do.  I used the small cane stroller for ease on the bus, and otherwise employed all the tricks I could think of.  But my son was 2 and having to sit still and behave on a bus ride and walk for long distances and wait in lines.  Honestly there’s only so much a kid can take in that circumstance and there was no babysitter to leave him with, no kindly grandma nearby or even a trustworthy neighbor.  I couldn’t wait to pay the bill or I would lose electricity.  I couldn’t pay early because the doctor had taken me off work so I had no income worth talking about.  All the standard ideas parents and well meaning non-parents alike had for avoiding this situation were just not going to work.  We were in this ‘melt down waiting to happen’ place and no way to get out of it.

Anyone used to small children, parents or not, can see what is coming.  I don’t remember what I had to say no to, but that was the last straw for his baby mind.  He reached his limit in the middle of a store, waiting at the service counter.  I was rightfully exhausted, in pain from pregnancy problems and pretty much at my limit too.  I think it was the exhaustion that led to my response.  He sprawled his little baby butt on the floor of the store kicking and screaming.  As tantrums go, this was a mach 4.  I sighed and conducted my business.  I carefully scooted him away from everyone else and leaned against the counter watching him.  After a bit he stopped and looked at me as if to say, “Have you had enough yet?  Did I get my way?”  I know he was 2 and probably didn’t really understand what I said, but I looked at him and asked, “Are you done yet?”  He wasn’t.  This went on for another 10 minutes before he was tired enough to give up.  I’m not entirely sure he even remembered what the problem was.

I was too tired to carry him out of the store, but if I did where was I going to take him?  Truth be told he was beyond my high risk pregnancy weight limit so I could have done myself and his germinating sister damage.  The responses I got from people during this episode were an entire study in psychology.  Some laughed and encouraged me.  Even not knowing I really had no choice here, they got it.  They may or may not have been parents.  Some shook their heads in disgust.  They may or may not have been parents.  Some openly glared at me.  I’m pretty sure they were not parents, but they might have been. 

All I could think during this was that I was too tired to care what anyone thought of me and if I gave into him now, no matter how tired I was, he’ll never learn.  I wasn’t thinking, oh then he’ll be bad more often.  I was thinking how pathetic it would be to watch a grown man throw a tantrum (this of course excludes people with various issues like autism or FAS, etc.).  The bad part is, in my lifetime I have seen, otherwise mentally and emotionally healthy adults throw temper tantrums or think the world is their oyster.  These people, as annoying as they are, have not been taught to be adults.  For whatever reason, their parent’s eyes were not on the prize…the end result.

I don’t mean to be accusatory.  Parenting is literally the hardest job on the planet, and the most important…and the most rewarding.  As I said before I have not always made the right choice or been perfect, but my eye is always on the prize.  My kids suck at doing dishes.  They rush through and put things away dirty, they leave water everywhere, they break things.  Sure it’s easier and more effective to just do the dishes myself, and sometimes I’ve so had it with them I do, but what do they learn?  If I don’t stick to it now, when they move out on their own they’ll get sick or have bug infestations because they don’t know how to do the dishes right.  Sure it’s easier to just let them wear the morally reprehensible clothing options (tube tops, skirts that show butt cheeks, writing across the ass of pants, adds for drugs or alcohol) their friends wear, but then what kind of self respect am I teaching them?  What kind of mates are they going to end up with (gay or straight) then?  Sure it’s easier to just give the kid a candy bar or chips or caffeinated soda, but if I don’t work to give them healthy bodies now, how can I expect them to be healthy adults?  How can I expect them to make good food choice and to know that while this piece of pizza tastes great if they have too much they’ll feel sick.  I have to show them those connections.

I read a great blog post by Matt Walsh about peoples’ reactions to public temper tantrums.  It was a great read and made some valid points.  I encourage you to read it.  What I loved even more about the post was the conversation that ensued about it.  It wasn’t heavily abusive like I’ve seen some of those things go, but had a lot of great points and counter points.  The readers really thought about what he had to say.  Some agreed and some didn’t.  But it prompts me to say this:

When you see a child melting down in a public place, I know you are annoyed and irritated and parents and non parents alike wish the child would just stop remember this:  What kind of adult do you want to live with for 85% of their lives?  This 15% where parents work their hardest is short lived and the choices they make now effect an entire generation.  Remember as well that you have no idea what choices the parent has so don’t assume they can just leave or that good parents don’t have kids that throw temper tantrums. 

Society as a whole, parents and non parents alike, need to keep their eyes on the prize and stop judging.  Maybe if you, the person who may or may not have children, who may or may not be well behaved, took a moment to think about what kind of adult you want to share space with will do things like encourage the parent in question to stay the course because you don’t want this child thinking adults get to do these things.  You know that if the child does grow up thinking they can act like that, you’re the one that will have to share this planet with them.

Closet Cases

Recently I had homophobia stare me in the face.  It was a hard moment for me.  I had a dear friend with whom I had been through many things, get offended near to the point of being irate because I said her adult, straight, happily married daughter was pretty enough to date.  It was an innocent one off comment that meant very little.  In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best comment to share with the world, but this was a friend; someone I trusted with my children.  I trusted her so I didn’t edit myself.  I thought that because she knew I was bisexual for years now and never judged me on it that she was one of the safe people in my life.  A long friendship is now ended because of this.

I was so angry when this happened it prompted me to write the following FaceBook post:  Dear world, I am bisexual. There is nothing wrong with being bisexual, heterosexual, or homosexual. We are all born to be one of the three or possibly more options. This is not something I can control. I will not hide myself because some people might be frightened of it. I will not refrain from thinking a girl is pretty especially when said girl reminds me of my girlfriend whom I miss. It does not mean I will chase after or proposition anyone. I have a lot of love in my life I am not going to 'turn' your daughter or sister. It doesn't work that way. Everyone now knows these things about me. Can we please move on peacefully and judge a little less?

 While I was pleased with the overwhelming positive support I received, even from my family, I still morn for that friend.

Ironically, this post was also taken as my coming out of the closet speech, which is interesting to me.  I never considered myself to be in the closet in the first place.  I didn’t go to my parents house and talk about how there was this hot chic at store, but it was a pretty open secret if it was ever a secret at all.  My husband knows.  He even encourages my relationship with my girlfriend and the two of them are good friends.  All of my co-workers and friends know about my girlfriend and my husband.  My kids know.  They wanted to know who the woman was Mommy was always talking to.  So I told them she was my girlfriend and I love her like I love Daddy.  They sort of shrugged and let that roll off.  I’ve told my children for as long as they have been alive that I didn’t care if they liked boys or girls or both.  I didn’t care who they loved or how they loved as long as they loved.  They are 10 and almost 13 as I write this, so this is the time when their pituitary glands will begin to answer those questions for us.

I do have friends who are in the closet.  I’m a braver person when I am fighting for loved ones.  I think I tried very hard not to hide who I was so they would see it was okay, that even if the world did take a crap on them I was right there beside them.  I know I stay public for my girlfriend so that she feels like our relationship is validated and hopefully has the strength to tell her family.  I’m patient, but not a saint.  I know the fear of people’s reactions and possibly losing those you care about.  I understand it, even.  I am pagan and remained in the broom closet where my family and certain friends were concerned for years.  I rode my broom into the sunshine about two years ago.  Funny how I found being bisexual more socially acceptable than being pagan.

In a way this was a coming out of the closet experience for me after all.  Someone I cared about stopped editing herself and I was no longer seeing the world through the crack in the closet door.  Now I was face to face with something I had hoped never to personally experience.  The door was wide open and the light shone on my face along with the cold shadow.

Fear.

Fear of me, of who I am, of how the All That Is created me from someone who should know better.  What hurt the most was not that she had a moment of fear, but that it was fear of me.  After all this time and all the things we had done for each other and our families, after all the hurt and pain and joy we shared, she found me fearful.  I kept thinking there has to be something more to this.  I don’t understand why this is a big deal.  This couldn’t end like this.  The reality is, something about me being bisexual frightens her.

Why is that?  I know I will never get an answer to that, but I’m human.  I’m drawn to ask.  I’m drawn to rack my brain to understand why.  I’d had conversations with her before and the logic of not choosing this and good people are good people was used.  But when she was faced with the idea that her daughter was attractive to other women she had a knee jerk fear reaction.  I knew fear existed.  I’d seen it played out on social media sites and in the news all the time, but it never touched me.  Not like that.