Renée Swann's Blog, page 4
March 28, 2014
Songs That Inspired the 'My Never' Trilogy
All of the songs on this playlist inspired me while writing My Never. Some represent elements of the characters and plot. Though this is just a distilled version of the playlist as there were nearly eighty songs!
Blue October has been a massive inspiration for me while writing this trilogy. In fact, their song My Never helped me create the series. It’s a song about just missing out on being with your “never” — the person that you know deep in your soul that you’re supposed to be with, that shakes you to the core, but it isn’t working out for one reason or another. So you have to let them go and hope they come back to you one day. It’s a beautiful and sad song. And it haunted me for days after I listened to it (over and over).
When I was trying to come up with ideas for a short story competition in early 2013, two characters popped into my head. They were high school sweethearts who, for twelve years, were trying to get back together, but it wasn’t working. They loved each other so much but they had their set of obstacles to conquer first. But when they stopped trying, everything seemed to click into place.
The message: True love is eternal. Never lose hope.
Direct link
Blue October has been a massive inspiration for me while writing this trilogy. In fact, their song My Never helped me create the series. It’s a song about just missing out on being with your “never” — the person that you know deep in your soul that you’re supposed to be with, that shakes you to the core, but it isn’t working out for one reason or another. So you have to let them go and hope they come back to you one day. It’s a beautiful and sad song. And it haunted me for days after I listened to it (over and over).
When I was trying to come up with ideas for a short story competition in early 2013, two characters popped into my head. They were high school sweethearts who, for twelve years, were trying to get back together, but it wasn’t working. They loved each other so much but they had their set of obstacles to conquer first. But when they stopped trying, everything seemed to click into place.
The message: True love is eternal. Never lose hope.
Direct link
March 5, 2014
February Wrapup
Last month I finished writing The Forsaken (The Hunted, #2), cut 10k words from this manuscript, my nephew was born (8lb 10oz), I read lots of awesome books, gave a few of my own away and found/accomplished these awesome things:
15 YA dystopia books to read if you liked The Hunger Games.
6 pieces of advice from successful writers.
Writers + Yoga = better writing?
I hosted Katie Hayoz , Margo Bond Collins and Bruce A. Borders on my blog.
Mum brought me these:
And, finally, had this awesome haul delivered: 
My dog (Abbey) thought it was hilarious to play Houdini and climb onto the barbeque.
How was your February?
I'm gearing up for Camp NaNoWriMo in April! Anyone doing the same?
15 YA dystopia books to read if you liked The Hunger Games.
6 pieces of advice from successful writers.
Writers + Yoga = better writing?
I hosted Katie Hayoz , Margo Bond Collins and Bruce A. Borders on my blog.
Mum brought me these:
And, finally, had this awesome haul delivered: My dog (Abbey) thought it was hilarious to play Houdini and climb onto the barbeque. How was your February?I'm gearing up for Camp NaNoWriMo in April! Anyone doing the same?
February 28, 2014
What Qualifies Us As Writers?
What do you think it takes to be a writer? Life experience? Practice? A degree? Years of trudging through, writing multiple manuscripts?
All of the above. Because the basic answer is: anyone can be a writer. And each person finds their path to being a writer in a different way.
Though not everyone should be a writer.
Being a writer is about putting in the time and effort. The practice. Being able to connect with readers, to talk about emotion and the icky things in life (for me, “icky” things include mushrooms and the colour pink – you already knew I was weird, right?). To realise we are always learning, always discovering a new way to spin a sentence or word. We are ever-changing. And that’s what I love about being a writer.
What do think it takes? And what is your favourite part about being a word nerd?
All of the above. Because the basic answer is: anyone can be a writer. And each person finds their path to being a writer in a different way.
Though not everyone should be a writer.
Being a writer is about putting in the time and effort. The practice. Being able to connect with readers, to talk about emotion and the icky things in life (for me, “icky” things include mushrooms and the colour pink – you already knew I was weird, right?). To realise we are always learning, always discovering a new way to spin a sentence or word. We are ever-changing. And that’s what I love about being a writer.
What do think it takes? And what is your favourite part about being a word nerd?
February 17, 2014
Guest Post by Bruce A. Borders
Excerpt From Over My Dead Body 
Thwack! The bullet bit into the side of the wooden doorframe, inches from the man’s head, spraying splinters into his face. The initial shock lasted only briefly, as survival instinct took over, compelling the man to action. Diving back into the house, he kicked the door shut and crawled to the kitchen.
“Get in the basement,” he shouted to his wife.
Outside, an authoritative and commanding voice blasted orders through a megaphone. The eerie sound echoed through the walls of the house.
“And what are you going to do?” the worried woman asked nervously. “You can’t stop them all. Those are cops!”
“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do,” he replied tersely. “Just take Ashley and go to the basement.”
His wife scooped up their three-year-old daughter. Half running, half falling, she stumbled down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she heard the door above her slam. In a daze, she scrambled to the far corner, crouching under her husband’s workbench, huddling with her daughter.
After they were safely out of sight, her husband moved swiftly to the bedroom. In grim determination, he retrieved a key from his desk. His jaw set with a resolute purpose, he strode to the gun cabinet in the den.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The June day had begun like any other, a typical Monday morning. Jeff Blake left for work at the usual six-thirty a.m. Arriving at the investment brokerage firm of Avian Financial Services downtown Fairfield, where he worked as an investment advisor, he sauntered into the office shortly before eight o’clock. In the distance, a factory whistle blew, proclaiming the beginning of the workweek.
Deeply immersed in paperwork, Jeff hardly noticed as his secretary, twenty-three year old Janet Dempson, came in to announce his nine o’clock appointment with a potential new client, Mr. Clint Parkens. Shuffling through mountainous piles of files, heaped on the desk, he looked up as she ushered the man in. Smiling politely, Jeff invited his visitor to have a seat. With a slight nod, the man sat down.
Pushing the paperwork aside, Jeff asked, “What can we do for you today?”
“I want to make some investments,” the well-dressed man answered curtly. “But I don’t want to lose any money.”
Again, Jeff smiled. The edgy wariness was a quite common attribute among first time investors. In a calm, reassuring and soothing tone, he explained the investment process. Unlike many advisors, he always made it a point to stress the fact there were no guarantees in this business.
“Investing doesn’t have to be a losing proposition,” he began. “There are several safeguards available, but it is still a gamble. The greater the risk, the more you stand to gain on the investment. Of course,” he added, “if you’re not willing to take a major risk, we have a number of options which generally provide modest returns. It’s really up to each individual, according to their own comfort level. But unfortunately,” he repeated, “there are no guarantees.”
Across the desk, the man seated in the posh corner office said nothing, staring straight at Jeff; he remained lost in thought, contemplating what he’d been told.
Jeff had seen it before; the uncertain look, the reluctance to commit. With the expertise of a seasoned salesman, he gently prodded the hesitant client.
“We could start small,” he suggested. “That would provide an opportunity to become familiar with the process and a chance to build some confidence as you learn the business of investing. Then when you’re comfortable, you can increase the investment capital as you see fit.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of you providing me with the essential information I need to make a profit,” Clint said bluntly.
“Well, we offer advice,” Jeff patiently explained. “But the decisions of where to place your money and how much to invest, are strictly up to you, the investor.”
The man’s calm demeanor abruptly changed. “Look,” he said, “I’ll cut to the chase. You’re an investment broker, which means you have certain privileged information; valuable information; information I can’t get.”
“Yes,” Jeff acknowledged. “We base our recommendations on information such as past performance, industry trends, and other leading market indicators.”
Clint Parkens shook his head. “I’m talking about what you know regarding stocks and pricing – beforehand.”
“Mr. Parkens, what you are suggesting is known as insider trading,” Jeff said in a sharp tone. “It’s not only highly unethical, but illegal. We, as any reputable firm, simply do not engage in that type of practice.”
“Except for yourself, a few close friends and family, right?” Clint sneered.
“No,” Jeff said slowly, his manner now more subdued. “It’s illegal for me to personally act on, or provide insider information to anyone.”
Clint scowled, glaring at the investment advisor. “You have a three-year-old daughter, don’t you?” he asked with a hostile tone.
Caught off guard, Jeff didn’t know what to say. “Uh, yes,” he stuttered, glancing involuntarily at the picture on his desk. He wondered how this client, whom he’d never met, had known about Ashley. And what relevance did it have to their conversation?
As if in answer to Jeff’s unspoken questions, Clint said, “You don’t know me but, I’m the Director of Child Protective Services for Grover County.”
“Okay,” Jeff replied, still not sure where Mr. Parkens was going with all this.
“All I have to do is give the word and your daughter, Ashley,” he added with intent, “will be taken into protective custody. And you,” he said, wagging a finger, “will never see her again.”
Blake studied his client. The man was dead serious; his unblinking stare didn’t waver. The look in the man’s eyes sent a chill up Jeff’s spine. “Mr. Parkens,” he said suddenly, “I think it’s time for you to leave. You can’t come into my office and threaten me.” He pushed the button to page Miss Dempson.
“It wasn’t a threat.” Clint said coldly. “Think of it as just making a deal. You helping me, and me helping you.”
“No, I don’t think so,” answered Jeff.
“Either you provide me the information to secure and protect my investments, or your daughter will be going away,” Clint said with a sinister sneer.
“Over my dead body!”
“That can be arranged,” Clint replied menacingly.
Jeff Blake was normally a patient man, but he finally lost his professional poise. Springing to his feet, he shouted, “You go ahead and try it! But you’d better bring an army, because one thing I can guarantee is, someone will be dead! No one, not you and not your friggin’ agency, will take my daughter! No one!”
Miss Dempson nudged open the door, peering in with a look of minor alarm. Clint Parkens calmly prepared to leave. Lingering at the door, he turned, looking back toward Jeff.
“Just remember, it was your choice,” he said ominously. Then the man was gone.
Janet closed the door behind the man and Jeff eased back into his chair, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He shouldn’t have lost his cool, he told himself. Doing so was unprofessional. But the guy, with his belligerent attitude and hostile threats had gotten under his skin.
Taking a deep breath, Jeff noticed he’d been chewing his lip, a habit exhibited when he was tense. Still on edge, abruptly he made the decision to go home. More than likely, it was nothing to worry about, nothing at all, merely idle threats. But he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he’d had since the man had left. If anything did come of the visit, he wanted to be prepared.
Glancing down, he saw the tape recorder on his desk shelf was still running. Out of habit, he’d hit the record button as Miss Dempson had shown Mr. Parkens into the office.
Stopping the recorder, Jeff ejected the tape and slipped it into his pocket. Passing through the outer office, he instructed Janet to cancel his appointments for the rest of the day.
“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.
He nodded. “I’m fine. I just have some things I need to take care of.”
Heading for the parking garage, he was still seething. Angry at Mr. Parkens, and at himself for reacting the way he had. He should have just kept quiet, but he’d never been able to successfully follow the advice of his brain very well, and instead he’d compounded the problem by responding with threats of his own. That had been a mistake. A costly mistake. As he would soon discover.
Jeff barely had time to explain to his wife Amy, why he was home so early, before they’d shown up. They, being the police.
Thank you Rave Reviews Book Club! I feel honored to be this week’s “SPOTLIGHT” Author. And, a huge thanks to all the members who agreed to host me on their site!
Bruce A. Borders Over My Dead Body Links: Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords
Sony Reader
iTunes
Kobo
Connect With Bruce:
Twitter: @BruceABorders
Facebook
Website
Goodreads
Rave Reviews Book Club is pleased to announce a new Facebook "Question of the Day"! In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along:
Bruce's questions & answers on THIS site:
1. RRBC: Do you read all reviews?
B.B.: Authors are usually cautioned to not read reviews. The bad ones serve to agitate and the good ones bring a false sense of the quality of the work. Yet, like most authors, I do read them.
2. RRBC: Why are reviews important?
B.B.: Reviews sell books—even negative reviews can help a reader decide if my book is the right one for him or her at that moment!
3. RRBC: What advice would you give aspiring writers?
B.B.: Write what you like. Edit, and edit again, until it is the best it can be. Don’t give up.
4. RRBC: What can you tell us about what we’ll see from you next?
B.B.: I’m currently working on book seven of the Wynn Garrett Series as well as another crime fiction novel.
5. RRBC: Why did you choose to publish as an Indie Author?
B.B.: Traditional publishing requires the constant sending out of queries to agents and potential publishers. If the author lands a deal right away, that works fine. But if not, this continued process takes a lot of time, time that would be better spent writing the next book. Also, with self-publishing, I choose what to write, when and where to release it, etc.
6. RRBC: What obstacles have you encountered?
B.B.: Marketing seems nearly impossible at first, for the Indie Author. With no name recognition and a limited advertising budget, books are not going to get a lot of visibility.
7. RRBC: How did you overcome those challenges?
B.B.: By listing my books anywhere that would allow me to, and making the books available to every retailer I could in both ebook and paperback editions. Social media plays a big part as well.
THANK YOU for stopping by! To read different posts, including excerpts from "Over My Dead Body," please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on:
www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules. wordpress.com
Thwack! The bullet bit into the side of the wooden doorframe, inches from the man’s head, spraying splinters into his face. The initial shock lasted only briefly, as survival instinct took over, compelling the man to action. Diving back into the house, he kicked the door shut and crawled to the kitchen.“Get in the basement,” he shouted to his wife.
Outside, an authoritative and commanding voice blasted orders through a megaphone. The eerie sound echoed through the walls of the house.
“And what are you going to do?” the worried woman asked nervously. “You can’t stop them all. Those are cops!”
“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do,” he replied tersely. “Just take Ashley and go to the basement.”
His wife scooped up their three-year-old daughter. Half running, half falling, she stumbled down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she heard the door above her slam. In a daze, she scrambled to the far corner, crouching under her husband’s workbench, huddling with her daughter.
After they were safely out of sight, her husband moved swiftly to the bedroom. In grim determination, he retrieved a key from his desk. His jaw set with a resolute purpose, he strode to the gun cabinet in the den.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The June day had begun like any other, a typical Monday morning. Jeff Blake left for work at the usual six-thirty a.m. Arriving at the investment brokerage firm of Avian Financial Services downtown Fairfield, where he worked as an investment advisor, he sauntered into the office shortly before eight o’clock. In the distance, a factory whistle blew, proclaiming the beginning of the workweek.
Deeply immersed in paperwork, Jeff hardly noticed as his secretary, twenty-three year old Janet Dempson, came in to announce his nine o’clock appointment with a potential new client, Mr. Clint Parkens. Shuffling through mountainous piles of files, heaped on the desk, he looked up as she ushered the man in. Smiling politely, Jeff invited his visitor to have a seat. With a slight nod, the man sat down.
Pushing the paperwork aside, Jeff asked, “What can we do for you today?”
“I want to make some investments,” the well-dressed man answered curtly. “But I don’t want to lose any money.”
Again, Jeff smiled. The edgy wariness was a quite common attribute among first time investors. In a calm, reassuring and soothing tone, he explained the investment process. Unlike many advisors, he always made it a point to stress the fact there were no guarantees in this business.
“Investing doesn’t have to be a losing proposition,” he began. “There are several safeguards available, but it is still a gamble. The greater the risk, the more you stand to gain on the investment. Of course,” he added, “if you’re not willing to take a major risk, we have a number of options which generally provide modest returns. It’s really up to each individual, according to their own comfort level. But unfortunately,” he repeated, “there are no guarantees.”
Across the desk, the man seated in the posh corner office said nothing, staring straight at Jeff; he remained lost in thought, contemplating what he’d been told.
Jeff had seen it before; the uncertain look, the reluctance to commit. With the expertise of a seasoned salesman, he gently prodded the hesitant client.
“We could start small,” he suggested. “That would provide an opportunity to become familiar with the process and a chance to build some confidence as you learn the business of investing. Then when you’re comfortable, you can increase the investment capital as you see fit.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of you providing me with the essential information I need to make a profit,” Clint said bluntly.
“Well, we offer advice,” Jeff patiently explained. “But the decisions of where to place your money and how much to invest, are strictly up to you, the investor.”
The man’s calm demeanor abruptly changed. “Look,” he said, “I’ll cut to the chase. You’re an investment broker, which means you have certain privileged information; valuable information; information I can’t get.”
“Yes,” Jeff acknowledged. “We base our recommendations on information such as past performance, industry trends, and other leading market indicators.”
Clint Parkens shook his head. “I’m talking about what you know regarding stocks and pricing – beforehand.”
“Mr. Parkens, what you are suggesting is known as insider trading,” Jeff said in a sharp tone. “It’s not only highly unethical, but illegal. We, as any reputable firm, simply do not engage in that type of practice.”
“Except for yourself, a few close friends and family, right?” Clint sneered.
“No,” Jeff said slowly, his manner now more subdued. “It’s illegal for me to personally act on, or provide insider information to anyone.”
Clint scowled, glaring at the investment advisor. “You have a three-year-old daughter, don’t you?” he asked with a hostile tone.
Caught off guard, Jeff didn’t know what to say. “Uh, yes,” he stuttered, glancing involuntarily at the picture on his desk. He wondered how this client, whom he’d never met, had known about Ashley. And what relevance did it have to their conversation?
As if in answer to Jeff’s unspoken questions, Clint said, “You don’t know me but, I’m the Director of Child Protective Services for Grover County.”
“Okay,” Jeff replied, still not sure where Mr. Parkens was going with all this.
“All I have to do is give the word and your daughter, Ashley,” he added with intent, “will be taken into protective custody. And you,” he said, wagging a finger, “will never see her again.”
Blake studied his client. The man was dead serious; his unblinking stare didn’t waver. The look in the man’s eyes sent a chill up Jeff’s spine. “Mr. Parkens,” he said suddenly, “I think it’s time for you to leave. You can’t come into my office and threaten me.” He pushed the button to page Miss Dempson.
“It wasn’t a threat.” Clint said coldly. “Think of it as just making a deal. You helping me, and me helping you.”
“No, I don’t think so,” answered Jeff.
“Either you provide me the information to secure and protect my investments, or your daughter will be going away,” Clint said with a sinister sneer.
“Over my dead body!”
“That can be arranged,” Clint replied menacingly.
Jeff Blake was normally a patient man, but he finally lost his professional poise. Springing to his feet, he shouted, “You go ahead and try it! But you’d better bring an army, because one thing I can guarantee is, someone will be dead! No one, not you and not your friggin’ agency, will take my daughter! No one!”
Miss Dempson nudged open the door, peering in with a look of minor alarm. Clint Parkens calmly prepared to leave. Lingering at the door, he turned, looking back toward Jeff.
“Just remember, it was your choice,” he said ominously. Then the man was gone.
Janet closed the door behind the man and Jeff eased back into his chair, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He shouldn’t have lost his cool, he told himself. Doing so was unprofessional. But the guy, with his belligerent attitude and hostile threats had gotten under his skin.
Taking a deep breath, Jeff noticed he’d been chewing his lip, a habit exhibited when he was tense. Still on edge, abruptly he made the decision to go home. More than likely, it was nothing to worry about, nothing at all, merely idle threats. But he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he’d had since the man had left. If anything did come of the visit, he wanted to be prepared.
Glancing down, he saw the tape recorder on his desk shelf was still running. Out of habit, he’d hit the record button as Miss Dempson had shown Mr. Parkens into the office.
Stopping the recorder, Jeff ejected the tape and slipped it into his pocket. Passing through the outer office, he instructed Janet to cancel his appointments for the rest of the day.
“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.
He nodded. “I’m fine. I just have some things I need to take care of.”
Heading for the parking garage, he was still seething. Angry at Mr. Parkens, and at himself for reacting the way he had. He should have just kept quiet, but he’d never been able to successfully follow the advice of his brain very well, and instead he’d compounded the problem by responding with threats of his own. That had been a mistake. A costly mistake. As he would soon discover.
Jeff barely had time to explain to his wife Amy, why he was home so early, before they’d shown up. They, being the police.
Thank you Rave Reviews Book Club! I feel honored to be this week’s “SPOTLIGHT” Author. And, a huge thanks to all the members who agreed to host me on their site!
Bruce A. Borders Over My Dead Body Links: Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords
Sony Reader
iTunes
Kobo
Connect With Bruce:
Twitter: @BruceABordersWebsite
Goodreads
Rave Reviews Book Club is pleased to announce a new Facebook "Question of the Day"! In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along:
Bruce's questions & answers on THIS site:
1. RRBC: Do you read all reviews?
B.B.: Authors are usually cautioned to not read reviews. The bad ones serve to agitate and the good ones bring a false sense of the quality of the work. Yet, like most authors, I do read them.
2. RRBC: Why are reviews important?
B.B.: Reviews sell books—even negative reviews can help a reader decide if my book is the right one for him or her at that moment!
3. RRBC: What advice would you give aspiring writers?
B.B.: Write what you like. Edit, and edit again, until it is the best it can be. Don’t give up.
4. RRBC: What can you tell us about what we’ll see from you next?
B.B.: I’m currently working on book seven of the Wynn Garrett Series as well as another crime fiction novel.
5. RRBC: Why did you choose to publish as an Indie Author?
B.B.: Traditional publishing requires the constant sending out of queries to agents and potential publishers. If the author lands a deal right away, that works fine. But if not, this continued process takes a lot of time, time that would be better spent writing the next book. Also, with self-publishing, I choose what to write, when and where to release it, etc.
6. RRBC: What obstacles have you encountered?
B.B.: Marketing seems nearly impossible at first, for the Indie Author. With no name recognition and a limited advertising budget, books are not going to get a lot of visibility.
7. RRBC: How did you overcome those challenges?
B.B.: By listing my books anywhere that would allow me to, and making the books available to every retailer I could in both ebook and paperback editions. Social media plays a big part as well.
THANK YOU for stopping by! To read different posts, including excerpts from "Over My Dead Body," please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on:
www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules. wordpress.com
February 16, 2014
February Book Haul
Today’s post is dedicated to my Great-Aunt Rita who passed away last Sunday. Heaven gained another angel, and I know (or at least believe) she’s better off, being with her husband who passed away a couple years back. We miss you like crazy, Rita.
Today’s post is also fuelled by lots of coffee and a little too many books …
I waited an agonising five days for these books to be delivered, and I think this may be my best book haul yet!!
Here are the titles:
I’ve Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella
Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver
Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore
Eve and Adam by Michael Grant and Kathrine Applegate
Hourglass by Myra McEntire
Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi
Prodigy by Marie Lu
Champion by Marie Lu
Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell
PLUS three e-books:
The Twin Flames by K.L VanderWall
The Woodlands by Lauren Nicolle Taylor
The Wall by Lauren Nicolle Taylor
I wanted to begin reading all of the paperbacks straight away! But since that would be horribly confusing, I started on the one I was most looking forward to reading — Eleanor & Park (having all ready read the above e-books while waiting for the delivery).
And oh my! Katherine Applegate was one of my fave authors as a kid (known as K.A. Applegate then, author of the Animorphs series and the Remnants series) so I am so looking forward to reading Eve and Adam (a 99.99% chance of me reading it next).
Which books are you looking forward to getting or reading this month?
Today’s post is also fuelled by lots of coffee and a little too many books …
I waited an agonising five days for these books to be delivered, and I think this may be my best book haul yet!!Here are the titles:
I’ve Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella
Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver
Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore
Eve and Adam by Michael Grant and Kathrine Applegate
Hourglass by Myra McEntire
Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi
Prodigy by Marie Lu
Champion by Marie Lu
Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell
PLUS three e-books:
The Twin Flames by K.L VanderWall
The Woodlands by Lauren Nicolle Taylor
The Wall by Lauren Nicolle Taylor
I wanted to begin reading all of the paperbacks straight away! But since that would be horribly confusing, I started on the one I was most looking forward to reading — Eleanor & Park (having all ready read the above e-books while waiting for the delivery).
And oh my! Katherine Applegate was one of my fave authors as a kid (known as K.A. Applegate then, author of the Animorphs series and the Remnants series) so I am so looking forward to reading Eve and Adam (a 99.99% chance of me reading it next).
Which books are you looking forward to getting or reading this month?
February 8, 2014
Fairy, Texas ~ Guest post by Margo Bond Collins
All of the songs in this playlist represent some element of the characters, setting, or plot of Fairy, Texas—and they’re also the songs I listened to when I was writing the book!
Direct link . Fairy, Texas Blurb
Fairy, Texas. A small town like any other.
Laney Harris didn't want to live there. When her mother remarried and moved them to a town where a date meant hanging out at the Sonic, Laney figured that "boring" would have a whole new meaning. A new stepsister who despised her and a high school where she was the only topic of gossip were bad enough. But when she met the school counselor (and his terminal bad breath), she grew suspicious. Especially since he had wings that only she could see. And then there were Josh and Mason, two gorgeous glimmering-eyed classmates whose interest in her might not be for the reasons she hoped. Not to mention that dead guy she nearly tripped over in gym class.
She was right. Boring took on an entirely new dimension in Fairy, Texas.
Excerpt One: Fairy High could have fit into one wing of my old school. The three-story, red brick building looked like it had been around for at least a century—it actually had carvings over two of the doorways that read “Men’s Entrance” and “Women’s Entrance.” I was glad to see that none of the kids paid any attention to those instructions.
“Counselor’s office,” I muttered to myself. At least I wasn’t starting in the middle of a term—though given the fact that there were fewer than 500 students in the entire high school, I didn’t think I was going to be able to go unnoticed, even in the general bustle of the first day back from summer vacation.
I walked through the door marked “Men’s Entrance,” just be contrary, and faced a long hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. The spaces in between the doors were filled with lockers and marble staircases with ornate hand-rails flanked each end of the long hallway. Students poured in behind me, calling out greetings to each other and jostling me off to the side while I tried to get my bearings. None of the doors obviously led to a main office; I was going to have to walk the entire length of the hallway. And people were already starting to stare and whisper.
God. I hated being the new kid.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I made it halfway down the hall without seeing anything informative—all the doors had numbers over them and many of them had name plaques, but neither of those things did me any good since I didn’t know the name or office number for the counselor. I was almost getting desperate enough to ask Kayla, but of course she was nowhere to be seen.
I turned back from scanning the halls for her and caught sight of the first adult I’d seen—and almost screamed. As it was, I gasped loudly enough for a guy walking past me to do a double take. The man standing in the open doorway was tall, over six feet, and way skinny—so emaciated that it looked like you ought to be able to see his ribs through his shirt, if his shirt didn’t hang so loosely on him. He had white hair that stuck out in tufts, thin lips, a sharp nose, and pale blue eyes that narrowed as he watched the kids walk past—and all the kids gave him a wide berth without even seeming to notice that they did so. He stood in an empty circle while students streamed around him in the crowded hallway.
But none of that was what made me almost scream.
For a moment, just as I’d turned toward him, I could have sworn that I’d seen the shadow of two huge, black, leathery wings stretched out behind him.
Buy Fairy, Texas (Kindle e-book)
About the Author
Margo Bond Collins is the author of a number of novels, including Waking Up Dead, Fairy, Texas, and Legally Undead (forthcoming in 2014). She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. She teaches college-level English courses online, though writing fiction is her first love. She enjoys reading urban fantasy and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about vampires, ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and other monsters.
Connect With Margo Amazon Author Page
Website
Twitter: @MargoBondCollin
Google+
Goodreads Author Page
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Novel Page
Tumblr
Pinterest
Manic Readers
Email: MargoBondCollins@gmail.com
Be sure to add Fairy, Texas to your Goodreads bookshelves!
Rave Reviews Book Club is pleased to announce a new Facebook "Question of the Day"! In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along.
Margo's question & answer on THIS site:
Rave Reviews Book Club: Which character you've created is your favorite? Why?
Margo Bond Collins: In "Waking Up Dead," the character of Maw-Maw is actually largely based on a combination of my own grandmother and great-grandmother--the only real difference is that they were white and from Texas rather than black and from Alabama. Otherwise, she talks like them and acts like them. It's my great-grandmother's voice I hear in my head when I write her dialogue, my grandmother's movements I see when I picture her walking around. Physically, I imagine her looking a bit like Ruby Dee in the television movie version of The Stand. But her attitude? That's straight from my own family! I adore Maw-Maw.
THANK YOU for stopping by! To read different posts, including excepts from "Fairy, Texas" and character profiles, please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on: www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules. wordpress.com
Direct link . Fairy, Texas Blurb
Fairy, Texas. A small town like any other.Laney Harris didn't want to live there. When her mother remarried and moved them to a town where a date meant hanging out at the Sonic, Laney figured that "boring" would have a whole new meaning. A new stepsister who despised her and a high school where she was the only topic of gossip were bad enough. But when she met the school counselor (and his terminal bad breath), she grew suspicious. Especially since he had wings that only she could see. And then there were Josh and Mason, two gorgeous glimmering-eyed classmates whose interest in her might not be for the reasons she hoped. Not to mention that dead guy she nearly tripped over in gym class.
She was right. Boring took on an entirely new dimension in Fairy, Texas.
Excerpt One: Fairy High could have fit into one wing of my old school. The three-story, red brick building looked like it had been around for at least a century—it actually had carvings over two of the doorways that read “Men’s Entrance” and “Women’s Entrance.” I was glad to see that none of the kids paid any attention to those instructions.
“Counselor’s office,” I muttered to myself. At least I wasn’t starting in the middle of a term—though given the fact that there were fewer than 500 students in the entire high school, I didn’t think I was going to be able to go unnoticed, even in the general bustle of the first day back from summer vacation.
I walked through the door marked “Men’s Entrance,” just be contrary, and faced a long hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. The spaces in between the doors were filled with lockers and marble staircases with ornate hand-rails flanked each end of the long hallway. Students poured in behind me, calling out greetings to each other and jostling me off to the side while I tried to get my bearings. None of the doors obviously led to a main office; I was going to have to walk the entire length of the hallway. And people were already starting to stare and whisper.
God. I hated being the new kid.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I made it halfway down the hall without seeing anything informative—all the doors had numbers over them and many of them had name plaques, but neither of those things did me any good since I didn’t know the name or office number for the counselor. I was almost getting desperate enough to ask Kayla, but of course she was nowhere to be seen.
I turned back from scanning the halls for her and caught sight of the first adult I’d seen—and almost screamed. As it was, I gasped loudly enough for a guy walking past me to do a double take. The man standing in the open doorway was tall, over six feet, and way skinny—so emaciated that it looked like you ought to be able to see his ribs through his shirt, if his shirt didn’t hang so loosely on him. He had white hair that stuck out in tufts, thin lips, a sharp nose, and pale blue eyes that narrowed as he watched the kids walk past—and all the kids gave him a wide berth without even seeming to notice that they did so. He stood in an empty circle while students streamed around him in the crowded hallway.
But none of that was what made me almost scream.
For a moment, just as I’d turned toward him, I could have sworn that I’d seen the shadow of two huge, black, leathery wings stretched out behind him.
Buy Fairy, Texas (Kindle e-book)
About the Author
Margo Bond Collins is the author of a number of novels, including Waking Up Dead, Fairy, Texas, and Legally Undead (forthcoming in 2014). She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. She teaches college-level English courses online, though writing fiction is her first love. She enjoys reading urban fantasy and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about vampires, ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and other monsters.Connect With Margo Amazon Author Page
Website
Twitter: @MargoBondCollin
Google+
Goodreads Author Page
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Novel Page
Tumblr
Manic Readers
Email: MargoBondCollins@gmail.com
Be sure to add Fairy, Texas to your Goodreads bookshelves!
Rave Reviews Book Club is pleased to announce a new Facebook "Question of the Day"! In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along.
Margo's question & answer on THIS site:
Rave Reviews Book Club: Which character you've created is your favorite? Why?
Margo Bond Collins: In "Waking Up Dead," the character of Maw-Maw is actually largely based on a combination of my own grandmother and great-grandmother--the only real difference is that they were white and from Texas rather than black and from Alabama. Otherwise, she talks like them and acts like them. It's my great-grandmother's voice I hear in my head when I write her dialogue, my grandmother's movements I see when I picture her walking around. Physically, I imagine her looking a bit like Ruby Dee in the television movie version of The Stand. But her attitude? That's straight from my own family! I adore Maw-Maw.
THANK YOU for stopping by! To read different posts, including excepts from "Fairy, Texas" and character profiles, please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on: www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules. wordpress.com
Fairy, Texas ~ Guest post by Margo Bond COllins
All of the songs in this playlist represent some element of the characters, setting, or plot of Fairy, Texas—and they’re also the songs I listened to when I was writing the book!
Direct link . Fairy, Texas Blurb Fairy, Texas. A small town like any other.
Laney Harris didn't want to live there. When her mother remarried and moved them to a town where a date meant hanging out at the Sonic, Laney figured that "boring" would have a whole new meaning. A new stepsister who despised her and a high school where she was the only topic of gossip were bad enough. But when she met the school counselor (and his terminal bad breath), she grew suspicious. Especially since he had wings that only she could see. And then there were Josh and Mason, two gorgeous glimmering-eyed classmates whose interest in her might not be for the reasons she hoped. Not to mention that dead guy she nearly tripped over in gym class.
She was right. Boring took on an entirely new dimension in Fairy, Texas.
Excerpt One: Fairy High could have fit into one wing of my old school. The three-story, red brick building looked like it had been around for at least a century—it actually had carvings over two of the doorways that read “Men’s Entrance” and “Women’s Entrance.” I was glad to see that none of the kids paid any attention to those instructions.
“Counselor’s office,” I muttered to myself. At least I wasn’t starting in the middle of a term—though given the fact that there were fewer than 500 students in the entire high school, I didn’t think I was going to be able to go unnoticed, even in the general bustle of the first day back from summer vacation.
I walked through the door marked “Men’s Entrance,” just be contrary, and faced a long hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. The spaces in between the doors were filled with lockers and marble staircases with ornate hand-rails flanked each end of the long hallway. Students poured in behind me, calling out greetings to each other and jostling me off to the side while I tried to get my bearings. None of the doors obviously led to a main office; I was going to have to walk the entire length of the hallway. And people were already starting to stare and whisper.
God. I hated being the new kid.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I made it halfway down the hall without seeing anything informative—all the doors had numbers over them and many of them had name plaques, but neither of those things did me any good since I didn’t know the name or office number for the counselor. I was almost getting desperate enough to ask Kayla, but of course she was nowhere to be seen.
I turned back from scanning the halls for her and caught sight of the first adult I’d seen—and almost screamed. As it was, I gasped loudly enough for a guy walking past me to do a double take. The man standing in the open doorway was tall, over six feet, and way skinny—so emaciated that it looked like you ought to be able to see his ribs through his shirt, if his shirt didn’t hang so loosely on him. He had white hair that stuck out in tufts, thin lips, a sharp nose, and pale blue eyes that narrowed as he watched the kids walk past—and all the kids gave him a wide berth without even seeming to notice that they did so. He stood in an empty circle while students streamed around him in the crowded hallway.
But none of that was what made me almost scream.
For a moment, just as I’d turned toward him, I could have sworn that I’d seen the shadow of two huge, black, leathery wings stretched out behind him.
Buy Fairy, Texas (Kindle e-book)
About the Author
Margo Bond Collins is the author of a number of novels, including Waking Up Dead, Fairy, Texas, and Legally Undead (forthcoming in 2014). She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. She teaches college-level English courses online, though writing fiction is her first love. She enjoys reading urban fantasy and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about vampires, ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and other monsters.
Connect With Margo Amazon Author Page
Website
Twitter: @MargoBondCollin
Google+
Goodreads Author Page
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Novel Page
Tumblr
Pinterest
Manic Readers
Email: MargoBondCollins@gmail.com
Be sure to add Fairy, Texas to your Goodreads bookshelves!
Rave Reviews Book Club is pleased to announce a new Facebook "Question of the Day"! In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along.
Margo's question & answer on THIS site:
Rave Reviews Book Club: Which character you've created is your favorite? Why?
Margo Bond Collins: In "Waking Up Dead," the character of Maw-Maw is actually largely based on a combination of my own grandmother and great-grandmother--the only real difference is that they were white and from Texas rather than black and from Alabama. Otherwise, she talks like them and acts like them. It's my great-grandmother's voice I hear in my head when I write her dialogue, my grandmother's movements I see when I picture her walking around. Physically, I imagine her looking a bit like Ruby Dee in the television movie version of The Stand. But her attitude? That's straight from my own family! I adore Maw-Maw.
THANK YOU for stopping by! To read different posts, including excepts from "Fairy, Texas" and character profiles, please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on: www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules. wordpress.com
Direct link . Fairy, Texas Blurb
Fairy, Texas. A small town like any other.Laney Harris didn't want to live there. When her mother remarried and moved them to a town where a date meant hanging out at the Sonic, Laney figured that "boring" would have a whole new meaning. A new stepsister who despised her and a high school where she was the only topic of gossip were bad enough. But when she met the school counselor (and his terminal bad breath), she grew suspicious. Especially since he had wings that only she could see. And then there were Josh and Mason, two gorgeous glimmering-eyed classmates whose interest in her might not be for the reasons she hoped. Not to mention that dead guy she nearly tripped over in gym class.
She was right. Boring took on an entirely new dimension in Fairy, Texas.
Excerpt One: Fairy High could have fit into one wing of my old school. The three-story, red brick building looked like it had been around for at least a century—it actually had carvings over two of the doorways that read “Men’s Entrance” and “Women’s Entrance.” I was glad to see that none of the kids paid any attention to those instructions.
“Counselor’s office,” I muttered to myself. At least I wasn’t starting in the middle of a term—though given the fact that there were fewer than 500 students in the entire high school, I didn’t think I was going to be able to go unnoticed, even in the general bustle of the first day back from summer vacation.
I walked through the door marked “Men’s Entrance,” just be contrary, and faced a long hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. The spaces in between the doors were filled with lockers and marble staircases with ornate hand-rails flanked each end of the long hallway. Students poured in behind me, calling out greetings to each other and jostling me off to the side while I tried to get my bearings. None of the doors obviously led to a main office; I was going to have to walk the entire length of the hallway. And people were already starting to stare and whisper.
God. I hated being the new kid.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I made it halfway down the hall without seeing anything informative—all the doors had numbers over them and many of them had name plaques, but neither of those things did me any good since I didn’t know the name or office number for the counselor. I was almost getting desperate enough to ask Kayla, but of course she was nowhere to be seen.
I turned back from scanning the halls for her and caught sight of the first adult I’d seen—and almost screamed. As it was, I gasped loudly enough for a guy walking past me to do a double take. The man standing in the open doorway was tall, over six feet, and way skinny—so emaciated that it looked like you ought to be able to see his ribs through his shirt, if his shirt didn’t hang so loosely on him. He had white hair that stuck out in tufts, thin lips, a sharp nose, and pale blue eyes that narrowed as he watched the kids walk past—and all the kids gave him a wide berth without even seeming to notice that they did so. He stood in an empty circle while students streamed around him in the crowded hallway.
But none of that was what made me almost scream.
For a moment, just as I’d turned toward him, I could have sworn that I’d seen the shadow of two huge, black, leathery wings stretched out behind him.
Buy Fairy, Texas (Kindle e-book)
About the Author
Margo Bond Collins is the author of a number of novels, including Waking Up Dead, Fairy, Texas, and Legally Undead (forthcoming in 2014). She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. She teaches college-level English courses online, though writing fiction is her first love. She enjoys reading urban fantasy and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about vampires, ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and other monsters.Connect With Margo Amazon Author Page
Website
Twitter: @MargoBondCollin
Google+
Goodreads Author Page
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Novel Page
Tumblr
Manic Readers
Email: MargoBondCollins@gmail.com
Be sure to add Fairy, Texas to your Goodreads bookshelves!
Rave Reviews Book Club is pleased to announce a new Facebook "Question of the Day"! In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along.
Margo's question & answer on THIS site:
Rave Reviews Book Club: Which character you've created is your favorite? Why?
Margo Bond Collins: In "Waking Up Dead," the character of Maw-Maw is actually largely based on a combination of my own grandmother and great-grandmother--the only real difference is that they were white and from Texas rather than black and from Alabama. Otherwise, she talks like them and acts like them. It's my great-grandmother's voice I hear in my head when I write her dialogue, my grandmother's movements I see when I picture her walking around. Physically, I imagine her looking a bit like Ruby Dee in the television movie version of The Stand. But her attitude? That's straight from my own family! I adore Maw-Maw.
THANK YOU for stopping by! To read different posts, including excepts from "Fairy, Texas" and character profiles, please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on: www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules. wordpress.com
February 4, 2014
Allowing Ourselves To Fail
Over time, we become accustomed to getting what we want, succeeding, thriving in our good graces. Then when we fail, we can come down harshly on ourselves, be over-critical. But every failure has a purpose in our lives — even if it seems irrelevant at this point. At some time in our future, we may look back and laugh and shake our heads at how critical we were on ourselves. Because every failure strengthens us and reminds us we can do better. There is a lesson hiding behind every experience. It’s your choice how you respond and deal with the negativity in your life.
As a writer, I have faced struggles and failures many times over. Sometimes they drag me down. Sometimes I criticise myself too much — that’s not good enough, sounds as if a monkey wrote that blindfolded and drunk on rum, my writing stinks worse than a skunk. One of the things I’m struggling with this week while writing The Forsaken (the sequel to The Hunted ) is thinking my daily word count is simply not good enough. I’m five days in and I have written a grand total of 13,520 words. Pretty good, right? But the first two days I barely wrote 2,000 words each day and was half struggling to do so. I told myself that’s not good enough because I knew I could do much better. Most days I average 3-4,000. What I’ve learnt is: with every career, even writing, there are good days and bad. You can either work through the bad days or give up. I never ever give up (maybe one of my flaws — superhuman stubbornness?) because I really love writing. Even on the bad days. Take a break if you must, but then get right back to it.
The choice is yours, of course ;-)
Remember: failure is not as big a deal as we make it out to be. Go easy on yourself if you fail. Buy yourself a cupcake and enjoy the sugar rush while it lasts.
As a writer, I have faced struggles and failures many times over. Sometimes they drag me down. Sometimes I criticise myself too much — that’s not good enough, sounds as if a monkey wrote that blindfolded and drunk on rum, my writing stinks worse than a skunk. One of the things I’m struggling with this week while writing The Forsaken (the sequel to The Hunted ) is thinking my daily word count is simply not good enough. I’m five days in and I have written a grand total of 13,520 words. Pretty good, right? But the first two days I barely wrote 2,000 words each day and was half struggling to do so. I told myself that’s not good enough because I knew I could do much better. Most days I average 3-4,000. What I’ve learnt is: with every career, even writing, there are good days and bad. You can either work through the bad days or give up. I never ever give up (maybe one of my flaws — superhuman stubbornness?) because I really love writing. Even on the bad days. Take a break if you must, but then get right back to it.
The choice is yours, of course ;-)
Remember: failure is not as big a deal as we make it out to be. Go easy on yourself if you fail. Buy yourself a cupcake and enjoy the sugar rush while it lasts.
February 2, 2014
That Novel Will Never Be Perfect ~ Guest Post by Katie Hayoz
I’m not a perfectionist. Little mistakes don’t bother me. But when it comes to my writing, I take pride in what I do and I want what I put out there to be not just decent, but good. I rewrote Untethered at least eighteen times. Literally. And I’m talking full-on, rip-it-up and make do with the shreds kind of rewriting, not moving sentences around. What started as a five page story ended up (20 years later) to be a 340 page novel. That novel went through so many critiquing sessions and beta readers that I was sure it would be perfection by the time it was published.Ha. Not quite.
Writing is art, and like all art there is a point where the person creating the work just has to stop. She just has to tell herself that particular piece is the best she can make it right then. That’s the sticker: right then. Because the truth is that you can always go back and make it better. There will always be holes you missed or mistakes you made or words that paint a clearer picture. But if you keep going back and going back and going back you never move on. Never get on to the next book; the one that first one prepared you for.
My dad paints watercolor. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s looked at a picture of his, already framed and on the wall, and said, “Why did I think this was finished? This whole section could use reworking.” My mom rolls her eyes. I understand. I totally do.
But there was a point when I just had to quit trying to make Untethered perfect. A point where my writing group and my family and friends said, “Stop already!” So I did. I’m proud of this novel -- the characters, the world, the writing itself. However, that didn’t keep me from face-palming myself after its publication. There were things that I see now that I couldn’t see then. It kills me. And yet…
And yet I could go in, change it all and six months from now I’d be face-palming myself again. So, I’ve left it as is. I’ve moved onto another novel. It’s finished; sort of. I’ve done three drafts – three pick away the fleshy parts and gnaw on the bone drafts. I’ll rewrite it one more time. Then I’ll need to tell myself, “Stop already! That novel will never be perfect.”
But I’m hoping it will be damn good.
Katie Hayoz was born in Racine, WI, USA but ended up in Geneva, Switzerland, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and two fuzzy cats. She devours YA novels like she does popcorn and black licorice: quickly and in large quantities. Untethered is a paranormal coming of age novel that follows 16-year-old Sylvie on a unique and slightly sinister journey of self-acceptance. Sylvie has an ability to leave her physical body and astral project. While it could be akin to a superpower, she sees it as a curse. That is, until the day she decides to play with its dark side. Sylvie then sets an evil plan in motion that she believes will change her life for the better. But she does not count on it spiraling out of control.
Connect With Katie On her website: www.katiehayoz.com
On Twitter: www.twitter.com/katiehayoz
On Facebook: www.facebook.com/katiehayoz.author
Buy Untethered on Amazon: http://amzn.to/ZH2qzY
(Thank you to Rave Reviews Book Club and all the members who so generously agreed to host me on their site!)
Rave Reviews Book Club Is pleased To Announce A New Facebook "Question Of The Day!" In an online Scavenger Hunt, participants will need to find the daily answer SOMEWHERE on the many Blog Tour Host sites! Please LIKE our FB page and play along:
https://www.facebook.com/ pages/Rave-Reviews-Book-Club/ 271290866357000?fref=ts
Katie's questions & answers on THIS site:
Rave Reviews Book Club: Who influences you the most?
Katie Hayoz: Though I write nothing like her (I wish I did!), Margaret Atwood influences me the most.
RRBC: What is your favorite theme/genre to write?
K.H.: Paranormal young adult. It's just plain fun.
THANK YOU for stopping by! Please visit all Blog Tour Hosts as found on:
www.RaveReviewsByNonnieJules.wordpress.com
January 31, 2014
Writing Jitters
Ah, February! I think you might be my favourite month! But then, maybe that’s because I picked your 28 days to write in … so you’re my temporary favourite.
Just one more month of summer to go (in Australia) and I am jumping for joy. I really don’t want any more 42°C days, but who knows?
So, what am I writing this month? I happen to be finishing the sequel to The Hunted , called The Forsaken (which I half-wrote in NaNoWriMo after I completed The Hunted two weeks early!!). And I am very excited and NERVOUS because it’s also the last book for these characters. I’m always nervous before I start writing, thinking, What if it all goes horribly? What if I can’t write a DAMN WORD?? I think it’s normal? Maybe. Well, for me it is. But once I start typing, all these worries disappear. Like magic!
Do you have a bad case of the nerves before you start writing?
Just one more month of summer to go (in Australia) and I am jumping for joy. I really don’t want any more 42°C days, but who knows?
So, what am I writing this month? I happen to be finishing the sequel to The Hunted , called The Forsaken (which I half-wrote in NaNoWriMo after I completed The Hunted two weeks early!!). And I am very excited and NERVOUS because it’s also the last book for these characters. I’m always nervous before I start writing, thinking, What if it all goes horribly? What if I can’t write a DAMN WORD?? I think it’s normal? Maybe. Well, for me it is. But once I start typing, all these worries disappear. Like magic!
Do you have a bad case of the nerves before you start writing?
