Amanda Dick's Blog, page 2
May 25, 2014
Release Week Jitters
It's that time again. Release week.
"Between Before and After" is finally ready to face the world. One week today, and she will no longer be mine, but yours. Be gentle, dear ones. Treat her carefully, for she contains many hours of work and immeasurable chunks of my heart, soul and memories.
I've barely slept the past week, since I sent a bunch of ARC (Advanced Reader Copies) out to bloggers, support people and others who might help me to spread the word. It's a nerve-wracking time. A thousand questions plague me.
Will she be well-received? Will the characters be gripping enough? Will the plot twists and turns make sense and keep you all engaged? Will certain plot points seem real enough to provide the reader with the same deep sense of panic and fear that they gave me when I wrote them? Will writing in my native Kiwi tongue make sense to those outside of New Zealand?
*le sigh*
These are all valid questions, believe me. I suppose the answers will come via the reviews, when they begin to come in. Until then, all I can do is try to convince myself that I did all I can. And try to get some sleep.
2nd June will be here before you know it...
Read the synopsis and find the pre-order links on my website.Ebook available via Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Smashwords and Kobo from 2 June 2014.
~Amanda
"Between Before and After" is finally ready to face the world. One week today, and she will no longer be mine, but yours. Be gentle, dear ones. Treat her carefully, for she contains many hours of work and immeasurable chunks of my heart, soul and memories.
I've barely slept the past week, since I sent a bunch of ARC (Advanced Reader Copies) out to bloggers, support people and others who might help me to spread the word. It's a nerve-wracking time. A thousand questions plague me.
Will she be well-received? Will the characters be gripping enough? Will the plot twists and turns make sense and keep you all engaged? Will certain plot points seem real enough to provide the reader with the same deep sense of panic and fear that they gave me when I wrote them? Will writing in my native Kiwi tongue make sense to those outside of New Zealand?
*le sigh*
These are all valid questions, believe me. I suppose the answers will come via the reviews, when they begin to come in. Until then, all I can do is try to convince myself that I did all I can. And try to get some sleep.
2nd June will be here before you know it...
Read the synopsis and find the pre-order links on my website.Ebook available via Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Smashwords and Kobo from 2 June 2014.
~Amanda
May 12, 2014
Cover Reveal - Between Before and After
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Danny Morris left behind a gun, a tonne of questions and a big hole in the lives of those he loved. What he didn’t leave was a suicide note.
That was three years ago and on the anniversary of his death, his friends mark his passing by gathering at his parents’ beach house in New Zealand's gorgeous Marlborough Sounds. Danny’s decision may have seemed like the easy way out for him, but there is no doubt about the wreckage he left behind.
Danny's girlfriend, Kate, holds onto his memory by continuing to live in the house they shared. Desperate to move on with her life, the need to understand why he shut her out holds her back. Her blossoming feelings for Danny’s best friend, Finn, only complicate matters.
Finding Danny’s body has impacted on Max in ways no one could ever have imagined. Withdrawing from his high-flying lifestyle, he has carved out a much simpler life, moving from town to town as he tries to run from the nightmares he refuses to talk about. A new development, self-medicating with alcohol has him sailing dangerously close to the edge.
Finn is finally ready to admit how he feels about Kate, but the ghost of her relationship with Danny continues to haunt them both. Desperately trying to save Max from himself dredges up long-buried anger and frustration at the situation they now find themselves in.
Friendship. The word itself conjures up images of trust and love. But what happens when that trust is broken and that love is thrown back in your face?
Five friends. Three days. One shocking discovery that will shake them to the very core.
This year, everything will change.
***
Prologue
The single gunshot sounded like a firecracker. Short, sharp, loud. What followed was a buzzing echo, a kind of post-event hum that seemed to fill the air for several seconds, before it too dwindled away to nothing. The sound was completely out of place in the suburban Auckland street. Two young boys playing in the back yard of the house across the road stopped in their tracks, their smiles frozen.
“Double happys,” one said to the other, his grin widening. “Lucky. It’s not Guy Fawkes for ages yet.”
“Do you think that was Caleb’s house? We should go and see – he might have more!”
The twinkle in his eye told of the hunt for mischief, but the other boy – more sensible - shook his head.
“Mum said we weren’t allowed to go over there today.”
Deflated, his friend backed down. They resumed their play, chasing each other through the sprinkler that fanned cool water out in a wide arc across the lawn.
Inside, the boy’s mother stopped loading up the dishwasher and peered out the kitchen window. Seeing nothing out of place, she quickly dismissed it.
The birdsong resumed and the sun continued to shine. Summer afternoons had a habit of minimalising things. Nothing could be wrong on a day like this, surely?
Two doors down from the white Victorian villa with the overgrown garden and rickety white picket fence, more children played on the grass verge. They chased each other on their bikes, up and down the footpath, dodging the mature trees planted along the berm. A young couple walked down the opposite side of the street, hand in hand, enjoying the sunshine. A car crawled slowly past before stopping at the intersection on the corner. It waited for a break in the traffic, indicator blinking lazily.
At number forty two, time had stopped. The large, rented villa with the veranda that wrapped itself around the front and one side of the house, looked just the same as always. Except inside, Danny Morris lay on the floor in the living room. His eyes were wide open but devoid of life, and a pool of dark, sticky blood seeped through the worn carpet beneath his head. A gun lay on the floor beside him, his open hand reaching for it, even in death, as if it would solve all his problems.
The decision to end his own life hadn’t been made lightly. The preceding months had seen him spiral down into a depression that he was ill-equipped to handle. A dark fog had descended over him, swallowing him up. Every breath felt as if he was inhaling sand. He was suffocating. He had withdrawn from his friends and family, both afraid they could see it, and convinced they were unable to help him fight it. No one could help him. The darkness that crawled over his soul and dug its hooks into his heart would not release him. He could feel it gaining power. He craved an end to the hopelessness.
The gun had only been in his possession for a couple of days, hidden from sight but ever-present in his mind. He had mulled over his options carefully. Pills were too slow – it was too risky, someone might find him. Slicing his wrists was out for the same reason, as was hanging himself or gassing himself in his car. He didn’t want to have to explain this to anyone – he didn’t think he was capable of it. Explaining required a basic understanding, and he didn’t have that. What he did have was an overwhelming desire for the pain to end.
He had chosen a gun as his weapon of choice for the simple reason that once he pulled that trigger, it was done. There was no changing his mind, no last-minute rescue, no way of stopping the train once it had left the station. No way back.
Quick, painless, final. The perfect solution.
And yet, for all his meticulous planning, he could not have foreseen the one thing that had been completely out of his control. As his finger was poised on the trigger, sweaty and trembling, a face appeared at the window. In that split second between the trigger being fully depressed and the bullet entering his body, their eyes met.And then it was over.
***
Add to your TBR on GoodreadsRelease date: early June 2014Follow my Facebook page for all the details!
Please help me spread the news by sharing on your Facebook page, your blog or wherever you talk to your friends. Thanks so much :)
I'd love to hear your thoughts on the cover, too!
~Amanda
April 17, 2014
"Between Before and After" - Teaser
As we get closer and closer to the release date for "Between Before and After" (scheduled for June now, if you missed it), I thought I'd share a teaser with you. Keep in mind this is an un-edited teaser! It's from chapter one. Feedback welcome - hope everyone is looking forward to reading this story as much as I'm looking forward to sharing it with you :)
BETWEEN BEFORE AND AFTER
by Amanda Dick
**Un-edited Teaser**
"The three hour ferry ride across the Cook Strait from Wellington had been fairly smooth, as far as sailings go. Max Lonergan had certainly experienced worse in the almost ten years he had been making this journey. He had spent the time sitting as far away from the many cafes and eateries as possible, trying to distract himself by watching the horizon and reading the newspaper. He couldn’t remember the last time he had read the paper. The big wide world didn’t interest him anymore. Over the past three years, he had withdrawn from it, slowly and surely. The withdrawal was so complete, he didn’t even miss it now. Not the rush-hour traffic or the deadlines, not the planning for upcoming holidays or the latest cellphone, not even the Friday night drinks or the messy weekends that inevitably followed. No more kissing up to his boss, no more schmoozing the secretaries. Now he was on his own schedule. Gone were the suit and tie with matching expensive leather loafers. His corporate attire these days consisted of jeans, work boots, bush-shirts and hi-visibility jackets. Instead of drinks in the boardroom or a swanky cocktail bar, he had drinks in the shearing shed or leaning on the back of the supervisor’s truck. Over the past three years, his whole life had changed. He had changed. His priorities had shifted, his outlook on life had skewed, tilted sideways. The death of someone close to you had a habit of making you reassess how you spent your remaining days on this earth. Just as he remembered, the paper was full of bad news. Disgusted, he folded it up and set it aside. He ran a hand through his brown hair, roughing it up so that it stood on end just a little bit more. He was overdue for a haircut. His usual short-back-and-sides had somehow morphed into a shaggy, wavy mass. Any kind of length just seemed to add volume. Somehow, over the last few months, a haircut had slipped through the cracks.The smell of food turned his stomach, and he concentrated on his black coffee instead. Luckily for him, breakfast had never been a necessity. He was used to being up this early, having done a variety of short-term jobs that had altered his body-clock. Sheep shearing, forestry work, fruit picking, kiwifruit pack-houses – all ran on a different schedule to the office-bound nine-to-fivers. That was one of the reasons he had chosen to take the early run, the first ferry bound for Picton. It suited him. A shaft of guilt stung him momentarily. Maybe he should have contacted Kate to find out what ferry she had booked on. If she was flying down from Auckland to catch the afternoon sailing she usually favoured, he didn’t want to be in the position of having to kill time in Wellington waiting for her. Cities were most definitely not within his comfort-zone – not anymore. It was true what they said about feeling lonelier in a crowd.He had meant to call her and touch base. Hell, he had meant to call all of them, but somehow it always kept falling to the bottom of his To Do list. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure until the day before yesterday that he was going to come this year. Each anniversary seemed to get harder, not easier. With the way he was feeling lately, he had purposefully kept away from everyone, telling himself he wouldn’t be good company. Yet here he was, bobbing up and down in the Cook Strait, in limbo between islands like some kind of metaphor.His regular life – the one he lived daily – was mostly solitary, and he liked it that way. His old life, the one he had left behind along with the suits and swanky bars, also held his friends. They were the people he loved most in this world and for them, for three days, in exchange for that sense of belonging, he could pretend to be whole."
Hope you enjoyed the glimpse - feel free to share this post!
Amanda
BETWEEN BEFORE AND AFTER
by Amanda Dick
**Un-edited Teaser**
"The three hour ferry ride across the Cook Strait from Wellington had been fairly smooth, as far as sailings go. Max Lonergan had certainly experienced worse in the almost ten years he had been making this journey. He had spent the time sitting as far away from the many cafes and eateries as possible, trying to distract himself by watching the horizon and reading the newspaper. He couldn’t remember the last time he had read the paper. The big wide world didn’t interest him anymore. Over the past three years, he had withdrawn from it, slowly and surely. The withdrawal was so complete, he didn’t even miss it now. Not the rush-hour traffic or the deadlines, not the planning for upcoming holidays or the latest cellphone, not even the Friday night drinks or the messy weekends that inevitably followed. No more kissing up to his boss, no more schmoozing the secretaries. Now he was on his own schedule. Gone were the suit and tie with matching expensive leather loafers. His corporate attire these days consisted of jeans, work boots, bush-shirts and hi-visibility jackets. Instead of drinks in the boardroom or a swanky cocktail bar, he had drinks in the shearing shed or leaning on the back of the supervisor’s truck. Over the past three years, his whole life had changed. He had changed. His priorities had shifted, his outlook on life had skewed, tilted sideways. The death of someone close to you had a habit of making you reassess how you spent your remaining days on this earth. Just as he remembered, the paper was full of bad news. Disgusted, he folded it up and set it aside. He ran a hand through his brown hair, roughing it up so that it stood on end just a little bit more. He was overdue for a haircut. His usual short-back-and-sides had somehow morphed into a shaggy, wavy mass. Any kind of length just seemed to add volume. Somehow, over the last few months, a haircut had slipped through the cracks.The smell of food turned his stomach, and he concentrated on his black coffee instead. Luckily for him, breakfast had never been a necessity. He was used to being up this early, having done a variety of short-term jobs that had altered his body-clock. Sheep shearing, forestry work, fruit picking, kiwifruit pack-houses – all ran on a different schedule to the office-bound nine-to-fivers. That was one of the reasons he had chosen to take the early run, the first ferry bound for Picton. It suited him. A shaft of guilt stung him momentarily. Maybe he should have contacted Kate to find out what ferry she had booked on. If she was flying down from Auckland to catch the afternoon sailing she usually favoured, he didn’t want to be in the position of having to kill time in Wellington waiting for her. Cities were most definitely not within his comfort-zone – not anymore. It was true what they said about feeling lonelier in a crowd.He had meant to call her and touch base. Hell, he had meant to call all of them, but somehow it always kept falling to the bottom of his To Do list. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure until the day before yesterday that he was going to come this year. Each anniversary seemed to get harder, not easier. With the way he was feeling lately, he had purposefully kept away from everyone, telling himself he wouldn’t be good company. Yet here he was, bobbing up and down in the Cook Strait, in limbo between islands like some kind of metaphor.His regular life – the one he lived daily – was mostly solitary, and he liked it that way. His old life, the one he had left behind along with the suits and swanky bars, also held his friends. They were the people he loved most in this world and for them, for three days, in exchange for that sense of belonging, he could pretend to be whole."
Hope you enjoyed the glimpse - feel free to share this post!
Amanda
April 10, 2014
The Birthing Process
Wow, time flies! Let's see if I can fill you in on what's been happening since I was last here. Well, a lot, to be honest. Most notably, I have been writing/revising/editing (those lines always seem to blur for me) a hell of a lot over the past month. So much so, that I'm nearly at the end of my first major revision/edit of "Between Before and After". Woot! I have about 10,000 words to write, then I'm ready to go back to the beginning and tighten it up, getting it ready for it's visit to my editor in early May.
That means I've been pulling some long hours again. Last night, I got to bed around 1am and I just could NOT sleep. My brain was wide awake, even though my body was exhausted. I am *this* close to finishing this part of the process, and it's exhilarating! As I lay there, counting sheep, I mulled over this journey.
It's very like birthing a baby, this writing business. You can feel this baby/book inside of you and you develop a bond with it, nurture it, love it. You imagine a world where this baby/book is out there, making it's way. You hope it's way will be an easy one, but deep down you suspect it might not be. It doesn't matter. You don't love it any less. If anything, you love it more.
I vividly remember thinking, when I was about six months pregnant with both my kids, that I would miss them when they were born. I would miss that bond, the thing that only the baby and I shared. We had been through so much together (neither pregnancy was easy) and I'd come to rely on feeling it kicking inside me. It let me know that it was hanging in there with me. That it would all be worth it in the end. That I wasn't alone. With my first pregnancy, I expected to feel a sense of loss when the baby came - an emptiness. By the time my second baby came along, I knew better.
There was no hole inside of me. I was so busy getting to know this little person for real, I had no thoughts of loss or emptiness. I just had a bundle of baby goodness in my arms, and a life that was about to get a whole hell of a lot busier and fuller than I could ever have imagined.
Writing a book has many similarities. I got that initial glow, followed by the sickness and sinking feeling (am I ever going to be able to do this story justice?). I also got three quarters of the way through the first edit and realised that I was going to miss these characters when I was done. I began holding on to them tighter, getting less frequent with the teaser excerpts I was sharing, for fear of giving anything away. Now that the release date is so close, I'm reluctant to part with it. I'm not sure I'm ready. I need more time. It's only perfect in my head if I'm the only one who sees it. Once it's out there, in the world, people will be free to rip it apart and I'm not sure I can handle that just yet.
I know I'll get braver. I know, because I've done it once before. I can do this again.
Sometimes, I even look forward to it.
That means I've been pulling some long hours again. Last night, I got to bed around 1am and I just could NOT sleep. My brain was wide awake, even though my body was exhausted. I am *this* close to finishing this part of the process, and it's exhilarating! As I lay there, counting sheep, I mulled over this journey.
It's very like birthing a baby, this writing business. You can feel this baby/book inside of you and you develop a bond with it, nurture it, love it. You imagine a world where this baby/book is out there, making it's way. You hope it's way will be an easy one, but deep down you suspect it might not be. It doesn't matter. You don't love it any less. If anything, you love it more.
I vividly remember thinking, when I was about six months pregnant with both my kids, that I would miss them when they were born. I would miss that bond, the thing that only the baby and I shared. We had been through so much together (neither pregnancy was easy) and I'd come to rely on feeling it kicking inside me. It let me know that it was hanging in there with me. That it would all be worth it in the end. That I wasn't alone. With my first pregnancy, I expected to feel a sense of loss when the baby came - an emptiness. By the time my second baby came along, I knew better.
There was no hole inside of me. I was so busy getting to know this little person for real, I had no thoughts of loss or emptiness. I just had a bundle of baby goodness in my arms, and a life that was about to get a whole hell of a lot busier and fuller than I could ever have imagined.
Writing a book has many similarities. I got that initial glow, followed by the sickness and sinking feeling (am I ever going to be able to do this story justice?). I also got three quarters of the way through the first edit and realised that I was going to miss these characters when I was done. I began holding on to them tighter, getting less frequent with the teaser excerpts I was sharing, for fear of giving anything away. Now that the release date is so close, I'm reluctant to part with it. I'm not sure I'm ready. I need more time. It's only perfect in my head if I'm the only one who sees it. Once it's out there, in the world, people will be free to rip it apart and I'm not sure I can handle that just yet.
I know I'll get braver. I know, because I've done it once before. I can do this again.
Sometimes, I even look forward to it.
January 12, 2014
Procrastination Level: Expert
I had promised myself that this week I would concentrate on getting back to editing "Between Before and After". Ha!
Short version: I didn't do any editing.
Excuses given (in no particular order):
- I had family visiting (my cousin was here this week and we catch up in person all too rarely, so I attached myself to her like a limpet. I'm sure she loved it).
- I started back at work (day job) this week after having two weeks holiday.
- I began to panic about the lack of reviews "Absolution" had received and resolved to fix that forthwith, by approaching a hand-picked (after many hours trawling online) select few bloggers and asking them if they would like to be involved in my (somewhat slapdash) marketing plan. (Footnote: many of them jumped at the chance *insert goofy grin here*).
- The above took several hours (SEVERAL HOURS!) resulting in more than one 2am bedtime.
- It was hot. And cold. But not simultaneously. Come on Mother Nature, sort your shiznizzle out, please!
I did, however, manage to...
Edit this lovely photo I took of Oriental Bay when we were holidaying with friends in Wellington over New Years. (The friends in question are the people you see in the photo - hi guys!). I was going for the vintage postcard feel. What do you think?
And I took this photo too - the view from my writing desk while I procrastinated (does that count as multi-tasking?).
I also finished beading this necklace, featuring a removable bookmark that's interchangeable with another pendant (that's book-related right? Right?).
Surely that counts for something...?
~Amanda
Short version: I didn't do any editing.
Excuses given (in no particular order):
- I had family visiting (my cousin was here this week and we catch up in person all too rarely, so I attached myself to her like a limpet. I'm sure she loved it).
- I started back at work (day job) this week after having two weeks holiday.
- I began to panic about the lack of reviews "Absolution" had received and resolved to fix that forthwith, by approaching a hand-picked (after many hours trawling online) select few bloggers and asking them if they would like to be involved in my (somewhat slapdash) marketing plan. (Footnote: many of them jumped at the chance *insert goofy grin here*).
- The above took several hours (SEVERAL HOURS!) resulting in more than one 2am bedtime.
- It was hot. And cold. But not simultaneously. Come on Mother Nature, sort your shiznizzle out, please!
I did, however, manage to...
Edit this lovely photo I took of Oriental Bay when we were holidaying with friends in Wellington over New Years. (The friends in question are the people you see in the photo - hi guys!). I was going for the vintage postcard feel. What do you think?
.jpg)
And I took this photo too - the view from my writing desk while I procrastinated (does that count as multi-tasking?).
I also finished beading this necklace, featuring a removable bookmark that's interchangeable with another pendant (that's book-related right? Right?).
Surely that counts for something...?
~Amanda
January 10, 2014
Win a free ecopy of "Absolution"!
I'm having a giveaway over on my Facebook page - one of two free ecopies of "Absolution" up for grabs!Enter via the mobile-friendly link below - good luck! :)
http://tinyurl.com/lw3owaq
January 8, 2014
2014: Come On Down!
I don't often do movie reviews. In fact, my usual patter is to gab about it to friends but I thought this time I'd do things a little differently.
I watched "The Great Gatsby" over the holidays, with a friend. Both of us were curious and had heard great things, but hadn't yet seen it. We left the boys to their Ten Pin Bowling, settled the kiddlies down to sleep and parked up in front of the telly to watch, sans interruptions.
Firstly, let me just say that it was a beautifully shot movie - definitely a spectacle to behold. I liked that about it. And I hated that about it, in equal measures. Because when you drill right down to it, "The Great Gatsby" is a tragedy. Love gone wrong, sour, bad. A wasted life, a wasted love. But because the movie was so gorgeous to look at, it really detracted from that. I wasn't so much heartbroken at the end of it, as sad. It could have been so much more. It seemed to lack soul. The visuals definitely overpowered the story itself, which was dark and deep and desperate. The overall impression it left on me was: disappointing.
The performances were wonderful - particularly Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire. DiCaprio's lightning fast switch between the rich playboy with swagger, to the vulnerable (almost childlike) young ex-soldier waiting to meet the love of his life after five years, was brilliance. It actually made me do a double-take. Only certain actors would be able to pull that off. Maguire's Nick was affable and enjoyable to watch - he made the perfect narrator. The supporting cast did a great job.
But for me, it's always about the story, and something tells me that Mr Fitzgerald would not have been happy with Mr Luhrmann's treatment of it. It's a shame, it really is. Hopefully, somewhere down the road, someone else will remake the story and bring it to life more - give it the heart it lacked in this version, because it was certainly there to begin with. I think it somehow just got lost among the sets and the lighting and the jewellery and the costumes. I haven't seen the Mia Farrow/Robert Redford version, but I now have a hankering to. Must track that down and watch it, to see how it compares.
What seeing this movie did do for me though, was re-ignite that desire to read the story. So, that's something. No Kindle version for me though - this time I want a second-hand, hardback copy - for my bookshelf. Because I'm a nerd like that.
Oh - and happy new year, too! I don't do new years resolutions (never saw the point - when I want to make changes in my life, I make them - I don't wait until the beginning of January to do it). But I have broken the habit of a lifetime this year and have vowed to have "Between Before and After" finished and published in 2014. I expect you to hold me to it! Well, someone has to.
Did you make any resolutions this year? What did you think of "The Great Gatsby"?
~Amanda
I watched "The Great Gatsby" over the holidays, with a friend. Both of us were curious and had heard great things, but hadn't yet seen it. We left the boys to their Ten Pin Bowling, settled the kiddlies down to sleep and parked up in front of the telly to watch, sans interruptions.
Firstly, let me just say that it was a beautifully shot movie - definitely a spectacle to behold. I liked that about it. And I hated that about it, in equal measures. Because when you drill right down to it, "The Great Gatsby" is a tragedy. Love gone wrong, sour, bad. A wasted life, a wasted love. But because the movie was so gorgeous to look at, it really detracted from that. I wasn't so much heartbroken at the end of it, as sad. It could have been so much more. It seemed to lack soul. The visuals definitely overpowered the story itself, which was dark and deep and desperate. The overall impression it left on me was: disappointing.
The performances were wonderful - particularly Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire. DiCaprio's lightning fast switch between the rich playboy with swagger, to the vulnerable (almost childlike) young ex-soldier waiting to meet the love of his life after five years, was brilliance. It actually made me do a double-take. Only certain actors would be able to pull that off. Maguire's Nick was affable and enjoyable to watch - he made the perfect narrator. The supporting cast did a great job.
But for me, it's always about the story, and something tells me that Mr Fitzgerald would not have been happy with Mr Luhrmann's treatment of it. It's a shame, it really is. Hopefully, somewhere down the road, someone else will remake the story and bring it to life more - give it the heart it lacked in this version, because it was certainly there to begin with. I think it somehow just got lost among the sets and the lighting and the jewellery and the costumes. I haven't seen the Mia Farrow/Robert Redford version, but I now have a hankering to. Must track that down and watch it, to see how it compares.
What seeing this movie did do for me though, was re-ignite that desire to read the story. So, that's something. No Kindle version for me though - this time I want a second-hand, hardback copy - for my bookshelf. Because I'm a nerd like that.
Oh - and happy new year, too! I don't do new years resolutions (never saw the point - when I want to make changes in my life, I make them - I don't wait until the beginning of January to do it). But I have broken the habit of a lifetime this year and have vowed to have "Between Before and After" finished and published in 2014. I expect you to hold me to it! Well, someone has to.
Did you make any resolutions this year? What did you think of "The Great Gatsby"?
~Amanda
December 16, 2013
Gifts from Hell
With Christmas coming up, gifts are never far from my mind. I was telling my husband this story recently, and thought I'd share it with you.
When I was 13-14 years old, I was at a sleepover at my best friend's house. As girls of that age do, I was rolling around on her bedroom floor, laughing my head off at something, when I spotted an album hidden behind her dresser. When I made a grab for it, she was very embarrassed. I, however, thought it was even more hysterically funny.
The album was a Leo Sayer one. Not cool, not even in the mid-80's (the New Romantics era - if this doesn't make any sense to you, Google it. If nothing else, it'll give you a laugh). She refused to say where the album had come from but I can guess why it was hidden. She was the epitome of cool (at least, to me), so I'm not surprised she had a burning desire to hide it from the world.
As it happens, our birthdays were nine days apart. Mine came first. When it came around, six months later, I had forgotten all about the Leo Sayer album. Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped the album as my birthday gift!
After laughing hysterically (yet again), I carefully put it away. When her birthday came around nine days later, I re-wrapped it and gave it back to her.
So began a gift-swap that lasted a few years. I don't know who ended up with it it in the end - pretty sure it wasn't me.
I wonder if she still has it?
Do you have any gifts-from-hell stories you care to share? I'd love to hear them!
~ Amanda
When I was 13-14 years old, I was at a sleepover at my best friend's house. As girls of that age do, I was rolling around on her bedroom floor, laughing my head off at something, when I spotted an album hidden behind her dresser. When I made a grab for it, she was very embarrassed. I, however, thought it was even more hysterically funny.
The album was a Leo Sayer one. Not cool, not even in the mid-80's (the New Romantics era - if this doesn't make any sense to you, Google it. If nothing else, it'll give you a laugh). She refused to say where the album had come from but I can guess why it was hidden. She was the epitome of cool (at least, to me), so I'm not surprised she had a burning desire to hide it from the world.
As it happens, our birthdays were nine days apart. Mine came first. When it came around, six months later, I had forgotten all about the Leo Sayer album. Imagine my surprise when I unwrapped the album as my birthday gift!
After laughing hysterically (yet again), I carefully put it away. When her birthday came around nine days later, I re-wrapped it and gave it back to her.
So began a gift-swap that lasted a few years. I don't know who ended up with it it in the end - pretty sure it wasn't me.
I wonder if she still has it?
Do you have any gifts-from-hell stories you care to share? I'd love to hear them!
~ Amanda
December 10, 2013
"Between Before and After" - Teaser One
Thanks to those who voted on my
Facebook page
, here's a teaser from "Between Before and After" for you. If you missed the synopsis for this, my next book, you can catch it here.
As always, I'd love to hear your feedback (either here or over on my Facebook page). Keep in mind that this is an unedited teaser as the manuscript is still in Editing Mode - it may change yet.
Enjoy (if that's even the right word!).
~ Amanda
BETWEEN BEFORE AND AFTER
DUE FOR RELEASE: 2014
TEASER (unedited version, subject to change)
Max sat on the edge of the small wooden dinghy that was dry-docked in the boat house and stared out across the water. The bay was still, the water not even lapping the shoreline anymore. It was crystal-clear, the mountains on the opposite shore reflected in it. In stark contrast to the peace and tranquillity around him, his mind whirled so much he could barely think straight. The air was thick with the sound of chirping cicadas and it felt like he was hanging onto the last threads of sanity with only one hand, fighting off the incessant cicadas with the other.
He could feel them watching him up at the house. He knew they meant well, but it was nobody’s business how many beers he had or how fast he drank them. A sense of entitlement bolstered him. He took a mouthful from the bottle of beer in his hand, as if proving a point. Shuddering in the afternoon heat, goose bumps rose on his skin. He was hoping the peace and tranquillity of the water’s edge would somehow make things better.
He tried to recall Danny’s face. He tried to remember the sound of his laughter. He fought to remember the simple things but it all seemed hazy and unclear now. The only thing he could recall in crystal clarity was the blood. So much blood. Not red and clear, like in the movies, but dark and sticky.
Breathing heavily, he hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The edge of the wooden dinghy he was sitting on became hard and uncomfortable as he picked at the label on his beer bottle.
"Hey.”
Max almost jumped. He rolled his eyes and shook his head as Gavin peered around the boat house doors that he had pegged open to catch the most of the view.
“Man – you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry.” Gavin shrugged apologetically and walked into the darkened boat house, thick with the stench of damp, settling himself beside Max.
They sat in silence for several uncomfortable minutes.
“I keep forgetting how quiet it is out here.” Gavin mumbled after a while.
“Yeah, if you can get past those bloody cicadas.” Max mumbled, his eyes scanning the horizon as he took another long swallow from his bottle.
“Noisy little buggers.”
They sat awhile longer, the afternoon heat gathering around them, stifling them.
“You think we might take the boat out later? Think it’s still watertight?” Gavin asked suddenly, turning around to scan the boat suspiciously.
Max shrugged, glancing behind him.
“Yeah, maybe. Who knows.”
The silence settled over them once again.
“Here’s the thing - we’re worried about you, dude. Lacey sent me out here to check up on you – she told me to be discreet but I don’t really do discreet, shocker, I know.” Gavin said simply. “So how are you – really? Because you look like crap.”
Max gazed out over the water, sighing. He didn’t even bother to lie and tell him that he was fine. There didn’t seem to be much point.
“Did you ever, y’know, wonder what Danny was thinking about, the second before he pulled the trigger?”
The silence hung between them like a shroud and time stopped for a moment. Even the cicadas seemed to hush.
“Honestly? Yeah. I used to think about it a lot.” Gavin said finally, his voice barely audible.
Max nodded solemnly, glancing around at him. “And?” he prompted, when no further details were forthcoming.
Gavin shrugged. “And, I don’t know - I don’t have a clue.” He paused for a moment, breathing out heavily. “Honestly, I’m not sure I even want to know anymore.”
Max nodded. He understood the sentiment, but somewhere deep inside him, he had really wanted Gavin to say something else. Something reassuring. Something that he could live with.
“I just wish he’d told someone.” Gavin continued quietly. “That might’ve made a difference. Maybe we could’ve helped.”
They sat looking out over the bay as the late afternoon sunlight caught the water, making it sparkle like diamonds bobbing in the deep.
“He didn’t want help.” Max said quietly.
He could feel Gavin’s eyes on him, digging deep inside his brain, trying to dredge up the images from that day.
They’re right there, he said to himself. Right in front of you. Help yourself.
His hands trembling now, he took another long swallow of beer, trying not to choke on it as the memory of that day lodged in his throat.
As always, I'd love to hear your feedback (either here or over on my Facebook page). Keep in mind that this is an unedited teaser as the manuscript is still in Editing Mode - it may change yet.
Enjoy (if that's even the right word!).
~ Amanda
BETWEEN BEFORE AND AFTER
DUE FOR RELEASE: 2014
TEASER (unedited version, subject to change)
Max sat on the edge of the small wooden dinghy that was dry-docked in the boat house and stared out across the water. The bay was still, the water not even lapping the shoreline anymore. It was crystal-clear, the mountains on the opposite shore reflected in it. In stark contrast to the peace and tranquillity around him, his mind whirled so much he could barely think straight. The air was thick with the sound of chirping cicadas and it felt like he was hanging onto the last threads of sanity with only one hand, fighting off the incessant cicadas with the other.
He could feel them watching him up at the house. He knew they meant well, but it was nobody’s business how many beers he had or how fast he drank them. A sense of entitlement bolstered him. He took a mouthful from the bottle of beer in his hand, as if proving a point. Shuddering in the afternoon heat, goose bumps rose on his skin. He was hoping the peace and tranquillity of the water’s edge would somehow make things better.
He tried to recall Danny’s face. He tried to remember the sound of his laughter. He fought to remember the simple things but it all seemed hazy and unclear now. The only thing he could recall in crystal clarity was the blood. So much blood. Not red and clear, like in the movies, but dark and sticky.
Breathing heavily, he hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The edge of the wooden dinghy he was sitting on became hard and uncomfortable as he picked at the label on his beer bottle.
"Hey.”
Max almost jumped. He rolled his eyes and shook his head as Gavin peered around the boat house doors that he had pegged open to catch the most of the view.
“Man – you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry.” Gavin shrugged apologetically and walked into the darkened boat house, thick with the stench of damp, settling himself beside Max.
They sat in silence for several uncomfortable minutes.
“I keep forgetting how quiet it is out here.” Gavin mumbled after a while.
“Yeah, if you can get past those bloody cicadas.” Max mumbled, his eyes scanning the horizon as he took another long swallow from his bottle.
“Noisy little buggers.”
They sat awhile longer, the afternoon heat gathering around them, stifling them.
“You think we might take the boat out later? Think it’s still watertight?” Gavin asked suddenly, turning around to scan the boat suspiciously.
Max shrugged, glancing behind him.
“Yeah, maybe. Who knows.”
The silence settled over them once again.
“Here’s the thing - we’re worried about you, dude. Lacey sent me out here to check up on you – she told me to be discreet but I don’t really do discreet, shocker, I know.” Gavin said simply. “So how are you – really? Because you look like crap.”
Max gazed out over the water, sighing. He didn’t even bother to lie and tell him that he was fine. There didn’t seem to be much point.
“Did you ever, y’know, wonder what Danny was thinking about, the second before he pulled the trigger?”
The silence hung between them like a shroud and time stopped for a moment. Even the cicadas seemed to hush.
“Honestly? Yeah. I used to think about it a lot.” Gavin said finally, his voice barely audible.
Max nodded solemnly, glancing around at him. “And?” he prompted, when no further details were forthcoming.
Gavin shrugged. “And, I don’t know - I don’t have a clue.” He paused for a moment, breathing out heavily. “Honestly, I’m not sure I even want to know anymore.”
Max nodded. He understood the sentiment, but somewhere deep inside him, he had really wanted Gavin to say something else. Something reassuring. Something that he could live with.
“I just wish he’d told someone.” Gavin continued quietly. “That might’ve made a difference. Maybe we could’ve helped.”
They sat looking out over the bay as the late afternoon sunlight caught the water, making it sparkle like diamonds bobbing in the deep.
“He didn’t want help.” Max said quietly.
He could feel Gavin’s eyes on him, digging deep inside his brain, trying to dredge up the images from that day.
They’re right there, he said to himself. Right in front of you. Help yourself.
His hands trembling now, he took another long swallow of beer, trying not to choke on it as the memory of that day lodged in his throat.
December 1, 2013
Sharing is Caring
Writing a book is like open-heart surgery (minus the anesthetic...and the blood). You literally open your heart and pour it out onto the pages, hoping that some of what you have written will strike a chord with someone else. Someone you don't know (or possibly, someone you do, which is both better and worse), will pick this piece of yourself up and step into the world among the pages, a world you have created, and come out the other side having felt something. Preferably something good, but something at least.
It's not easy and it's not quick, either. It takes time and it takes guts - and a whole lot of effort. For as long as it takes to write the book, your mind is somewhere else. Even when you're supposed to be concentrating on [insert anything other than the book here], the characters and their story are always there, lurking, demanding attention. You learn to multi-task. You might think you're taking a break from it by going to the cinema, going for a walk, watching TV, spending time with your family, doing housework or [insert any other activity here], but deep down you realise you're kidding yourself. Your story won't allow that. Not at all.
So, when you take that giant leap and throw this lovingly hand-crafted giant piece of yourself out into the world, you hold your breath. You hope. You dream. You pray. Not for accolades or for awards, not for fame or for fortune, but just for the simplest thing: that someone will LIKE it. Even better - that someone will like it enough to want to share it with their friends. The more someones who do this, the better. The net will widen. The book will find "an audience".
Did you read "Absolution"? Did you enjoy it? If so, please share it with your friends! Let them know where they can buy it (Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kobo), ask them to pop on over to my Facebook page and say hi! Help me widen that net, just a little bit. A review at the site you purchased the book from would also be fantastic (or on my Goodreads page). That really helps - and at the moment, I need every recommendation and review I can get.
Please? I'd really appreciate it. Truly.
(And while I'm at it - thank you so much to all of those who have left reviews or let me know how much you enjoyed the book. You make my day every single time!).
~Amanda
It's not easy and it's not quick, either. It takes time and it takes guts - and a whole lot of effort. For as long as it takes to write the book, your mind is somewhere else. Even when you're supposed to be concentrating on [insert anything other than the book here], the characters and their story are always there, lurking, demanding attention. You learn to multi-task. You might think you're taking a break from it by going to the cinema, going for a walk, watching TV, spending time with your family, doing housework or [insert any other activity here], but deep down you realise you're kidding yourself. Your story won't allow that. Not at all.
So, when you take that giant leap and throw this lovingly hand-crafted giant piece of yourself out into the world, you hold your breath. You hope. You dream. You pray. Not for accolades or for awards, not for fame or for fortune, but just for the simplest thing: that someone will LIKE it. Even better - that someone will like it enough to want to share it with their friends. The more someones who do this, the better. The net will widen. The book will find "an audience".
Did you read "Absolution"? Did you enjoy it? If so, please share it with your friends! Let them know where they can buy it (Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kobo), ask them to pop on over to my Facebook page and say hi! Help me widen that net, just a little bit. A review at the site you purchased the book from would also be fantastic (or on my Goodreads page). That really helps - and at the moment, I need every recommendation and review I can get.
Please? I'd really appreciate it. Truly.
(And while I'm at it - thank you so much to all of those who have left reviews or let me know how much you enjoyed the book. You make my day every single time!).
~Amanda
