Paul G. Day's Blog, page 2
December 4, 2014
Imagine I am Famous...or NOT!
Imagine for a moment that I am not just another author. Imagine instead that I am already well known, that my books are appreciated by millions. I might have appeared on your TV screen today, having been interviewed by a famous journalist, or book critic. They might say that they enjoyed my latest book, that their children did too. They might very well heap praise on me for originality, for sticking to my unique style and not wavering, not giving in to the demands of a market already saturated and overflowing with vampire books.
On the other hand, I might be the laughing stock of publishers everywhere, seen as a deluded indie author who thinks too highly of himself and has an unrealistic view of his own worth. They might hold my book up and wave it around as an example of how not to write, of what not to write about. They might even—dare I say it—insult me personally. I might check my twitter account or my Facebook page, or for that matter my book trailers on my YouTube Channel, only to find abusive messages telling me to “go die in a hole” or “give up while I’m failing” or worse.
Then again, I will never know. Not until I step out onto the plank, close my eyes, push one foot forward and leap out into my destiny, my fate. And you’ll never know either if you don’t take the time to settle down to a good old fashioned romp of an adventure. So, what are we waiting for? I want to find out what you really think and you want to see if it was worth the trouble investing in an unknown. Let history decide if I am any good, let the world see if my words stack up. Let your heart decide if my books are worth the paper they are written on.
You might well enjoy reading an original a science fiction story about nine desperate children who find themselves alone on a Martian base, or a girl who grows up to discover she is the last remaining human, or even a simple little fairy who discovers the world outside is larger, more exotic, more dangerous and more magical than she could have ever dreamed. You may revel in the mystery of an abandoned mine and the treasures buried there, let alone the supernatural presence that exists deep inside the bowels of the mines. You may have children who could learn a lesson or two from a hapless innocent bear who finds he can do extraordinary things, or a little chicken who runs away from the farm to discover herself.
Whatever your age, or the age of your children, or their reading ability for that matter, I have a book to suit everyone. 76 reviews on Amazon, with an average of four and a half out of five cannot be wrong. And it is clear from reading them adults enjoy my books every bit as much as children.
I might be famous one day. You might well own one of my books. You will either say, “I was one of the first to buy one of his books.” Or, you might say, “Can you believe I wasted my money on this crap?” Either way, at least you took that chance. So go on…*gulp*
http://bravebearbooks.com/
On the other hand, I might be the laughing stock of publishers everywhere, seen as a deluded indie author who thinks too highly of himself and has an unrealistic view of his own worth. They might hold my book up and wave it around as an example of how not to write, of what not to write about. They might even—dare I say it—insult me personally. I might check my twitter account or my Facebook page, or for that matter my book trailers on my YouTube Channel, only to find abusive messages telling me to “go die in a hole” or “give up while I’m failing” or worse.
Then again, I will never know. Not until I step out onto the plank, close my eyes, push one foot forward and leap out into my destiny, my fate. And you’ll never know either if you don’t take the time to settle down to a good old fashioned romp of an adventure. So, what are we waiting for? I want to find out what you really think and you want to see if it was worth the trouble investing in an unknown. Let history decide if I am any good, let the world see if my words stack up. Let your heart decide if my books are worth the paper they are written on.
You might well enjoy reading an original a science fiction story about nine desperate children who find themselves alone on a Martian base, or a girl who grows up to discover she is the last remaining human, or even a simple little fairy who discovers the world outside is larger, more exotic, more dangerous and more magical than she could have ever dreamed. You may revel in the mystery of an abandoned mine and the treasures buried there, let alone the supernatural presence that exists deep inside the bowels of the mines. You may have children who could learn a lesson or two from a hapless innocent bear who finds he can do extraordinary things, or a little chicken who runs away from the farm to discover herself.
Whatever your age, or the age of your children, or their reading ability for that matter, I have a book to suit everyone. 76 reviews on Amazon, with an average of four and a half out of five cannot be wrong. And it is clear from reading them adults enjoy my books every bit as much as children.
I might be famous one day. You might well own one of my books. You will either say, “I was one of the first to buy one of his books.” Or, you might say, “Can you believe I wasted my money on this crap?” Either way, at least you took that chance. So go on…*gulp*
http://bravebearbooks.com/
December 1, 2014
No Hidden Agenda in Black Fairy
I just read an article about why parents are not buying children’s books with black characters and I have to say I am shocked and appalled. It appears that we in Western society are still governed by old prejudices and children’s literature is not immune. When I wrote The Black Fairy & The Dragonfly, I did not set out with an agenda other than to write a fantastic tale. I chose a black fairy because I wanted to make my character different, unusual and as most children’s books have fairies with light skin, I decided to do something readers would not expect.
I was not motivated by politics, nor a sense righteous indignation. I just had a simple idea to make my character shine and grow to become the hero she was always meant to be. She neither asks for, nor receives special treatment. She forgives as easily as a child has faith, in parents, in friends and in the whole world. Yet she is different, if only because she looks different. But even the other fairies come to not only accept her despite her differences, they come to love her for not what she looks like but because of the person (fairy) she is and becomes. They respect her for precisely the same reason they abandoned her out of ignorance. They even celebrate her differences, in the end not expecting or demanding she change to fit their society. Instead, they change from fearful superstition, to joyful acceptance. That’s what is central to my story, even if at the beginning I did not set out for it to happen.
I believe a story has its own life and soul and when I set out to write it, I often let it tell itself. I have an idea, a direction I want to go, but I change, I adjust as the story evolves. My only agenda is to put beautiful stories with meaning and purpose into the hands of children and young adults.
So, if you have any preconceived notion that my book is simply a PC piece of contrived nonsense, get it out of your head. Instead, accept that it will be a journey you may be apprehensive about undertaking and have faith that in the end it is quite familiar, but at the same time unique. Like the little black fairy herself, this book, my book, just wants to be loved and accepted for what it is; a simple fairy tale, beautifully told.
I was not motivated by politics, nor a sense righteous indignation. I just had a simple idea to make my character shine and grow to become the hero she was always meant to be. She neither asks for, nor receives special treatment. She forgives as easily as a child has faith, in parents, in friends and in the whole world. Yet she is different, if only because she looks different. But even the other fairies come to not only accept her despite her differences, they come to love her for not what she looks like but because of the person (fairy) she is and becomes. They respect her for precisely the same reason they abandoned her out of ignorance. They even celebrate her differences, in the end not expecting or demanding she change to fit their society. Instead, they change from fearful superstition, to joyful acceptance. That’s what is central to my story, even if at the beginning I did not set out for it to happen.
I believe a story has its own life and soul and when I set out to write it, I often let it tell itself. I have an idea, a direction I want to go, but I change, I adjust as the story evolves. My only agenda is to put beautiful stories with meaning and purpose into the hands of children and young adults.
So, if you have any preconceived notion that my book is simply a PC piece of contrived nonsense, get it out of your head. Instead, accept that it will be a journey you may be apprehensive about undertaking and have faith that in the end it is quite familiar, but at the same time unique. Like the little black fairy herself, this book, my book, just wants to be loved and accepted for what it is; a simple fairy tale, beautifully told.
November 29, 2014
An Amber Storm From Hell
(From my upcoming novel, Children of Mars)
Tennille had the rover going as fast as it could. Freddie watched the charge meter reading as it slowly fell from near full to three quarters in no time at all. There was a mighty whooshing sound from behind, distant at first, but it was quickly upon them.
“TENNILLE!”
Tennille didn’t waste time slowing down as they climbed the short embankment. They were over the other side, bouncing wildly down into the relative safety of the crater before the shock wave hit. The whooshing sound was now a violent howl as a sudden blast of dust and debris rushed overhead, an amber storm from hell. The rover shook violently and over the din, Freddie heard the screams of the children. The shockwave was followed by a mighty rumble. Freddie undid her seat belt and dived over into the back of the rover, grabbing the baby and wrenching it from the small hands of Jodi as the rover was tossed around as easily as a toy ball in the nursery. Instinctively, Freddie pulled Timmy into her body and curled up into a ball. She felt a crack as her back hit first one wall and then the other. She grimaced with pain and closed her eyes tightly. The vehicle rolled over and over, before it finally came to an abrupt halt.
She was glad when she heard crying children until through stinging eyes, she looked up to see their horrified faces, their eyes wide with fear. When she tried to move, she felt numb and her legs would not budge. Her head was pounding and she felt something warm and sticky on the side of her face. Timmy was howling, which in the circumstances was a good sign. But for the second time in her life, she was overcome with dizziness and as a collage of confused images melded together to form one incomplete picture of the story of her life, the world she knew began to fade, along with the dying sounds of crying, swept away, replaced now with an emptiness that enveloped everything. In a last stubborn effort to push back death, she caught a glimpse of an image that didn’t belong there. It found form in the shape of a ghostly blue figure, which appeared briefly at the rear window of the overturned rover and after blinking its rich dark blue eyes once, just as quickly was gone. Then she succumbed to the inevitable, as the final sounds of her world left her, along with what little light remained until nothing was left but darkness.
Tennille had the rover going as fast as it could. Freddie watched the charge meter reading as it slowly fell from near full to three quarters in no time at all. There was a mighty whooshing sound from behind, distant at first, but it was quickly upon them.
“TENNILLE!”
Tennille didn’t waste time slowing down as they climbed the short embankment. They were over the other side, bouncing wildly down into the relative safety of the crater before the shock wave hit. The whooshing sound was now a violent howl as a sudden blast of dust and debris rushed overhead, an amber storm from hell. The rover shook violently and over the din, Freddie heard the screams of the children. The shockwave was followed by a mighty rumble. Freddie undid her seat belt and dived over into the back of the rover, grabbing the baby and wrenching it from the small hands of Jodi as the rover was tossed around as easily as a toy ball in the nursery. Instinctively, Freddie pulled Timmy into her body and curled up into a ball. She felt a crack as her back hit first one wall and then the other. She grimaced with pain and closed her eyes tightly. The vehicle rolled over and over, before it finally came to an abrupt halt.
She was glad when she heard crying children until through stinging eyes, she looked up to see their horrified faces, their eyes wide with fear. When she tried to move, she felt numb and her legs would not budge. Her head was pounding and she felt something warm and sticky on the side of her face. Timmy was howling, which in the circumstances was a good sign. But for the second time in her life, she was overcome with dizziness and as a collage of confused images melded together to form one incomplete picture of the story of her life, the world she knew began to fade, along with the dying sounds of crying, swept away, replaced now with an emptiness that enveloped everything. In a last stubborn effort to push back death, she caught a glimpse of an image that didn’t belong there. It found form in the shape of a ghostly blue figure, which appeared briefly at the rear window of the overturned rover and after blinking its rich dark blue eyes once, just as quickly was gone. Then she succumbed to the inevitable, as the final sounds of her world left her, along with what little light remained until nothing was left but darkness.
November 28, 2014
New Novel Update
See where I am up to with my soon to be released novel. By all means download it and read the story so far. Just be aware it is in the process of ongoing editing and revision and will change significantly over the coming days. Read the first half of the book and let me know your thoughts.
http://bravebearbooks.com/
http://bravebearbooks.com/
November 18, 2014
New Site for Brave Bear Books
Hi all,
I just purchased a new domain name for Brave Bear Books. Please show your support by dropping by and let me know you've visited.
Thanks,
Paul G Day.
http://www.bravebearbooks.com/
I just purchased a new domain name for Brave Bear Books. Please show your support by dropping by and let me know you've visited.
Thanks,
Paul G Day.
http://www.bravebearbooks.com/
November 16, 2014
How to guarantee failure as an Author
How to guarantee failure as an Author
(Part 1)
1. Constantly doubt your own worth.
Doubt, that incessant, persistent beast which follows you around, hovering over your head like a dark cloud, threatening to burst hail down on you at any moment. Don’t look up, because you might catch a glimpse of the faces of the people around you and they will read like judgment, confirming your every fear and insecurity about who you are, what you are doing. Doubt is the brain child of fear and the servant of hesitation. It comes to you first like a tiny bacteria and burrows under your skin. Before you know it you are infected with its virulent drilling. You start to sweat. You break out in hives. Your eyes begin to blur. You itch. Your hands start shaking, so that you can no longer type, much less hold a pen in your hand. Then it has you. Doubt, it creeps in unseen, sows the first seeds, takes root in your brain, before sending its menacing, thorny branches deep into your very soul. Once it has you, you cannot shake it off. The only medicine is to stop writing. You can’t anyway. And don’t even look at the words on your page, for this hideous disease makes you imagine things, things you once dared not. “It’s no good,” it convinces you. “Why bother,” it tells you. And then, the crunch. “You may as well give up.” So you stop writing and the virus has you exactly where it wants you.
2. Constantly question the value of your work.
It’s not that you don’t trust your own judgment, it’s just that you don’t trust your own imagination. Writing is as different to reading as running is to swimming. Oh, sure, you might be heading in the same direction, but unlike running, if you stop swimming, you may well drown. If you stop when you’re swimming to consider the flaws in your own efforts, you will lose concentration and sink before you know what’s happened. If you stop too often, the exercise of treading water while you wait for inspiration makes you tired and you can easily lose strength and guess what? You sink to the bottom and drown. It’s like swimming half way across a raging river, realizing it is impossible and swimming back again. You started this journey. You had the idea. No one forced you to swim across. You may as well keep going, come hell or high water. But you stop anyway, decide it’s not worth the risk, the energy, the investment and you drown.
3. Write, publish, fail, delete, reboot.
We’ve all been on this merry-go-round. You write with a burst of passion, publish the results, only to fail (in your eyes) miserably, then (sadly in my case) delete everything; your sites, your accounts, even your work (thank the heavens for online cloud storage). Then, after a moment of regret (some times weeks or even months) you reboot and start all over again. Do you know how many times I have done this? To my shame, more than a few. I’ve lost friends over it. I’ve lost hope over it. I have even lost my way over it.
4. Sabotage your own work.
Self sabotage is the worst kind of betrayal. I don’t know why we do this. It seems to be something which is relatively unique to artists (and I include authors as artists). It’s almost as if by punishing ourselves, we are also punishing others. “I’ll teach the public to not like my books. Well, if that’s the way it is, they can’t have them, no one can.” Weird, but there it is. In the end, predictably, the only one we are actually hurting is ourselves.
5. Loathe yourself for being a self saboteur.
Just as strange is the self loathing that follows the self destruction. We hate ourselves for being weak, for letting it get to us, for blinding us to our own ridiculous, nonsensical, irrational behavior. This self hate is really quite bizarre. My friends, I have been there more often than I care to admit. Though, admitting it is getting easier, because I tend to try and laugh at myself more often these days.
6. Place too mush emphasis on the value (or lack of it) of feedback.
Feedback, reviews, comments, ratings. What a load of tripe. I am here to tell you reviews mean diddly squat now days. They used to, way back a few years ago, when self publishing was in its infancy. But these days they are missing one important ingredient: INTEGRITY. They have none. I have read reviews for books that praised it and gave it five stars when the book is absolute trash. I have read reviews that were clearly written by the author. I have seen many reviews for one book and none for any of the others and all of them have a pattern so distinguishable that a three year old would be able to tell you what it is. And where does most of the actual feedback come from? Friends, family, other authors who then want you to return the favor and as much as you tell yourself you will be objective, nobody in their right mind is going to give another author friend anything less than four stars, no matter how bad the book is. No my friends, if you want genuine, quality feedback there are only two ways you’re going to get it: From professional articles or from people you have never met who VOLUNTARILY chose to respond to your work. The rest is all BS.
In part 2 of this article, I will cover the following topics…
7. Believe the lie that Amazon are “for authors”.
8. Believe the lie that anyone is “for authors”.
9. Adhere to the popular belief that to be successful you need to be there for other authors.
10. Maintain a healthy presence on all kinds of social media.
11. Never question the perfection of your work.
12. Interpret failure (or a perception of failure) as a judgment of self.
(Part 1)
1. Constantly doubt your own worth.
Doubt, that incessant, persistent beast which follows you around, hovering over your head like a dark cloud, threatening to burst hail down on you at any moment. Don’t look up, because you might catch a glimpse of the faces of the people around you and they will read like judgment, confirming your every fear and insecurity about who you are, what you are doing. Doubt is the brain child of fear and the servant of hesitation. It comes to you first like a tiny bacteria and burrows under your skin. Before you know it you are infected with its virulent drilling. You start to sweat. You break out in hives. Your eyes begin to blur. You itch. Your hands start shaking, so that you can no longer type, much less hold a pen in your hand. Then it has you. Doubt, it creeps in unseen, sows the first seeds, takes root in your brain, before sending its menacing, thorny branches deep into your very soul. Once it has you, you cannot shake it off. The only medicine is to stop writing. You can’t anyway. And don’t even look at the words on your page, for this hideous disease makes you imagine things, things you once dared not. “It’s no good,” it convinces you. “Why bother,” it tells you. And then, the crunch. “You may as well give up.” So you stop writing and the virus has you exactly where it wants you.
2. Constantly question the value of your work.
It’s not that you don’t trust your own judgment, it’s just that you don’t trust your own imagination. Writing is as different to reading as running is to swimming. Oh, sure, you might be heading in the same direction, but unlike running, if you stop swimming, you may well drown. If you stop when you’re swimming to consider the flaws in your own efforts, you will lose concentration and sink before you know what’s happened. If you stop too often, the exercise of treading water while you wait for inspiration makes you tired and you can easily lose strength and guess what? You sink to the bottom and drown. It’s like swimming half way across a raging river, realizing it is impossible and swimming back again. You started this journey. You had the idea. No one forced you to swim across. You may as well keep going, come hell or high water. But you stop anyway, decide it’s not worth the risk, the energy, the investment and you drown.
3. Write, publish, fail, delete, reboot.
We’ve all been on this merry-go-round. You write with a burst of passion, publish the results, only to fail (in your eyes) miserably, then (sadly in my case) delete everything; your sites, your accounts, even your work (thank the heavens for online cloud storage). Then, after a moment of regret (some times weeks or even months) you reboot and start all over again. Do you know how many times I have done this? To my shame, more than a few. I’ve lost friends over it. I’ve lost hope over it. I have even lost my way over it.
4. Sabotage your own work.
Self sabotage is the worst kind of betrayal. I don’t know why we do this. It seems to be something which is relatively unique to artists (and I include authors as artists). It’s almost as if by punishing ourselves, we are also punishing others. “I’ll teach the public to not like my books. Well, if that’s the way it is, they can’t have them, no one can.” Weird, but there it is. In the end, predictably, the only one we are actually hurting is ourselves.
5. Loathe yourself for being a self saboteur.
Just as strange is the self loathing that follows the self destruction. We hate ourselves for being weak, for letting it get to us, for blinding us to our own ridiculous, nonsensical, irrational behavior. This self hate is really quite bizarre. My friends, I have been there more often than I care to admit. Though, admitting it is getting easier, because I tend to try and laugh at myself more often these days.
6. Place too mush emphasis on the value (or lack of it) of feedback.
Feedback, reviews, comments, ratings. What a load of tripe. I am here to tell you reviews mean diddly squat now days. They used to, way back a few years ago, when self publishing was in its infancy. But these days they are missing one important ingredient: INTEGRITY. They have none. I have read reviews for books that praised it and gave it five stars when the book is absolute trash. I have read reviews that were clearly written by the author. I have seen many reviews for one book and none for any of the others and all of them have a pattern so distinguishable that a three year old would be able to tell you what it is. And where does most of the actual feedback come from? Friends, family, other authors who then want you to return the favor and as much as you tell yourself you will be objective, nobody in their right mind is going to give another author friend anything less than four stars, no matter how bad the book is. No my friends, if you want genuine, quality feedback there are only two ways you’re going to get it: From professional articles or from people you have never met who VOLUNTARILY chose to respond to your work. The rest is all BS.
In part 2 of this article, I will cover the following topics…
7. Believe the lie that Amazon are “for authors”.
8. Believe the lie that anyone is “for authors”.
9. Adhere to the popular belief that to be successful you need to be there for other authors.
10. Maintain a healthy presence on all kinds of social media.
11. Never question the perfection of your work.
12. Interpret failure (or a perception of failure) as a judgment of self.
June 21, 2014
Free Your Heart
Hi friends and Fans,
Escape From The Dark Queen will free you from the typical, release you from the ordinary and transform your ideas about what a fairy tale is or ought to be. So different, so unusual, so delightful to read. The original has been enjoyed by both young and old, achieving 4.85 out of 5 on average over a dozen reviews. Why not find out for yourself. Read this sequel, then read the original. I can guarantee one thing. You have never read a story like it.
The Black Fairy and The Dragonfly: Escape From The Dark Queen
Escape From The Dark Queen will free you from the typical, release you from the ordinary and transform your ideas about what a fairy tale is or ought to be. So different, so unusual, so delightful to read. The original has been enjoyed by both young and old, achieving 4.85 out of 5 on average over a dozen reviews. Why not find out for yourself. Read this sequel, then read the original. I can guarantee one thing. You have never read a story like it.
The Black Fairy and The Dragonfly: Escape From The Dark Queen
June 20, 2014
Write Like It's The Last Year of Your Life
http://redbearbooks.wordpress.com/201...
The Black Fairy and The Dragonfly: Escape From The Dark Queen
Dear friends, fans and visitors,
Someone recently said I am prolific, meaning that I am doing lots of things all at once. There’s a good reason for this. I feel like I have little time left before I am either physically incapable or else I lose all desire. So every time I get the chance I am either writing, or writing about writing or editing or updating my various social media sites.
The truth is, time is precious. I don’t like wasting it. I am turning fifty next month and I don’t want to go into the next chapter of my life, having wasted a single moment to be creative. You see, my eyesight is failing, I’m losing my hearing, I now have arthritis developing in my hands and feet. My body won’t behave itself and I get tired easily, yet I wake up far too early (4am this morning). So as a consequence I am going to bed a lot earlier.
In my mind and heart I still feel like that little boy who nobody wanted to befriend. But physically, I am starting to feel very old. I don’t want to end up living the rest of my life with regrets. So, I pour what energy I have left into doing what I love the most and hope that I still have a few more years of light in me, before I lose my mind, or else go blind or my body seizes altogether so that I can’t even operate a keyboard.
I am in a rush. I just finished my first sequel and my seventeenth book. It took me only one month to write. It’s the fastest I have ever written a book from beginning to end. It would have been even quicker, had it not been for the necessity of working, my dedication to my relationship with my wife and the other things that take up my day and steal me away from my words.
I have set myself a goal to write three more complete novels by the end of 2014. That will make it eight books (including children’s books) for the year. It’s a massive task, but I aim to complete it. I don’t know what 2015 will bring. Hopefully more opportunities to write. Maybe even a few surprises. But until then, I’m going to write like it’s the last year of my life.
The Black Fairy and The Dragonfly: Escape From The Dark Queen
Dear friends, fans and visitors,
Someone recently said I am prolific, meaning that I am doing lots of things all at once. There’s a good reason for this. I feel like I have little time left before I am either physically incapable or else I lose all desire. So every time I get the chance I am either writing, or writing about writing or editing or updating my various social media sites.
The truth is, time is precious. I don’t like wasting it. I am turning fifty next month and I don’t want to go into the next chapter of my life, having wasted a single moment to be creative. You see, my eyesight is failing, I’m losing my hearing, I now have arthritis developing in my hands and feet. My body won’t behave itself and I get tired easily, yet I wake up far too early (4am this morning). So as a consequence I am going to bed a lot earlier.
In my mind and heart I still feel like that little boy who nobody wanted to befriend. But physically, I am starting to feel very old. I don’t want to end up living the rest of my life with regrets. So, I pour what energy I have left into doing what I love the most and hope that I still have a few more years of light in me, before I lose my mind, or else go blind or my body seizes altogether so that I can’t even operate a keyboard.
I am in a rush. I just finished my first sequel and my seventeenth book. It took me only one month to write. It’s the fastest I have ever written a book from beginning to end. It would have been even quicker, had it not been for the necessity of working, my dedication to my relationship with my wife and the other things that take up my day and steal me away from my words.
I have set myself a goal to write three more complete novels by the end of 2014. That will make it eight books (including children’s books) for the year. It’s a massive task, but I aim to complete it. I don’t know what 2015 will bring. Hopefully more opportunities to write. Maybe even a few surprises. But until then, I’m going to write like it’s the last year of my life.
April 28, 2014
Book Winners Update
Just an update for all those people who won a book. I should be receiving the books tomorrow. Once I have signed them I will post them out to the addresses provided to me. Thanks for your patience.
Cheers,
Paul G Day.
Cheers,
Paul G Day.
April 8, 2014
New Title Released
Hi all,
I am pleased to present my latest children's book, "The Little Green Hen".
http://redbearbooks.wordpress.com/201...
I am pleased to present my latest children's book, "The Little Green Hen".
http://redbearbooks.wordpress.com/201...
