MCM's Blog, page 6
August 9, 2012
The Legion of Nothing Blog Tour: Day 10!
Aieeee! We’re halfway through our blog tour of epic proportions and we want you to join us! Come along, Pond.
Psst! Want the rundown on the blog tour and giveaway? Click here!
Missed a few days of the tour? Click here for the full schedule and links to each blog tour stop!
Today on the Blog Tour!
Today our beloved Bethzaida is hosting a fun excerpt of The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth over at Bookitty blog! Supersuits, PA systems and cops, oh my! Or rather, Ohhhhh myyyyy.
Leave a comment to gain an entry into the prize raffle!
Prizes!
Mmmm. Prizes. Go get those points for your chance at a kindle, some spectacular ebooks and print books, and more!
A Shade Green by Connley Landers
There was never a question; I would go to the University Of Missouri’s School Of Journalism. My Dad went there. He said, “A degree from MoJo is regarded as the best training for our field. You’ll have it made in the shade.” It was chilly in the shade; his shadow.
He was confused as to why I didn’t follow in his footsteps and go into TV journalism, but I’d decided to take a different path. For the first two years after graduating in 2010, I couldn’t find my writer’s voice, or anyone who wanted to hear it if I had. On New Year’s Eve there was an eviction notice taped to the front door of my cheapo, third floor, walk-up apartment in South Dallas. At first, I thought it might be a party invitation from one of my neighbors. After reading it on the balcony, I didn’t even have the energy to wad it up in anger, but let it drop from my hand and float down to the alley where it caught a gust of wind, got sucked into a little dust-devilish vortex with dead leaves, Styrofoam Starbucks cups, and packing peanuts from the dumpster. Then it vanished.
Watching nature’s dance was captivating with the red sun setting, backlighting the swirling scene—lovely, in a trashy-Nutcracker sort of way. I’d never noticed it before, but the waning moon was in the sky with the fiery, fading star at the same time, almost as if worlds might collide.
Suddenly, stirring, inky billows began to hide both bodies. I shivered. It could be a trying, dispossessed winter for one struggling scribe. Happy New Year.
Ominous, dark-green clouds formed in the west and roiled in like breakers from the eastern slope of the Rockies. It cast everything in a different light. There was something about it that made my skin crawl and the back of my neck twitch and itch. The air tasted swampy.
I backed into my apartment without taking my eyes off of the threatening weather. After closing the sliding glass door, and watching the front crawl in, I dug at the little pink bumps that sprouted under my shirt collar. There came to my mind a persistent image of a small farmhouse landing on a witch. That vision wouldn’t leave even as I paged through a magazine for its distraction. It was like trying to read through a translucent, lime-gelatin, shower curtain that had cartoons characters jiggling in it.
It rained frogs on January 1, 2012. “Charles, it’s a hell of a story for any aspiring writer!” Dad said. He’s the venerated TV anchorman, Dave Davis, at the CBS affiliate in Dallas and my hero, mentoring my career. It sounded like a challenge.
They came down in a Biblical, some said Mayan-esque, cascade. A reference not lost on Texas’ Baptists. They wailed apocalypse, Armageddon and some other A-words. Amphibiwords. It was awful. Guilt-ridden Jews and Catholics thought society deserved it and didn’t caterwaul—just shook their heads.
I couldn’t tell if they were worried or meekly turning their cheeks to inherit the earth. As a freelance writer trying to sell my skills on the open market, I needed to find an angle or an edge that my competition and Dad missed.
Everyone in North Texas knew Dave Davis. That alliterative name, leading man smile and veracious, baritone voice was in their living room every evening at six and ten. For eleven years he’d closed each show with a salute and his tag-line, “Hasta Manana.” Sometimes the kids at school had called me, Little Hasta Manana. I had to love it even though it gave me a stomach ache. Mom had always tried to protect me from Dad’s pressure.
She’d say, “Charles has a sensitive constitution, hon, don’t bear down on him so.” Stress got me in the belly, then worked its way up my spine and into my brain where it festered into imaginative boogie-things, making my gut hurt even more. It was like my body was tuned into the world first and then notified my mind with its own special language: nausea, neck hives and grabby-cramps.
***
The frogs weren’t the tiny, ribetting, hoppity kind, but the six foot, strutting, haughty type. The frogs said, “The fish, reptiles and then mammals have had it their way for a long time, now it’s our turn, Giggers.” They used that term for people—the G-word.
It was amazing how fast they rose to the top of the cultural heap. Time wasn’t the same; it leapt in jumps and jerks. The beautiful people started to have collagen injected into their tongues, and lip-agrandizing was a must. Men had their tongues lengthened instead of their penises. Women thought that was inconceivable.
Show business was profoundly affected. Since Dad was something of a television personality he was able to help me get an interview with the popular singing sensations, Rana Pipiens and the Tympanic Membranes. Entertainment was natural to them as rhythm, music and comedy seemed to be in their genes.
Their music filled the radio and TV. The group hop-dance-sloshed on their stylized music video remake of Singing in the Rain, the old Gene Kelly shtick, but they dumped plastic bottles of Pipiens Green Bullfrog Water on themselves—something about having to keep their skin always wet. I sold two review articles about them. They were music to me; a jingle in my pocket. Rent.
Dad said, “Do you really like them?”
“I guess.”
“Or, were you influenced by the money you got? Even if it’s subconscious, you affect a piece by the words you use. You shade it one way or another influencing the reader.”
“Shade?”
“Be objective. Can’t fawn or flatter.” Maybe Dad was right. I couldn’t toady to them.
Dad broke a big news story when The Membranes refused to perform at a Dallas nightclub that had a Frogger video arcade game. Dad pilloried the club manager on the evening news. It was removed.
The Aunt Jemima and Betty Crocker icons took on a greenish tint. Makeup warts were more popular than freckles or sparkles, even Madonna added six. Michael Phelps was running as vice president on the GOP, Green Old Party, ticket. Everyone knew he was a token biped. Head of the ticket was Thunderfrog, Eduardo Estivacion, whose platform was “a pool in every yard, and tadpoles in every pool.”
I sold an article to the Mckinney Courier Gazette. It was picked up by some of the bigger papers. Since I didn’t have a job to lose, it was pretty bold, titled, ‘We’re not in Calaveras County any more, Toto,’ which led to my next writing gig, or, assignment I should say. Mr. Estivacion liked the audacious voice in that first piece and wanted me for his “up close and personal” interview.
The Dallas Morning News sent me to meet him. Brave questions were needed. My stomach fluttered like bugs were in it. He was relaxing by his pool; sitting on a chaise lounge shaped like a giant lily pad and had a big bowl of crickets that he flicked out with a sticky, four foot tongue. I thought I’d puke when he offered me some, but held it down with my glottis clenched like a fist.
“So, you’re Charles Davis, the Gi… uh, guy that gets the exclusive interview with the next president?”
“You’re confident of victory, Mr. Estivacion?”
“Call me Ed E. And, yes, absolutely. The polls have me getting almost one hundred percent of the Amphibivote and a majority of the human vote. Even people know that you’ve screwed things up for too long.”
“The campaign rhetoric has turned negative with one of your opponents calling you ‘Frogenstein’ and claiming that you will ‘frogify’ everything.”
“A little mudslinging doesn’t bother me.”
“There is a backlash to the big changes taking place so rapidly. It’s been suggested that more gradual adjustments wouldn’t cause so much unrest—like boiling a….”
“Don’t.”
I didn’t dare look up from my yellow legal pad and barrelled on. “Some say frogs were the second plague God put on the Egyptians to warn the Pharaoh and that this is our warning.”
“Your warning was when all Amphibians started to disappear due to over-polluted water. The presidential oath is, ‘Serve, protect and defend.’ Presidents dismiss it. You ignored our demise as though the canary dying at the bottom of the mine means nothing. What is it with man? Do you really need a baby human in the cage to die at the bottom of that mine? Are you so species-centric that only your own impending death matters? Warnings obviously do no good.
We didn’t ask to be brought here, but Amphib-Americans are going to take their rightful place. When we say this country needs to ‘go green’ it has two meanings. You see? A change is needed. A metamorphosis. Not a change in shade—a real change. Nothing shady.” He starred at me and noticed my grimace and involuntary shudder. His laugh was a booming, reverberating croak that brought curious tadpoles out of the pool with gills flaring and partially formed hind legs kicking.
The butler, a big-mouthed man with protruding eyes, brought a bucket, dipped it in the pool and sloshed some on the master of the house. It smelled like rotting vegetation. Ed E rubbed it on his skin with his webbed hand as though it was sun lotion. He blinked at me with one of his translucent eyelids. It made me clench again. I don’t know why.
His wife came out and stood near the pool. “Anura, this is Charles of the Dallas Morning News.” I didn’t correct him on the career upgrade. She nodded and smiled—I think it was a smile. Anura dipped her backside into the pool and with a squishy, aqueous sound, released a couple of dozen gelatinous, grapefruit-sized eggs into the water. I felt a salty taste in my mouth. All the clenching and tight lips in the world wouldn’t save my lunch and actually powered the projectile vomit across the pool onto Anura’s back.
I felt Ed E’s tongue snake around my neck with pythonic genius. My hands went to my throat reflexly but couldn’t pry it loose or even get a grip against its amphlickness. My eyes bugged out like the butler’s. If I would’ve had anything left, I’d have lost it then and probably drowned in my own spew. Everything went black.
Mrs. E’s cool, clammy fore-flipper stroked my head and the world slowly came back into focus. It was a different world for sure. I was reminded by the bait-bucket air and my sore neck. Later, my interview was on the front page where I’d left out the tongue-lashing from Ed E. He got my vote even though my stomach flipped when I heard one clever political pundit say, “You’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs to find a president.”
***
When I told him I’d omitted the choking incident Dad said, “You’re right; a journalist shouldn’t become part of the story.” President Estivacion was impressed, still liked the voice he almost ruined, naming me his Press Secretary. Dad, at his station, replayed a TV interview I had with a gang of reporters. He spotted my nervous tick, “Son, do you reach up and rub your neck after every question?”
August 6, 2012
The Legion of Nothing Blog Tour: Day 9!
After a few bumps in the road, The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth blog tour continues to visit book bloggers galore!
Psst! Want the rundown on the blog tour and giveaway? Click here!
Missed a few days of the tour? Click here for the full schedule and links to each blog tour stop!
Today on the Blog Tour!
Jim, author of The Legion of Nothing, is over with Becky at Book Bite Reviews today with a guest post about how he accidentally wrote a YA novel!
Leave a comment to gain an entry into the prize raffle!
Prizes!
We have a kindle! We have ebooks! We have real books! WE EVEN HAVE A SUPER COOL TSHIRT! GO GRAB SOME FREE STUFF D:
August 2, 2012
LON Blog Tour: Day 5!
The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth blog tour is cruising around your favourite book blogs this month. Join the fun!
Psst! Want the rundown on the blog tour and giveaway? Click here!
Today on the Blog Tour!
Tricia at Musings of a Writing Reader has joined the fun as part of the LON Full Moon Bites blog tour week! Go check it out to read an excerpt and a brand new, exclusive podcast of Jim Zoetewey reading from LON: Rebirth! We think Jim’s got a natural storytelling voice, don’t you? Mmm. Dulcet tones ftw.
Leave a comment to gain an entry into the prize raffle!
Prizes!
Kindle kindle kindle, I made it out of…well, we bought it from amazon. D: But IT CAN BE YOURS. Go snatch up those points!
August 1, 2012
LON Blog Tour: Day 4!
The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth blog tour is off to a great start this week, making our way around the interwebs with some great excerpts, interviews, and guest posts. Stay tuned this week for some exclusive podcasts by Jim Zoetewey himself as he reads from Legion of Nothing: Rebirth!
Psst! Want the rundown on the blog tour and giveaway? Click here!
Missed our last couple stops? Here they are:
Read Jim’s interview with Nova over at My Seryniti!
Check out an excerpt from the book over at Sweeping Me!
Leave a comment on each to gain another entry into our big prize giveaway!
Today on the Blog Tour!
The lovely Brenda over at Crazy Four Books is hosting another exciting excerpt of LON: Rebirth today. Get introduced to Nick, Cassie, and the rest of the team and get a taste of what you’re missing!
Leave a comment to gain an entry into the prize raffle!
Prizes!
We’ve got a brand new kindle to give away, and we’re making it easy for you! Comment on the blog tour posts, like us on facebook, and sign up for Jim’s Legion of Nothing newsletter to get more entries! Mmmmm, kindle. I love the smell of ebook in the morning. 
July 29, 2012
The Legion of Nothing Blog Tour Begins! Win a Kindle!
We wanted to send off Jim Zoetewey’s first title with 1889 Labs in style- what better way to do it than with an awesome blog tour and FREE STUFF? We like free stuff, and we think you do too! We also think you’re going to love The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth in all of its YA Superhero glory.
You can grab The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth from amazon here!
Today on the Blog Tour!
We kick off this tour with a great guest post by author Jim Zoetewey over at Book Monster Reviews! Read about Jim’s journey from webfiction to the publishing world and the beginnings of The Legion of Nothing!
Leave a comment to gain an entry into the prize raffle!
Prizes!
What can you win? How does a kindle sound? Here’s the rundown:
Grand prize: Kindle + e-copy of LON for kindle
2nd: Hard copy of LON, LON tshirt
3rd: e-book bundle of LON and the Antithesis by Terra Whiteman (5 gift packs)
Readers can get multiple entries into the raffle, and here’s how:
1 entry per comment on each blog post of the tour (only one comment per user per post will count!)
1 entry for liking Legion of Nothing on facebook
1 entry for liking 1889 Labs on facebook
3 entries for signing up for the Legion of Nothing newsletter!
Wheeee! Come join us for the next month as we make our way around the interwebs with some of our favourite book bloggers!
July 28, 2012
Cursing With Eloquence
“Don’t fucking swear!”
I remember those words well. They were spoken by my very frustrated aunt during a car ride to Nova Scotia. My cousin had been acting up the entire trip, and he’d decided to throw a few expletives at his tormented younger cousin (me) who had kicked him in the knee in retaliation to his usual torment. This was way before the creation of Nintendo and other portable gaming devices, the long trip broken up with invisible ink activity pads and plastic bubbles with puzzles trapped inside of them, the silver ball bearings never finding their way into the proper holes. Transister radios never came with headphone jacks. There was only so long you could peel the stickers off of your Rubik’s Cube before someone inevitably started a game of Punch Buggy which left your arm bruised and a few choice words on the tip of your tongue for your pimple faced cousin. But you never said them because you knew the rules. ‘Don’t fucking swear’. Your aunt, with the curlers in her hair hidden underneath a pink scarf and a miserable, screaming baby in her lap didn’t need to look at you twice. You knew the score.
But your stupid cousin never learned. By the time you got the 112th PUNCH BUGGY! from his fist, it didn’t matter that there was a five year difference between the two of you or that he was bigger. He was stupid and you had sneakers on. A good kick to the knee as hard as you could left him near bawling, and before he could control himself and start tattling on you, the swear words had poured out, and your aunt had enough. Hell, your uncle was threatening to pull the car over to the side of the road. Chaos reigned, and it rode topside along the letter ‘f’ and slid furiously down the final stroke of the letter ‘k’. Vindication for the oppressed was inevitable. Threats of getting his mouth washed out with soap were tossed into the back seat. My uncle said something unintelligble and my aunt retaliated with a few curses all her own. My cousin hated me, I hated him. The baby kept crying. All was right with the world.
I grew up knowing that no matter what my elders tried to make me believe, cursing does have its place. It’s an aural exclamation point. If someone has just shattered your kneecap, ‘gosh darn’ isn’t going to be the phrase you use. Cursing is a severe emotional release put to words. Its meaning can be interpreted as shock, distress, surprise, joy. Cursing is culturally defined, with some of these representative words coming from religion, body parts, turtle eggs, with the one we most commonly understand not having any real linguistic root whatsoever. My personal favourite is a French curse word, its vulgarity based on the mostly Catholic population of Quebec. Cursing in that province evolved from blasphemes against specific holy items within the church. When it was explained to a friend of mine that one of the most severe swear words in French is what holds the little cubes of bread for communion, my friend exclaimed, confused “You’re shouting ‘bread-box’ at me?”
It was fun to shout ‘Bread-Box!’ every time we thought it was vaguely appropriate, but when I stapled my thumb to my desk I admit, I reverted back to my native language. Bread-Box is the perfect word in that situation for my dear French Canadian friend, but it wasn’t going to cut it for me.
Cursing doesn’t just define culture, it also defines one’s social standing. I knew a routine swearer who let the f-bombs fly so fast and furious she couldn’t wish you a good morning without it being littered with curses. Many people who worked with her looked down on her for it, which wasn’t fair because she was an intelligent woman, but the long string of curses made those in the office look down their pince-nez glasses and categorize her with extreme prejudice. She talks like she just walked out of a trailer park, they said. She wasn’t of their upper echelon who didn’t swear every four seconds. She was low class. Yet, as I’ve said, given the circumstance, everyone is more than willing to give a big hug to the f-word for consoling when trouble arises. I’m betting the Queen Herself has a few words tucked into her subconscious that are released at will should a Louis IV dresser fall on her big toe. Cursing is all about feeling. Perhaps my friend had a very stressful life that deserved an f-word every four seconds. She was always a very happy person despite all of that angry language. I’m guessing if she didn’t have cursing as an outlet she might have become a serial killer. I would much prefer a “Good fucking morning. How the fuck are ya?” to a machete wielding maniac with perfect formal diction.
In that car, travelling through the summer heat where A&W burgers were force fed to us and my red faced uncle looked ready to have a stroke at any moment, cursing was a signal that we, the kids, were on a lesser notch on that totem pole and we’d better tow the line or else. Only the priviledged adult was allowed to swear. Now, I’m not saying my aunt was a routine swearer. She wasn’t. But emotions get the best of all of us, and it’s good to remember this when writing dialogue, because when a character is pressed against the wall with a dozen or so rabid crocodiles with lasers ready to set their knickers on fire, I truly believe it wouldn’t matter if they were an imam or a nun, a curse word is going to be uttered. This doesn’t mean all your characters need to be foul mouthed to be realistic, but the language they use should reflect the emotions they are feeling in that particular, adrenaline punched scene. If those rabid crocodiles take a good chunk out of your protagonist and all he or she utters is ‘Gosh!’ in response, you don’t have the emotional impact that a well placed curse provides. Instead, you have characters who sound like Napoleon Dynamite, which might not be what you’re going for in your hard boiled detective thriller complete with ninjas and zombies.
To curse is to be human. How a person curses and when they do says a lot about who they are as people, their cultural background and what others believe of them. Use cursing to your advantage when creating realistic dialogue among characters. Despite all prudish naysaying and the fact you still can’t say a lot of George Carlin’s banned words list on TV, cursing has its place in the human experience. In my uncle’s car it was an unspoken agreement that a taut line had been drawn and we were to remain quiet and no longer try to snap it. My cousin and I did as we were told, and through the relentless remaining hours on the road we had forgiven each other and had forged a truce. With my cousin on the left, and myself on the right, middle fingers were secretly raised to every car that passed ours, shocked faces and outraged honking horns greeting us. My uncle thought the highway drivers just outside of Montreal were a bunch of crazy so and so’s. My cousin and I exchanged glances and shrugged.
Cursing in sign language wasn’t yet a crime.
July 26, 2012
Genre Bending.
One of the problems I come back to often in reading new fiction, especially DIY fiction, is genre.
Every book contains elements of several genres; some go together more naturally than others. But if you seriously want to write blended genres you had better know the important marks you will need to hit. A science fiction epic that has a romantic thread is not a blend of genres, it is a sci-fi epic in which the main characters develop a romantic attachment. In order to be blended genres, the romance has to be as important to the story as the science on which the story is based. Likewise, history and fantasy often go hand in hand, but if the historical details have no basis in fact, what you have is a fantasy set in an alternative history.
I read authors promoting their work and struggling with the blurred lines between genres, looking for familiar labels with which to help their audience find their work. It isn’t easy, but it should be easier than it is proving to be. Authors are ignoring the importance of reader expectation, and the importance of their own brand-power, by failing to curb their enthusiasm.
If you were writing for a publisher, they would give you nice clear guidelines which they like met and which their audience has come to expect. Along with a word count, they will give you a framework of elements that are recognized by their readers. Those elements are usually the reason readers choose that genre. They require certain things of a story in order to feel satisfied with what they have read.
If you try to write a story which is impossible to classify because it does not meet the requirements of any one genre, but mixes a whole pile of elements into a porridge, you may well find there is no label and no audience looking for what you have produced. The idea of blended genres is very popular with readers – as long as the important parts of each thread are there and satisfying, and they are getting more than they expect and not less.
What are the markers?
I hope you would choose to write what you enjoy reading, that is one of the few rules for writing that I think is well founded. If you love a type of story, you are likely to know instinctively what is important in your tale. If you are going to blend genres, try to blend genres you know. Some are a good deal easier to define than others. If in doubt, find a publisher of your chosen genre and read their guidelines. As an independent you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to do, but it can pay to take some proven advice. For example:
Fantasy:
Know your world. Readers will not tolerate shifting parameters, and even if the rules of the real world are broken, the rules you establish for your fantasy realm have to be consistent. The landscape, geography, and weather should be familiar to you and stable. Characters have to be fantastic in some way. Stereotypes are common in fantasy, it’s true, but in my opinion, only fantasies in their lowest form use duck-out-of-water normal main characters thrust into a fantastic world, these days, or a Deus ex machina magical solution to any problem.
Define, and ensure you know, the history of the world you create. It is not sufficient to use a vaguely fantastic world unless the fantasy aspect is only window dressing for the storyline. That is, unless you are aware that you are not writing a blended fantasy genre.
Know your subgenres and do not mix and match elements without knowing your subject. Subgenres of fantasy include alternate history, urban, dark, high, historical, steampunk, wuxia, sword and sorcery, time travel, and the paranormal. Fantasy should be based on heroes, myths and legend, folklore, fairy tales, and magic.
A bit of magic in an otherwise real world setting is not sufficient to wear the badge.
Romance:
A romance has a happy-ever-after ending. There are no exceptions. If you choose to have a story which does not end happily, as well you might, it does not fit the romance genre label. Before you reach the happy resolution, some other key points you must recognize are pace, conflict – internal and external, and intensity.
These have to be key drivers of the story and key motivators of the characters. If this is a side-issue and only part of the general ambience, it will not qualify as a blended romance. The central characters should meet and clash as close to page one as possible, and an intense love or hate emotional reaction at each meeting is essential. Adding a rocky relationship to a storyline does not make it a romance. Adding a subplot or setting to a romance does not make it a blended genre, it makes it a subgenre: historical, contemporary, gay and lesbian, mystery, ethnic/multicultural, inspirational romance, paranormal etc.
Westerns:
These should be set in the Old West before the year 1900. As a very specialized form of historical novel, it is essential to get the details accurate. Again, internal and external conflict for the main character is essential and these stories more than most rely on the need for character development: the hero should change and grow as a result of physical and moral conflict. It is not sufficient to drop a clichéd cowboy with a gun into any other realm and still use the Western genre label.
Historical:
Details, details, details; first, second and third, they are all that matter in this genre. You cannot use anachronisms in thought, attitudes, deeds or accessories. Set the stage carefully and accurately, be it cane or chair or hats or devices. Your historical characters cannot wear clothing or use products that weren’t contemporary. Pay attention to details like social customs, holidays, transportation, and food, and make sure they are relevant to the period. Research, research, research; if it comes off the top of your head it probably has the detail, detail, detail wrong, and you are not blending a historical genre, you are creating an alternative history for another genre altogether.
I won’t go on with the thirty or more genres; maybe another day. It suffices to say that you have to know what reward a reader is hoping for when they search out a particular genre. All genre labels are definitions created to help direct traffic; each carries with it an expectation. If you do not know, if you cannot list the important points in the genre you choose to write, research the question. Go to publishers’ guidelines. Google it, if nothing else. Then take care when you decide to label your work.
It is of no use to anyone in the modern marketplace to draw a mass of readers to your work if they are disappointed with what they find; not because it was a poorly written story, but because it was not something they derived their expected enjoyment from. Use the familiarity of these labels to your advantage rather than railing against them.
Know your readers and what they love. Treat them with the respect due to intelligent consumers. Knowing what a genre actually is before you label your work is not curbing your artistic expression, it is giving your readers a better chance of finding what you’ve created.
Oh – and one last thing. Don’t add in things which are not acceptable to your chosen demographic. Don’t write an inspirational/Christian story full of explicit sex and violence, for example. When you find an audience, don’t offend them in the hope of drawing in another audience who might not exist.
July 23, 2012
The Legion of Nothing: RebirthNow on Kindle!
THE DAY HAS COME!
After weeks of waiting, of editing, of rewriting and of cover-image-deciding, it’s finally here.
The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth is as of today available on the Kindle!
We at 1889 are so excited to be publishing this superhero series by Jim Zoetewey. It’s a kickass, action-packed story which will blow all the current soppy YA novels out of the water. And if, like me, you’ve just seen The Dark Knight Rises in the cinema, this will give you more superhero goodness to get excited about.
The Legion of Nothing: Rebirth is the first volume of the series. It’s a coming-of-age story about Nick Klein, a teenager who has inherited his grandfather’s superhero identity and powered armor.
But with power comes responsibility, for Nick has also inherited his grandfather’s unfinished business. Between homework, corrupted politicians, teenage relationships and supervillains, Nick struggles to solve the city’s corruption–before it solves him.
What are you waiting for? Grab it from the Kindle store now!
For those of you hungry for other e-editions or a lovely paperback version, hold your breath a little longer. They’re coming soon!
Don’t forget to stop by here on July 27 for the launch of our month-long blog tour for The Legion of Nothing! Prizes up for grabs include limited-edition tshirts, ebooks and print books and, of course, a KINDLE!
(If you’re a book blogger and would like to take part in the tour, read this.)
Woo!
July 21, 2012
WeSeWriMo 2012
I first heard about Web Serial Writing Month (or WeSeWriMo) in the summer of 2011. At the time, I was toying with the idea of writing a web serial of some sort, but I wasn’t ready to really start working on one, so I filed the concept away in the back of my mind and went on with my life, which at that point involved writing a few short stories and working on the beginnings of a novel.
Little did I know that one year later, I would have just completed a six-month-long serial called Losing Freight and be about 70 updates and 75,000 words deep into another ongoing project called Special People. With those two serials on my writing résumé, and a handful of other concepts floating around somewhere in the inky depths of my brain, waiting to be dredged up at some point in the unspecified future, it’s like WeSeWriMo was purposefully designed for me.
Maybe it’s meant for you, too.
WeSeWriMo, which is run by the web serial community site EpiGuide, runs annually during the month of August. This will be its sixth straight year. WeSeWriMo was inspired by the ever-popular National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). But where NaNoWriMo challenges authors to complete a 50,000-word novel in a single month, WeSeWriMo is designed to be adaptable to the unique challenges and opportunities of web serialization. Just as web serials come in a wide variety of formats, genres, and release schedules, the goals WeSeWriMo participants can pursue are entirely customizable. The idea is that each participant can set their own targets, based on their regular output. The WeSeWriMo website suggests aiming for 150% of your regular output as an example target, so if you’re used to releasing 4 episodes of your series in a month, try to write 6 episodes, instead, and add them to your backlog. Another goal could be to write 1,000 words per day for the entire month, or you could come up with something completely different to try for, as long as your target is “ambitious yet realistic”.
In my own case, I’ve decided to set a couple of different types of targets. I normally write and post two 1,000-word chapters per week for Special People, but in my official registration post on the EpiGuide forums, I laid out the following three goals:
Goal #1: Write 15 chapters (15,000 words)
Goal #2: Outline the next story arc.
Goal #3: Prepare the first Special People book for release.
The first goal is my “normal” goal. Instead of what would be my regular output of 8 or 9 chapters for August, I want to write 15 chapters and build a good backlog. But I also want to prepare the next story arc to come, because I’ve found that, for me, the more outlining and pre-planning I do for my writing, the better my stories turn out. It can be difficult to force myself to sit down and be intentional about outlining, though, so I’m making that part of my personal challenge for WeSeWriMo. Finally, it’s been my plan for months to release ebook and print versions of the larger Special People story arcs as I complete them, so I’m adding that to my WeSeWriMo to-do list.
As you can see, my targets are designed around my own writing style, format, and release schedule. I’m really enjoying the opportunity to be creative with my goals and have control over my own participation. Having control over my own work is one of the main reasons why I love serializing my writing, and I’m sure I’m not alone in that. If you’re like me, I think you’ll find the idea of WeSeWriMo very appealing.
To register yourself for WeSeWriMo, formalize your targets, and get involved in the community of web serial writers and producers, head over to the website and post your entry in the EpiGuide forums today!
