Penelope Baldwin's Blog, page 5

“A House Made of Bricks” to Whet Your Whistle

A House Made of Bricks, my new book, is available now at Amazon.com in paperback and on Kindle. Because I love the people who read my blog, I wanted to give you a little...

The post “A House Made of Bricks” to Whet Your Whistle appeared first on Adventures From the Underground.

Because You’re Curious… A Bit of My Book To Whet your Whistle

“Not so fast. It’s pretty late to be out here on a date, don’t you think?”

“What? You never take a girl to a park before?” Miller stepped in front of me and eyed the stranger.

“You’re here to give me the money Reinhold owes me.”

Miller pushed me further behind him. “I don’t know any Reinhold.”

“You sure? Because he told me I’d get my money at this exact park, at this exact time, from someone who matches your description.”

“You got me confused with someone else.”

“You’re not changing your mind on me now are you… Adam?”

“It’s not like that. He told me you’d sell me scratch.”

“Well I think we both figured out that ain’t happening. So either I get my money or you both die.”

I grabbed Miller’s arm and held it tight. All of my anxiety turned to panic in an instant.

Miller put a hand up. “Okay. I’ll get you your money. How much are we talking?”

“Eight thousand.”

He raised his eyebrows, but recovered. “Fine. Eight thousand. Whatever you need. But she has nothing to do with this. You gotta let her go.”

“So she can call the cops? I don’t think so.”

My pulse bounded, and my hands shook. But I needed to get it together. Miller didn’t know that our friends stood fifty yards away or that they’d probably already called the police…but I did. He didn’t know that help was on the way, or that he was minutes away from landing back in jail. He didn’t know he needed to get out of this place before his world came crashing down…but I did.

“Keep me,” I yelled.

Miller swung around. “What?”

“He doesn’t want anything to happen to me, so you know you can trust him to get your money.”

“She’s got a point. You don’t get my money? Say a word to anyone? She dies.”

“No. I’m not leaving here without her. If you want…”

Before I knew it, the guy grabbed me and put a gun to my head.

“Go get my money, now.”

“Okay. Okay. Don’t hurt her. I promise I’ll get the money. Just don’t touch her.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Go.”

“I can’t… I can’t leave you here with him.”

“If you don’t, he’ll kill us both.”

He stared at me for several seconds with panic in his eyes. Finally, he cast his eyes on the dealer. “Don’t hurt her, or I will kill you.”

“Don’t screw with me, and I won’t have to.”

Miller studied me one more time then ran off into the woods behind us.

Once he left, I felt the arm around my neck grow tighter. “You better hope he comes back quick.”

 

Worth It: Should You Write Your Novel?

How do you know if it’s worth it? I did it. My book, A House Made of Bricks is now available at Amazon.com. Now that the books is finished, and I can see the final product, I feel like I can finally answer the question that I asked myself throughout...

The post Worth It: Should You Write Your Novel? appeared first on Penelope Baldwin.

Worth It to Write a Book?

How do you know if it’s worth it? I did it. My book, A House Made of Bricks is now available at Amazon.com. Now that the books is finished, and I can see the...

The post Worth It to Write a Book? appeared first on Adventures From the Underground.

Adventures in Making it

I did it.

My book, A House Made of Bricks, is available now at Amazon.com in paperback and kindle!

So, I know it’s too soon to answer this question, but I’m going to give it my best shot anyway- was it worth it?

I have to be honest. If someone asked me that question during the editing process, my first instinct would have been to say, “Nope.”

If you asked me that question during in the midst of my formatting debacle, my answer would have been a no with maybe a few expletives added.

I can think of probably a hundred snapshots in time that, if asked, I would have said… well probably, “Can you hold my coffee for a second while I throw my laptop on the ground then drive over it with my car?” Afterwards I probably would have just shook my head and walked away as an answer.

At this point you might be thinking, “Then why did you do it?” Because right now I’m kind of thinking, “Wait…why did I do it?” This is what I came up with.

I had to write it. My frustrations stemmed from my inept computer skills and my self- doubt. It had nothing to do with the actual writing part. Writing is like sunlight for me. It elevates my mood and gets me through difficult times.
I wanted my characters to be heard. Once they started talking, I had to let them finish.
My friend Janie wouldn’t let me.
“Do the thing you fear most and the death of fear is certain.” -Mark Twain

So, now it’s out. So…was it worth it?

My kids get to say their mom wrote a book.

My grandchildren’s grandchildren can read my words.

No matter what else I do the rest of my life I always have this time, this snapshot in my life, when I said, “I didn’t give up.”

So…yes.

A House Made of Bricks is available at Amazon.com

 

 

Formatting -Why I Hate the F-word

I’ll just start by saying the word. F#@matting. There, I said it. And when I say the formatting word out loud, it’s in the same way that the principal says, “Bueller” in Ferris Bueller’s...

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Adventures in the F word- Why I’d rather do most anything more than formatting

I’ll just start by saying the word. F#@matting. There, I said it. And when I say it out loud, it’s in the same way that the principal says, “Bueller” in Ferris Bueller’s day off.  Because my disdain for it is similar.

When I wrote my first book, Being Invisible, my process could only be described as “clueless.” I opened up word- and typed. Then when I completed my book, I jumped up and down, yelled, “woo-hoo!” and looked up how to format your book. The first thing I read… “Format your book BEFORE you write it.” And the second…”It’s much more difficult to format your book after you you write it than before.” And the third… “You will need the following ingredients to make a margarita…” But I digress.

I did EVERYTHING wrong. And one solution caused another  problem. Indents, spacing, line breaks, page breaks, gutter margins,chapter headings, page numbers… and the list goes on and on.

By the time I was done I’d gone from, “Everything needs to be prefect,” to “Eh.” I understood the importance of getting it right so I didn’t look like a “self-published author.” But I also needed my sanity. I’ll just say- I get Jack Nicholson’s character in The Shining, and I’m pretty sure the “evil presence” started with his inability to keep his chapter headings consistent.

So now… fast forward to book two. I am a new writer. I am prepared. I’ve been around the block before so not only do I know what to do, I can impart my wisdom to others.

And somehow- I still managed to have problems with my formatting. Far less than I had before, I’ll admit. But I had to get a crash course in html from my sister, Kerri and my friend Janie, and my back cover information still came out wrong. I created all of my indents ahead of time, and yet when I proofed my book, the first word wasn’t indented. (The rest were though- go figure.)

I talked about giving up- and how I wasn’t going to  do it- in one of my first posts but I wanted to delete that post and write another entitled, “Don’t do it! Don’t even look at your keyboard! It’s not worth it!”

I’d love to tell you that my perseverance was due to my strength and determination, but mostly it’s because my friend Janie told me she helped me too much for me to give up. Plus, the reason I started writing a book in the first place was to show my kids what happens when you don’t give up. Even though I really, really wanted to give up.

Yesterday will go down in (my own personal) history as the day I published my second book, A House Made of Bricks. Extra special because it was also my daughter’s birthday.

And yet, the formatting still isn’t perfect. Three words on the first page have no space between them, even though it wasn’t like that in my original copy. As soon as  I saw it I did the thing where you almost say a bunch of words, but don’t really get out any because you really just don’t know what to say.

I hate to admit it, but as of this post, it’s not fixed. I needed a little time to vent my frustrations before I return to the drawing board. So, if you buy my paperback now, you can get the special edition with the word, “minutestoplod” in the second sentence of the book. Get it while you still can! (She shouted in her best infomercial voice while avoiding eye contact with those with one eyebrow up.)

Please tell me I’m not the only one who has had this much trouble!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tomorrow’s the Big Day!!!

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Slipped Through the Cracks

Do you ever think about all the kids out there that have slipped through the cracks? Ever since I started writing my book, A House Made of Bricks, I’ve been thinking about it a...

The post Slipped Through the Cracks appeared first on Adventures From the Underground.

Slipping Through the Cracks

Do you ever think about all the kids out there that have slipped through the cracks? Ever since I started writing my book, A House Made of Bricks, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.

I recently wrote a blog about one of the main characters, Eliza, who is trying to live life without anxiety. But it’s the other main character, Miller, who really tore at my heartstrings.

His story reminded me that there’s a whole world out there we don’t see. Kids with absent or abusive parents, kids who struggle with depression or other mental illnesses, kids who age out of the foster care system, runaways…

How many kids out there feel completely alone? How many adults with lifelong struggles were victims of their circumstances as children?

My hope is that we find a way for every child to feel safe.

I wanted to write about what it must be like to feel alone…but also how it feels to have hope. I wrote the following with that in mind.

Once upon a time, you slipped through cracks.

Held down.

Held back.

You lived unloved…

It’s cold at night, the darkness falls. You wait for light…it never comes.

A world alone.

The pain has numbed, the fear is gone. The less you feel, the more you go on.

But nothing feels a lot like pain. You wait for sleep then count the days.

The time stands still.

Left before.

Left behind.

A life unknown.

A soul that’s lost, but no one finds. You remembered it once, but it’s long since gone.

Now the emptiness feels a lot like pain. You mask the hole then look for ways

To pretend to feel.

Others shuffle through their day

They live

They laugh

Their lives unscarred.

They all have dreams, but yours are marred. You lie awake and count the stars.

The one reminder you’re not alone. They take the place of a life, a home.

You wait for night.

Forgotten.

Forgone.

Days undefined.

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time, you reached out your hand.

Fingers grasp.

They help you stand.

Unshackle the past.

A life unchained.

You are more.

Your life is named.

It’s warm inside, the darkness falls. You wait for light…it filters in.

A world with hope.

The pain is real, the fear remains, but the more you feel, the less the pain.

You feel the hurt, but slowly heal. A chance to sleep, a chance to feel.

The time creeps by.

Left before.

That life behind.

The bind renewed.

Your soul,you find. It hurts at first, but you give it time. Until the empty hole is filled with breath. A life.

You wait for night. And count the stars. A reminder that you’re not alone, that you are loved, you have a home.

Your life defined.

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time you had a past.

But you are loved, the feeling lasts.

And you are more.

A life unbroken.

A life that’s yours.

You are more.

What can we do to help keep kids from slipping through the cracks?