Andy Peloquin's Blog, page 52

Who are You Doing it For?

Last week, I was highly annoyed at the fact that I had to drive my daughter to a friend’s house for a party, and one of my sons to another friend’s house for a hang-out. All I wanted to do was to sit down and write, and these activities were getting in my way.

I found myself thinking, “Man, if I didn’t have a family, I would have SO MUCH MORE time to write.”

But then I analyzed that thought. If I didn’t have a family, yes, I truly would have a lot more time to write. I would have all day long–aside from the few hours I would need to work to cover my expenses–because I would have no one to make me wash the dishes, clean the house, drive anyone anywhere, and so on.

That word “alone” is the one that stands out, however. If I was alone, I would have all the time I wanted, but why would I be writing? Sure, there’s always the passion of writing, but passion wanes quickly when faced with hard work. Without a family, I don’t think I would put as much into the writing as I am today.

See, the fact that I have very little time to invest in my writing means that I need to make the time I have count. Instead of getting distracted, I shut out everything but my music and my book, and I use the little time I get to be as productive as possible. Even if it’s just an hour, by God, I’m going to make it the best hour I can.

If I lived alone, I would have no need to be productive. I could allow the story to flow and write as I saw fit, taking a break when I lost the desire to write and coming back to it when I “felt it” again. But if I did that, I doubt I would ever get anything done.

Having a family is what drives me to be the best writer I can be. I am currently supporting my family of six, but I’m tired of my day job. I want to support my family doing what I love, which is writing fiction. In order to do that, I have to earn enough money to cover our expenses. To earn enough money, I need to have a book or books that sell well. If I want my books to sell well, they need to be top quality products. Hence me putting in the work of making the books as EPIC as I can.

Another thought struck me that same day: if I didn’t have a family, I would have no one to share my achievements with. Even if I wrote a best-selling novel and became a millionaire overnight, I wouldn’t be able to turn to my wife (like I can now) and say “Look what I did!”

So, while my family may stop me from writing, they’re also the thing that pushes me to be the best writer I can be. Without them, I’d be nothing, and they make me what I am today. They are the reason I am doing it.

Thank you all!

Book Review: The Sibyl by Cindy D. Witherspoon

It’s Book Review Wednesday, my favorite day of the week! Today, we’re mixing a bit of Greek mythology with TV and ghost hunting. Say what?

The Sibyl

Some tragedies are best left forgotten. Eva McRayne wanted a steady paycheck, not a television show. But when Elliot Lancaster hands her the opportunity to discredit his paranormal findings on camera, she finds it impossible to turn him down. Her life changes in more ways than one after she goes to New York to learn more about the theories she will be shooting down on television. Eva McRayne encounters a Sibyl desperate to be free of the shackles which bind her to Apollo. Shackles she binds onto Eva – a disbeliever who learns the hard way just how real the paranormal can be.

My Review: 4 Stars

This is not something I say often, but I will say it here: I was quite captivated by this book. While I was skeptical going into the story, by the time I reached the third or fourth chapter, I had a hard time putting it down. I wanted to know more about this “sibyl” thing, how the Greek mythology (I’m a huge fan) tied into it all, and more.

The ending was a bit disappointing, without any sort of satisfying climax. This seemed like the first 50 to 75% of a longer novel, and there was no real villain or threat to speak of. The character just discovered her powers, but there was no real danger in the entire book. I think it took too long to get to the main part of the story–the passing on of the Sibyl power. Had the power been introduced earlier, it would have given the story more time to build up and perhaps would have allowed for a better climax. The characters are solid, the story is very well-researched, and it’s got a very good plot.

The writing style is a tad simplistic, but there are only occasional typos and errors–I’d give the writing a solid 4 stars. It is clearly a Book 1, but it was one that left me with only mild interest in reading Book 2. There was nothing that made me think, “Ooh, I want to know more about THAT!” Still, the quality of the story and the interesting theme may convince me to get my hands on Book 2 when it comes out.

 

Here’s a Taste

“Eva, is it? That’s nice.” Kathy reached over to the table to pick up a heavy hand mirror. “The spirits are telling me you don’t believe in them. You detestthe paranormal. Is this true?” 

“Honestly?” I looked to Elliot, then to the scryer. “No, I don’t detest the paranormal. I just think you are all here to make money.” 

“And you? Isn’t that why you are here as well?” 

Touché. 

“I really need to get going.” I tried to ease away from her, but this woman was quick. She grabbed my arm again to hold me in place. 

“Then look into this mirror. If you see nothing, then I will release you.” She handed it to me with the care one would preserve for a child. “Yet if you see anything – anything at all – you must tell us at once what you see.” 

“I am going to see my reflection. Nothing more, nothing less.” I shrugged. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s how mirrors work these days.” 

“Indeed.” Kathy pushed the mirror against my hands. “Well, then. The sooner you take a look and do as I say, the sooner you can sit back down with your love over there.” 

Love? Who did this lady think she was? Her assumption made me angry. I couldn’t explain my sudden anger, but I felt defensive towards her. I wanted nothing more than to snatch the mirror from her hand and smash it against the carpet. Yet, just as I wrapped my hands around the handle, I remembered thecontract I’d signed saying I would put myself in these exact same situations for money. 

Damn it. 

“Alright, but only if I get to leave after this.” 

I was surprised at how heavy the mirror was as Kathy Carter released her grip. It was obviously old with carvings along the rim and handle. I flipped it over so the glass was facing me. I saw what I always see in a mirror. 

“I see myself.” I handed it back to her. “I’m not sure what you were trying to prove, but I don’t think it worked.” 

“Tell me you are willing to do this.” Kathy Carter was shifting from foot to foot, locking her hands in front of her as she refused to take it back. “You must be willing.” 

“Well, I’m not.” I thrust the mirror in her direction. “So take this back.” 

“Please,” The scryer closed in the distance between her and clasped her hands over mine holding the mirror. “Just try. Be willing to try.” 

“Try what exactly?” I frowned. “You’re not being very clear.” 

“I can’t explain it. No human can explain what happens with mere words. Just please, say what I tell you to say.” 

Kathy glanced at the audience and I got it. She was using me to make her little presentation more dramatic. The scryer was probably making such a scene to fill in the time gap since I broke her laptop and subsequently ended the PowerPoint she would have shown to us. I was so relieved I almost laughed. 

“Alright, fine.” I tugged my hands free from the woman. “I’m willing to play along with your act. What do you need me to say?” 

“I take thee, mirror, to be my own.” 

I turned towards the audience and waved the mirror like a flag. “I take thee, mirror, to be my own.” 

The scryer clapped her hands together with obvious excitement. “Apollo, bless my eyes to make me see. Allow me to hear the words unheard by the living to learn from the dead. I am your daughter. Your messenger. Your servant for time immortal.” 

“Ok.” I faced her and repeated her mantra. When I was done, I tried to give her the mirror once more. “Can I go now?” 

“Close your eyes, child. Your world will change the moment you open them.” 

“Whatever it takes to get this over with.” 

I let out an exaggerated sigh as I closed my eyes. I felt the woman grab my hands, holding them so tight against the handle it was hard for me not to cry out as the carvings cut into my palms. Kathy Carter started whispering, her words getting lost to my ears as my hands began to burn. This time, I did cry out. But the woman had a grip on me. One she wasn’t going to let go of easily. 

I felt the heat rising up from my hands as it traveled up my arms. I was so focused on getting away from the scryer I barely heard the applause erupting through the room. The fire engulfing me didn’t stop until it reached my eyes and my ears. The horrible woman started cackling like a witch in a fairy tale just as the pain from the heat become unbearable. She released my hands as she called out so that the entire room could hear her. 

“It’s over! Thanks be to the gods, my time is over.” 

I opened my eyes trying to seek out Elliot’s familiar face in this sea of strangers. Instead, my gaze was trapped by the mirror glowing red. The glass seemed to be reflecting the fire engulfing my mind. I wanted to look away. I needed to look away. Yet the color captivated me as a strange white noise filled my ears. 

Elliot pushed Kathy Carter out of the way. He took hold of my chin to force my eyes away from the strange shades of red and black. I could see his lips moving. I knew he was asking me if I was alright. 

I couldn’t hear him. I could hear nothing as the white noise shifted into a furious whispering much like what the scryer had done. I turned my attention ontothe mirror as a face formed in the darkness. I knew this face was the one whispering to me. It was a man; young and just as beautiful as Kathy Carter. His golden eyes shimmered as he smiled. This was the voice filling my ears. 

“Your soul is now mine, Sibyl.” 

I dropped the mirror just before I passed out. 

 

About the Author

Cynthia D. Witherspoon is an award winning writer of Southern Gothic, Paranormal Romance, and Urban Fantasy. She has been published in numerous anthologies since 2009. Her work has appeared in several award winning collections including Dark Tales of Ancient  Civilizations (2012) and PellucidLunacy (2010).

Get the book from Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sibyl-cynthia-d-witherspoon/1120310137?ean=2940046138146

Or from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sibyl-Oracle-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00NMN3IAQ/

Cynthia posts regularly on her website:  http://www.cynthiadwitherspoon.com

Hook up with her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cynthia-D-Witherspoon/315516345297331

Writing Has Taught Me Communication

It’s amazing how much is lost in translation! From the thoughts in my head to the words coming from the mouth to the things you hear to the way you interpret what you heard, there’s a lot of ways for things to be totally misunderstood.

But thankfully, writing has taught me a bit more about how to communicate like a pro.

If you think about it, writing is ALL about communication. I’m using words to describe the image that I see in my head, and my goal is to use words that will help the reader to see what I’m seeing. If I don’t choose my words just right, the picture they see will be TOTALLY different from the picture I see.

As a writer, your goal is to choose the best word to fit what you are trying to describe. If you are trying to describe something that is a specific shade of green, you don’t just stick with the word “green”. Instead, you use words like emerald, olive, lime, forest green, etc. If you are trying to describe a very tall man, you use words like giant, mammoth, or colossus.

You need to choose your words carefully when you speak, as well as when you write. If you throw about words carelessly, you could end up communicating a totally different message than what you’re trying to say. The words that come from your mouth may not jive with the picture in your head, and they may be interpreted a completely different way when they reach the other person’s ears and mind.

Just like you have to be selective with the words you use in your writing, be selective with the words you use when you communicate. You make your characters very expressive, very elaborate, very deep people, so use a bit of your creativity on yourself. Instead of just letting words flow from your mouth in a steady stream, think about what you would say if you were the character in your book. “Write” your own dialogue before speaking, and you’ll avoid A LOT of miscommunications that way!

Book Review: The Revealing Print by Dexx Peay

It’s Bonus Book Review Saturday! Today, we go a bit outside of our comfort zone and read about superheroic teenagers…

 

The Revealing Print

Marcus and Dylan were born right into the middle of a three thousand year old war. Only problem, they didn’t know it existed.

My name is Marcus Peterson, the kid who plays with fire…

My parents gave me up for adoption, and left me with nothing. Eighteen years later, I collected my inheritance: a set of ancient journals, the power to shoot fire from my hands, and the secret to who I really am—a Xarponian.

I’m Dylan Perry, the coolest kid in town…

It was cool when I found out I could shoot ice particles from my hands. Something like the Avengers —until the attacks started. Having random people try and kill me was not on my list of things to do. I don’t even know why they want me dead, I am not like them. I’m not even marked. I don’t know what I am.

With the War of the Xarponians and Qihar taking place on Earth, Marcus and Dylan must learn to harness their new found abilities while balancing being sons, students, but most importantly, best friends.

 

My Review: 3.5 Stars

This book was a bit hard for me to read, I’m not going to lie. The writing is very solid, but there are a lot of “young” expressions (at one point the MC’s phone was “blowing up”) that take the level of intelligence down to a YA level. It may be meant as a YA book, but perhaps the writer could have kept things a bit more intelligent.

It’s definitely geared to a younger audience, so adults may want to avoid it. It’s great for teenagers or older children who want an interesting read. The characters are fairly relatable, though they tend to be a bit shallow. There was no real character development throughout the story, but it was just a great adventure story.

Some of the things that the story focused on seemed a bit inane to me, and the writer’s inexperience shows through. There were no typos or visible mistakes, and there is a lot of promise in the writing. It may not be the best YA book I’ve read, but it’s not bad at all.

 

Here’s a Taste:

I watched my best friend’s hands and eyes on fire. Immediately I went with my first reaction and grabbed him at the wrist. Steam quickly filled the space between us. I must have somehow extinguished the flames because they were gone and so were the fiery eyes.

“Fire and Ice,” I whispered still holding onto his wrist.

“What are you doing,” Marcus squealed, snatching his arm away from me.

“You were on fire that’s what just happened.”

“Explain how you put it out then.” Cupping his hand around his mouth, he stared at me and began to examine my face. I’d seen that look before.

“How did your eyes get blue?” he asked.

“Is everything okay in there?” Mrs. Peterson said, banging on the door.

“Yes Mom we’re okay. No need to come in,” Marcus panicked.

“How long have you been setting things on fire?

“About two months,” Marcus said pouting, plopping down on his bed.

“WAIT! The pool, it was you heating it up, I knew it.”

“Shhh! Keep it down. It all started when I noticed the temperature would increase around me and sometimes things would catch on fire, but never my hands. I was a little freaked out cause for the most part I wouldn’t remember what happened that’s why I didn’t tell anyone. What about you?”

“For the past few weeks my eyes would turn blue at random, but prom night I froze—”

“What did you freeze?”

“I froze a cup of water I was drinking, and then just now.”

“What do we do with all this?”

I started to grab my belongings and headed to the door with the biggest smile on my face.

“Where are you going?” Marcus asked.

“You can stay here but I’m going to find the professor and join the X-men.”

“What? Dylan this is no time for games.”

“Yeah you’re right, The Fantastic Four could be a better fit for us, but they already have the human torch so you may be out of a job.”

“DYLAN forreal. Let’s be serious about this.”

“Awe man this is the coolest thing to ever happen to me.”

“Why us though?”

“Whoooo caressss…”

“Wait can you be serious just for a split second. If we both have these…”

“Superpowers.”

“Right, these superpowers, then there has to be others out there with different abilities too right?”

“Well that makes sense, but how will we find them?”

“What if they don’t want to be found? Dylan I don’t think we can share this with anyone.”

This was amazing! What teenage boy doesn’t wish that he and his best friend would wake up one day with superpowers? Amazing as it was, I had to agree with him. I’d seen too many movies where people with superhuman abilities were hunted down or experimented on by government agencies.

“I agree. I don’t think we can tell anyone, not even our parents. How do you think we even got these powers? I don’t remember falling into any kind of toxic waste or being an alien from a distance planet,” I said.

“Let’s just go on with our normal everyday lives and try to not use these powers okay”, Marcus urged.

“Try not to use these powers? What if someone said you couldn’t run track because you were naturally fast? It’s not everyday people wake up and realize they’re so different they’re on a whole other level. We can be heroes Marcus! Just a minute ago you were saying how you wanted to give people second chances at life. Here it is, this is your chance.”

“Relax. After graduation we will figure this whole thing out.”

“I’m so looking forward to graduation.”

 

About the Author:

Dexx was born in Germany, grew up in Tennessee, educated in Alabama, and now residing in Texas. As a child his imagination was forever running rampant, spending time with imaginary friends and getting lost in fantasy and mystery books. When he was inducted into an elite writing club at his elementary school, he knew then he wanted to be a writer and novelist as an adult. As he got older, he suppressed his creative side and studied biology in college. It wasn’t until the voices of Marcus and Dylan began talking to him day and night that he decided to pick up the pen again.

Marcus and Dylan are the main characters in his series “The Chronicles of Fire and Ice.” His debut novel “The Revealing” was the first of the series. His next installment “Redemption” is set to be released sometime early 2015.

Dexx gives credit to his time in Iraq and the soldiers who served with him as inspiration for his first series. He also enjoys the finer things in life such as: greasy foods, sweet and unhealthy desserts, cheap wine, sleeping late, and Taylor Swift.

Find the book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Fire-Ice-Revealing-ebook/dp/B00NK2EHWM/

Hook up with Dexx on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/DexxP

Tweet at him: https://twitter.com/PRInCE_CHARMinZ

Or visit his website: http://www.authordexxpeay.com/

 

Foolish or Wise?

William Shakespeare once said, “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

This basically sums up the entire conversation that I had with someone yesterday…

As you know, I’ve been doing Book Reviews on my blog, offering them to anyone who has a book that intrigues me. It’s a lot of fun, a great way to read more, and a chance to learn from the mistakes of others.

Yesterday, someone messaged me asking if I would review their book. Before I agreed, I checked out the book on Amazon using the “Look Inside” feature. When I read through the first page, the book was missing A LOT of commas, and the writing was a bit wordy.

Here’s how the email conversations went:

ME: Hey Person, quick Q: Does the book you’re going to send me have any commas? The version I read on Amazon in the “Look Inside” has maybe 25% of the commas it should have. Will you be sending me the same version, or a newer one?  Thanks! (someone told me that this sounded a bit pompous or arrogant, so I guess I started the conversation out on the wrong foot)

THEIR RESPONSE: Hi Andy, I am not quite sure what you mean. The book was sent through having editing and proofreading therefore any run-on sentences etc. were eliminated with the rules of proper grammar. Can you give me an example? I pulled up the “look inside” version and do not understand what you mean. Thank you.

ME: Here are the examples:

Sentence the very first (“Wake up!” the faint female voice screamed frantically (comma missing) causing Allie to stir in slumber as she tried to reposition herself in the rocker.

A few paragraphs down (The monster slowly turned its gaze to meet Allie’s and let out a deep throttle of a laugh (comma missing) licking its grey lips…)

Continued (Allie jumped to her feet (comma missing) rushing to the couch where I lay…)

Next (Allie screamed out in panic; slapping me across the face (comma missing) causing my eyes to snap open wide as I gasped out in desperation for air.)

And that’s just in the first few pages.

It’s also very wordy. For example, take that last sentence. It would be better with fewer words, for example: (“Maria! Wake up!” Panicking, Allie slapped me hard. My eyes snapped open and I desperately sucked in air.”)

If I read the book right now, I would not be able to get through it because of the myriad grammar mistakes and errors. No matter how good the story was, I couldn’t give it above 3 stars because of that. Do you still want me to review it, even if I have to give it a low rating?

THEIR RESPONSE: Well first things first, no I will not continue with the review. It has nothing to do with the fact that I believe my book would or would not receive a good review from you. It is due to numerous factors. First and foremost the manner in which you approached me was very rude and pompous. You could have found a more tactful manner to address your concerns. Second, I understand you, yourself are an author therefore, I believe the so-called “myriad grammar mistakes and errors” is strictly your opinion due to your own writing style. I have two professional proofreaders and an editor that I contacted out of concern for your insulting comments and suggestions. I read them and found nothing wrong, however I wanted a professional’s opinion, which is why I contacted them. They informed me that they submitted the entire book has been submitted to two different grammar checking programs and neither one found an issue with those particular sentences.

Now, my suggestions for you are that perhaps you should enlist in the aid of a grammar checking program yourself before calling someone else out on their mistakes. If you are using one then perhaps it is time to find a new one. I would also like to say that if you want to receive more books for your review the last thing you should be doing is attacking and degrading the author by telling them how they should or should not word a sentence. You are not being asked to edit, you are being asked to review “the book and storyline”; not attack the author’s writing style. Needless to say this will not get you very far in the reviewing world. Just because a sentence is not worded the way you would write it, does not make it wrong. My writing style is very descriptive in order to pull the reader in and create a running movie in their head. I do not write in the manner that sounds like an 8th grader writing a book report.

Good luck in your endeavor as a reviewer.

 

So, I start out being blunt, brusque, pompous, or the adjective of your choice, but they’re the one who comes out of it with egg on their face. Not only do they show that they are SUPREMELY sensitive to any form of criticism (I think I actually gave solid advice on how to improve, not just slamming their work), but they believe in the infallibility of their own writing and team of editors.

Shakespeare would be shaking his head at the foolishness of this person. They believe they are wise and thus are unwilling to accept the criticism or comments of others. They come off looking like a total boob and an incompetent.

Writers, take heed: EVERYONE’S CRITISICM, CRITIQUE, AND FEEDBACK IS VALID!

You’re writing for a market, so if the market says, “Hey, I noticed this is a mistake”, it’s time for you to take notice. You don’t need to change your writing style just because someone doesn’t like it, but at least be willing to consider their advice–no matter what tone it is delivered in.

I’ve had my work torn to shreds, but when I didn’t get pissy or sensitive, I realized that the comments had some truth in them. I believe my writing has greatly improved because a few people were less than delicate with the way they critiqued my writing, and it’s why I go back for more every time I feel my writing is top-quality. A few criticisms, and I’m back to struggling to write my best. It helps me to avoid the complacency that comes with believing you are the “wise” man or woman you think you are!

Book Review: Escape by Lisa Williamson

It’s Book Review Wednesday, the day of the week where I get to share with you a book given to me to read. This week, we’re taking things into outer space with this space opera…

 

Escape

All Caro wants is to dance and to be with Adam but Masters Cyrus and Marshall have other plans for her. Dark plans that will change the fate of the universe. Can she escape those plans or will she be fed to the Demon’s Well? In a universe filled with alien races and advanced technology, humanity brought with it the ills of war, slavery and piracy.

Escape is the first of the League of Stars novels

 

My Review: 4 Stars

The book starts out a bit weak at first, with very little information on what’s going on in the first chapter. It takes a few pages to get into the story, but once you do, you’ll find you’re as hooked as I was.

The story is absolutely intriguing, and the scenario and setting are quite brilliant. It’s a story with all the right sci-fi elements, a touch of fantasy, and a bit more romance than I might have enjoyed. There were a few too many sex scenes in my opinion, but that’s just me.

There were a few more typos than I would have liked, and it definitely looks like it could have used a professional editor to fix things up–both in terms of proofreading and development. A lot of information is crammed into the story, and it could have been spread out over a few books. There is a bit of awkward phrasing sprinkled in, and the action scenes are VERY weak. The cover is also a bit iffy…

The emotions, however, are very strong, and it’s clear that the author’s strengths lie in her characters rather than her description. If the book was given the proper attention by a team of editors and proofreaders, I have no doubt it could become a best-seller.  It got 5 stars for the story, but only 3 stars for the writing.

The ending felt a bit disappointing–too neat and tidy for the real world. It is clearly meant to set up Book 2, but I feel it could have been a bit stronger and with more climax.

 

Here’s a Taste:

Caro ran down the corridor ahead of the Sweepers. Throwing a look back at each bend in the way, she managed to stay just out of their view. Dodging between the shoppers, under the long scraps of material that heralded what each tiny, hole in the wall shop specialized in, she moved from one tiny space to another with all the agility of a child.

The Sweepers were once more rounding up the young and masterless and it was clear they needed new females, females to breed up new warriors and to slave for the Masters. Caro refused to follow in her sister dancers footsteps, refused to be made a slave again. She needed to get off this station, onto a ship headed to a free world.

A few more twists and turns down tunnels that echoed with the mix of languages that made up the natives of the station. Cries of warning and of complaint mixed with the patios of commerce. She leapt high over a cart that had spilled in the middle of her path, briefly amazing those watching as she seemed to fly.

She flashed a tight grin and waved as she landed, a quick pirouette that she could not stop herself from doing. She rolled her eyes at her action and dashed off once more.  A few more twisting turns and she came to the concourse.

Slowing, she eeled her way into the crowd. Her size helped her blend into the crowd but she stood out for her ethnicity. Where most of those who lived and worked on this station were small with black hair and blacker eyes, she had a different shape to her face, her eyes large and round compared to the almond shape of those bred to this station.

She was dressed in her silks, a bright flash of color among a sea of black tunics and pants. A cardinal that stood out surrounded as she was by crows. She had to find Adam. Only with him did she feel safe from the Sweepers.

 

***

 

Inside Shankman’s Rest a voice swelled and captured the attention of those passing by. Full and masculine, it pulled people in and stirred things deep inside hearts that were locked down. He sang of sex and love and other things that the Masters had done their best to stamp out if not outright outlawed.

The listeners paired off and, in smoky corners, broke the laws of the Masters, by touching and caressing those not approved. His song was wild and rhythmic, full of power and need. The audience that wasn’t pairing off was surrounding the stage where the tall, dark-haired man sang. Dressed in black leather and blue silk, he mesmerized and teased. Both men and women looked at him like he was fresh meat and they were starving.

His song soared as he made love to the audience, giving them a light to their dark days and release. His eyes jumped from person to person, seeming to stroke them and tease them, but in reality searching for one face in the crowd, just one person. He hid his worry and poured more power into his words.

 

About the Author:

Lisa Williamson is a writer of odd cross genre fictional stories. With dozens of short stories, novellas and novels her fantastic worlds span the genres of fantasy, paranormal romance, science fiction, erotica and horror.

Her first publication was in the beginning of the Ebook movement with a short story and poetry collection from the 1990s. Writing in themes of self discovery, she mixes myths and legends from various cultures with a mystical bent. No matter that genre there will be a touch of romance, a sprinkle of nontraditional religions and a dash of enlightenment. He stories strive to let the reader open their mind to the wonder of the world around and within us.

Born and raised in Nashua, New Hampshire, she is currently living with her husband and daughter in Ontario, Canada. The change from one country to another has inspired her writing of both fantastical fiction and poetry.

Find the book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Escape-League-Stars-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00O30BD8Q/

Visit her website: http://themadwitersden.weebly.com/

Tweet at/to her: @suteko

Or get to know her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lisa-Williamson/362048140532220

Book Review: Heart of Desire by Kate Robinson

Bonus Book Review Saturday is up, and it’s time for a bit of romance–mixed in with plenty of sci-fi and weirdness, of course!

 

Heart of Desire

You heard nothing happened on December 21, 2012, right?

Not exactly.

Here’s where the cosmic shift began:

Tess Vaughn’s deepest desire is to give up romance and live a quiet life in rural Arizona. But when the former investigative journalist jogs into the arms of married presidential candidate Senator Harris Cantrell Henry, she finds trouble galore. Tess finds herself pregnant when she calls an end to the trysts. Her daughter Mikka’s paternity and precocious talents are secrets she knows she must keep.

On 11.11.2011, the hyped pre-2012 window of positive opportunity, President Henry announces his intention to engage the United States in the international fight against global warming. But his deepest desire to provide full disclosure of his contact with extraterrestrials remains an uneasy secret. When President Henry disappears, Tess’s fears for Mikka’s safety mount.

My Review: 4.5 Stars

While not a romance reader AT ALL, I found myself enjoying this book immensely. It wasn’t for the romance side of things, but it was for the complexity of the story.

The author seems to have a VERY firm grasp on politics, and has created characters that are surprisingly easy to relate to. From the main characters (Tess and President Henry) to the supporting characters (Paul, the Updikes, etc.), all of the people in this book seem like down-to-earth, realistic characters. No cardboard cutout characters here!

The writing is very strong for the most part, though there are a few spots where it weakens a bit. If Dan Brown, Danielle Steele, and John Grisham wrote a book together, this would be it.

The science fiction side of the book is actually surprisingly realistic, and very little of it sounds “made up”. It seems to be a very well-researched book, with a lot of different layers.

Half-way through the book, the president seems to suddenly change personalities, a switch I found a bit jarring. There is a lot of religion in the book (Christianity, New Age, and more), which I found a bit off-putting considering how important religion was in this sci-fi book. The ending is a bit trippy for my tastes, but overall the book was pretty darn good!

 

Here’s a Taste:

Huge, bulging black eyes floated toward President Harris Cantrell Henry and hovered inches from his face. He swiveled his neck to look away. Somehow those eyes rotated his aching head back from the blank wall and locked onto his eyes with magnetic ferocity.

Henry made another conscious effort to glance away. Beads of sweat sprouted from his forehead and cheekbones, but his gaze snapped right back to those terrible eyes.

You won’t remember this.

A chill shot through his spine. Someone was talking to him inside his own friggin’ head again. Those damned shape-shifting lizard reviewers who’d visited him some months before on Air Force One?

You will not remember anything.

The hair on the back of his neck pricked up. His second experience with telepathy, and it still jolted the shit out of him.

Like hell, he thought. I remember those lizards and I’m damn well gonna remember you.

Henry’s guts turned watery when he tried to focus through the haze. He could barely make out a single form bent over him, a narrow, gray face and exceptionally large almond-shaped black eyes. A peculiar iridescent glow emanated from them at particular angles, like large insect eyes caught in the sun.

If he’d been prone to religious fervor, he’d think he’d gazed into the eyes of God or the Devil. He stared into them again, suspecting what he’d heard was true, that ET abductees described those big black eyes as goggles or covers that protected vulnerable eyes. Still, they glowed hypnotically with life and purpose.

Henry’s heart almost burst from his chest when he tried to move again, pushing against the sticky sensation, like swimming upstream in molasses. Sleep paralysis? He’d awakened thinking he’d fallen asleep in the back seat of a limo, nested in soft leather, cozy and womb-like, but found himself strapped to this narrow, metal platform suspended at the edge of a drab, semicircular room.

Henry closed his eyes and tried to recall the sequence of events that brought him here. He remembered striding down a White House hallway, his mind churning out mental “to-dos” for his afternoon meetings.

The creature somehow forced his eyes open and recaptured his gaze, making him irresistibly sleepy again. He felt like a goofy cartoon character with eyelids propped open by sticks. All he could see for the next few minutes was a play of light and shadows caused by the twitch of his eyelids. When he finally managed to raise one eyelid to half-mast, figures swam above him as if he were peering through thick, frosted glass.

He found that if didn’t try to force his will on the situation, his surroundings came into clearer focus. At least he didn’t hurt, well, everything except his neck and head hurt, but he’d had chronic headaches for months. As he thought this, his entire body throbbed subtly with a massage-like undulation and he began to feel pretty good.

A pale hand with four spidery digits rose beside an oversized head positioned near Henry’s feet. The creature held a short wand of metal or shiny plastic with a globular end on top. Henry squinted at the variety of shimmery colors moving like northern lights inside the globe, but everything else still looked swimmy. Watching the changing flow of light soothed him. He began to like his placid, motionless position—how long had it been since he vegged out in comfort like this?

The creature continued to channel superfluous telepathic commands. Superfluous, because Henry found he involuntarily responded to the wand’s glow. The simultaneous telepathic commands made by the creature seemed unnecessary. Perhaps it thought humans felt more comfortable when addressed in their native tongue. It sounded contrived and mechanical, more like a computerized voice than anything real.

Without warning, the little bastard jerked him right out of his reverie. Holograms somehow appeared in the small space between the table he reclined on and the one nearby. Various three-dimensional scenes began to unfold in front of him. Assaulted by images of a dying Earth, the creature seemed to be accusing him of destroying the fragile planet through his complicity as a world leader. He puzzled over that for a moment, realizing he’d been told not to interfere with climate change.

He tried to shout, to stop the devilish picture show, but the creature just cocked its head as though showing deep interest. He wondered if the being projected this perception, because it had little facial musculature capable of expressing emotion and seemed to convey its curiosity telepathically.

The creature proceeded to turn up the emotional heat and observed his agony like a scientist observing wildlife. Worse, he thought, like a scat researcher probing an animal dropping.

The holographic images took on a personal note. He watched his wife and children starving, wasting to skin and bones until disease finally took them. Healthy friends and acquaintances dissolved like wraiths, ravaged by exotic diseases. Millions of people burned alive, screaming to ash in huge fires spewing across continents. He tried to close his eyes, to block his mind, rationalizing the visions as a test of his compassionate reaction to a possible future reality. His gut surged, knowing this path probable if greed and technology continued to outpace spiritual awareness. Suddenly he felt enraged by the creature’s manipulation and grieved by the solemn truth. Anger gave him the impetus to flex the muscles of his neck. His head wobbled from side to side.

The creature cocked his head in interest again. You are uncomfortable?

Henry tried his damndest to keep his mind blank. Hell yes, he sputtered, glaring up at those eyes with murder in his heart.

 

About the Author:

Kate Robinson began writing bad poetry in Des Moines, Iowa and continued to hone her writing chops in Arizona, California, Florida, Illinois, New Mexico, Wales, and Kenya, which serves her well as chief wordwhacker at Starstone Lit Services near Los Angeles. She is most interested in the appearance of the extraordinary in ordinary daily life and tries always to dance with paradox and absurdity.

Find the book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Desire-11-11-11-Kate-Robinson/dp/1500402281

Or Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/154178.Kate_Robinson

Kate likes to hang out on her two blogs: http://katerwriter.tripod.com, http://jellyfishday.blogspot.com

You can connect with her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/heartofdesire11.11.11Redux

Or Twitter: https://twitter.com/katerwriter

Writing Has Taught Me Perseverance

It’s amazing how much hard work goes into putting out a brand new book!

When I first sat down to write my first story, I had no idea the long, arduous process I would end up going through. By spending time writing, I’m definitely learning the hard lesson of persevering no matter how hard it is to keep plugging away.

Everyone loves their book when it’s in the rough draft phase. You’ve got the general idea of the book, you’ve outlined enough of the story to write the thing, and you’re putting your ideas down on paper. The story just flows up from the depths of your soul, and it is creation at its purest. Genuine bliss!

But once it’s done, that’s where the hard work comes in.

First draft, polishing the thing so that it’s as well-written as you can possibly make it. The pace of writing slows to a crawl because you’re agonizing over every word, trying to get it just right. The first draft is probably one of the hardest parts of the book, at least for me!

Then comes the second draft, after the beta readers have got their hooks into the book and told you “Boy, this bit sucks!” I basically had to rewrite 30% of The Last Bucelarii (Book 1): Blade of the Destroyer thanks to comments from my beta readers. That second draft was NOT easy, and it took a lot of work to get it finally write.

Of course, after that comes the arduous process of reading over every word myself and finding anything that stands out as odd or poorly worded. Once I finish reading the book and marking it all to hell with my red pen, it’s time to make those changes and try to fix the wording as best I can. Definitely not an easy task.

Finally, there’s the comments from the editors that need to be incorporated. This can take another few weeks/months, and by the time your book is actually ready to be published, you’re incredibly proud of the masterpiece you’ve put out until—god damn it, there’s a typo!

Writing (proper, professional writing, not just throwing books up on Amazon willy-nilly) is an arduous process that demands perseverance. Thankfully, all of the work is paying off, for the book is being picked up by a publisher. That won’t make writing Books 2 through all the rest any easier, but it proves that the perseverance is worth it.

The Secret of Change

Socrates said it right:

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”

Every New Year brings with it a good deal of change. I’m struggling with some changes I need to make in my life, primarily in my approach to my writing. 2014 was a pretty epic year for me, and 2015 looks like it’s going to be even more awesome–if only I can make those necessary changes.

I hate people who post vague statements (in a sort of attention-seeking manner), so I’m going to let you in on some of the changes I need to make in 2015:

I need to focus on my marketing/outreach efforts, not just writing. I love to write, but I HATE marketing. It’s so challenging for me to dedicate my one hour of writing time to promoting myself and my books, when all I want to do is write. But if I want to have any sort of success as a writer, I have to focus on marketing as well.

I need to get out of my “bubble of creation”. It’s hard to sit and write when there is noise or activity going on around me, when things need to get done, or when the kids are acting up. I tend to retreat into my little “bubble”, which makes it hard for the missus. I need to change that a bit, and not be so focused on my own wants (writing, in this case) that I fail to be a good parental/marital unit.

I need to work on my writing skills. I’m trying to change the way I write, improving both my writing skills and my approach to story-telling. I’ve written a few posts in the past about what I’m learning, but it’s darn hard to change the way I write. But it’s necessary to change in order to be a better writer.

These are some of the changes I NEED to make in 2015, but boy are they hard!

Yet that Socrates quote helped me realize what I need to do to change. It’s not about eliminating old bad habits completely, but it’s about building new good habits.

If I was to eradicate all of my bad habits BEFORE I started building the new ones, I doubt I’d ever get around to those new habits. This is a huge weight off my back, as now I realize I just need to work on forming new habits and they will automatically replace my old bad habits.

That doesn’t make it any less of a challenge or any less work, but it does make it easier for me to swallow. Instead of being overwhelmed by the thought of all the changes I’ll need to make in 2015, I can build those good habits one day at a time without worrying about my old habit.

Phew, 2015 may not be such a tough year after all!

Book Review: Pure Control by Clint Brill

It’s Book Review Wednesday, the day I get to share with you the great books I’ve read.

Today, we’re going to talk a bit of science fiction…

 

Pure Control

A strange room is unearthed during the building of an amusement park. With the room’s bizarre but inoperative knobs and gadgets, the amusement park developer believes it will make a great attraction for little kids. Unfortunately for the first group to enjoy the attraction, the room turns out to be something they never expected. The need to work together is vital, but the situation brings out the worst in the people involved. Giancarlo tries desperately to lead, but he’s frequently thwarted by Quinn. While the adults fight for control, the power rests with the children.

My Review: 3.5 Stars

I’m not a huge science fiction fan, but I was willing to approach this book with an open mind. The first chapter had my interest (I love a mysterious extraterrestrial object as much as the next guy), but from the moment the rest of the characters were introduced, my interest waned a bit.

For starters, there is A LOT of head-hopping (randomly changing POV without a break in the story). There is a lot of story going on, but there is no real sense of the character. There is almost no inner dialogue going on, nothing to show us what the characters are thinking or feeling beyond their facial expressions and words. For this reason, it’s hard for us to care about the characters, because we can never see through their eyes.

The wording also tended to push me out of the POV just as I was getting into the character’s frame of mind. That random switching of POV really made it hard to read, and it made it even harder to connect to the characters.

There was one scene where a character is alone in the dark, and that was the only time that I actually felt like I was in the character’s head. The rest of the time there is very little “sense of place”, and there was nothing to engage my senses.

Also, the characters are UBER-aggressive. While having one or two aggressive characters is understandable, it was like the entire book was one bad word away from having everyone knife each other. I almost expected there to be some alien mind-control causing all the aggression and anger, but it was just the characters. Not realistic at all, and this is coming from me–a fairly aggressive person by nature. Just too much testosterone.

That being said, the story’s twists and turns definitely surprised me, and I found it intriguing. I kept wanting the characters to explore more of the ship to see if they would find alien life, or if they were alone. The ending may have disappointed me, but the buildup to that point was pretty good.

 

Here’s a Taste:

Tori rubbed her shaking hands together. When she tried to speak she felt a hitch in her throat and she coughed slightly. She glanced at the others. “Nothing in this room is supposed to work,” she announced. “The lights and sounds are for show.”

Quinn shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Tori replied, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

“Bullshit,” Quinn snapped. “If it’s all just for show why did that door close? Someone touched something and the door closed on us. That doesn’t sound like just a show to me.”

Tori shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek. She winced with pain as she moved her injured wrist and tried to make it comfortable again. The hint of movement caused her to glance up in time to witness Quinn reaching down and grabbing her by the hair. She screamed as he yanked her to her feet and pushed her against the wall.

“Enough lies, bitch,” Quinn shouted, his face inches from hers. “Tell us how to open that fucking door!”

“Relax, Quinn,” Giancarlo told him. “There’s no need for that. and watch your language.”

Quinn glanced at him then stared at Tori. “Answer me!”

“I can’t,” she cried. “I don’t know how to open the door. It shouldn’t have closed to begin with.”

“Quinn!”

“What?” Quinn snapped, releasing Tori and letting her slip to the floor as he turned to see Giancarlo standing a couple of feet away.

“No more violence,” Giancarlo said. “Hurting people isn’t going to get us out of here. We have to stay calm.” Without waiting for a response, he knelt next to Tori and helped her sit up. “How do we open the door?”

Tori shook her head and looked at Quinn. “I already told you. I have no idea how to open the door. It was open when they found it.”

“What are you talking about?” Quinn asked, taking a step closer to Tori. She huddled against the wall and raised her knees to her chest. “What do you mean the door was open when they found it? Who found it?”

Tori hid her face in her knees and her shoulders bounced as she sobbed quietly. Giancarlo reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Tori,” he said, using the softest voice he could manage, “what aren’t you telling us? Where did this room come from?”

Tori rocked back and forth as her shoulders shook. She glanced at Giancarlo. She wiped her face with her uninjured hand and took a deep breath. “Two years ago, when they were building the park, the construction crew found this place. It was sticking out of the side of the slope. The door was open. Nothing in here worked, no matter what they tried. They decided to make it into an attraction.”

“She’s lying,” Quinn said.

Giancarlo looked at him and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve done enough questioning in my time as a cop. I think she’s telling the truth. At least, she believes what she’s saying.”

“That’s it then,” Quinn declared. “We’re screwed.”

 

About the Author:

Author C. Lloyd Brill lives in California with his girlfriend and ten cats. When not writing he enjoys reading and cross-stitching as well as hiking and star-gazing. As a former Marine, he supports, and will donate a percentage of all proceeds to, the Wounded Warrior Project. He also contributes to anthologies that benefit other worthy charities.

You can find the book on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1h4fIPz

As well as on Barnes and Noble: bit.ly/1l5z3DO

Talk to him via Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/C-Lloyd-Brill-Author/274230026061204

Or send him a Tweet: @CLloydBrill