Tales From the Spam Folder . . .

Happy Friday everyone! Casey here.
Today, rather than the usual blog post, I’d like to try something different. And it’s going to require audience participation (that means you, dear readers). Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise.
The other day, I was cleaning out the spam folders for my blog and the Scribes. Normally, spam is a bunch of gibberish or poorly written attempts to sneak past Akismet (WordPress’ s filter program).
But on this day, I found something a bit different. A hidden gem that teased my imagination. The Scribes have talked about doing some type of round robin and I think this bit-o-spam would be a perfect start.
So here is how this will work. I am going to present the spam exactly as I found it. Then, I’m going to add my two cents. Next, each commenter is going to add  what they think happens next. The following person is going to build onto whatever the previous commenter has written. And so on. . . .
Let your imagination run wild. Feel free to add dialogue, more characters or whatever strikes you!
Hopefully by day’s end, we will have an interesting bit of story. And, I suspect this may be from a movie, so if anyone has any guesses, throw them out there.
Here is the spam: SMITH: Well, well, it’s been a long time. I remember chasing you was like chasing a ghost.
And away we go:
“Well, well, it’s been a long time. I remember chasing you was like chasing a ghost,” said Smith.
<here’s what we have so far>
Lady Tansy Mumford sipped her tepid and tasteless tea, unwilling to rise to the comment. Mr. Edward Smith, the most odious of men, stared expectantly, his forehead shiny and sleek in the afternoon sun. Was it wrong for a lady of her genteel upbringing to wish harm upon another? After all Mr. Smith was only pursuing her for one thing.
That’s because I am a ghost, and I’m going to haunt you until the end of your days. Accident, smackccident. You murdered me and I won’t rest til the day you join me. With a horrendous cackle, the translucent image of Smith’s ex-wife faded.
“Jesus,” said Smith to himself. I have to stop mixing antacids with wine. The combination not only gives me gas, but hallucinations, too.
Smith, his eyes ablaze, turned to the tap on his shoulder. He opened his mouth, his hand fell across his lips and he took a gulp the size of Niagara Falls. He reached out to touch the wisp of his wife . . .
“I swear, Sarah, it was an accident. I never meant to hurt you.” Smith’s arm fell to his side as he slowly backed away from his wife’s apparition.
“It seems your sins are catching up with you, Smith,” said Lady Mumford as she regarded him over the rim of her tea cup.

“So many sins,” she continued. “Remember that time you bought me a carpet cleaner for my birthday? Or those numerous times you clipped your toe nails in the bed? And the toilet seat! Do you know how many times I have fallen into that wet cold water? Oh, I’m going to haunt your ass, I’m going to annoy you so bad that you’ll go crazy and no other woman will want you.”

But ghost or not, you will not escape me. I will find you. I will fill your email box with offers for v@aagra and beutifull babes pron. You have no way to leave me behind except to change your email address, and that is only a temporary solution. We shall track you to the ends of the earth.

Cheater, Cheater

Sorry I can’t tell you where my secret lair is. I can tell you it’s not full of high-tech gadgets, cannisters of brightly colored knockout gas (so useful!), not even a really cool car. It’s just me, my cat, and my trusty HP laptop. Occasionally my manservant (husband) will bring me a cup of excellent coffee, but he absolutely refuses to wear the apron and black-rimmed glasses I’ve provided for him, nor will he feather-dust my bust of Shakespeare. Good help is so difficult to find. Sigh.
So what am I writing? By now most of you probably know about National Novel Writing Month, which is always in November. (If not, check out www.nanowrimo.org). Fifty thousand words in a month is doable–I’ve done it–but it’s a stretch for me. Six to eight hundred words a day is more comfortable. This year I got the brilliant idea to cheat! My devious brain told me that if I started on October 1 and wrote 800 words a day, I could complete my work-in-progress by November 30. So far, I’m on track, and it feels great.
I’m also experimenting with working on two projects at once. That contemporary romance novel I wrote for NaNo two Novembers ago? Well, it needs quite a bit of help. A lot is salvageable though, and once I broke down and asked for plotting help from my friends, I figured out just how to fix it. So I’m alternating between the two WIPs–I can read four or five novels simultaneously and keep the stories straight. Theoretically, I should be able to do the same with writing. I’ll report back on the results in a couple of months.
So, are you a cheater? A Loner, Dottie? A Rebel? Or do you follow the rules?

[Film] PaperBoy

Deux journalistes reviennent dans leur ville natale pour enquêter sur la prochaine exécution d’un prisonnier, incarcéré sans preuves fondées. Désireux de se faire connaître en tant qu’investigateurs, ils veulent prouver son éventuelle innocence.
Pour cela, ils rencontrent Charlotte, qui est bizarrement tombée amoureuse du détenu par courrier et va les aider dans leur quête de la vérité. Et le jeune frère de la famille, Jack, qui leur sert de chauffeur dans leurs déplacements. Mais Quand Jack tombe amoureux de Charlotte, prouver l’innocence de cet homme au comportement grossier et agressif devient une source d’interrogation.

La campagne profonde
Le petit plaisir de ce film vient de cet environnement que je qualifie certainement maladroitement de campagne profonde. A une époque où les noirs commençaient à peine à être un peu accepté dans les grandes villes, la campagne restait encore bien sur ses acquis. Les nègres étaient avant tout là pour servir les blanc, et la population d’anciens s’accrochait à cet état de fait avec hargne.

Et surtout, cliché réel ou exagération, je ne saurais le dire, mais la campagne profonde est clairement montrée comme une population au QI bien bas, du genre à se marier en famille pour ne pas élever le niveau et à traiter les femmes comme des putes ou des bonniches, au choix. Une ambiance sordide très bien rendue. Le ton n’est jamais parodique et pourtant les clichés semblent énormes. Un naturel mis en place grâce à des acteurs talentueux, notamment, la belle Nicole Kidman, qui n’a pas hésité à salir son image pour l’occasion.

Voilà bien une actrice que l’on associe facilement aux strasses et paillettes ou au moins à un univers propre sur lui. Dans Paperboy, elle montre avec talent qu’elle peut parfaitement incarner l’opposé. Charlotte, bien qu’étant perçu par les autres personnages comme une belle femme, est à nos yeux perçu comme une femme vulgaire, aux manières crues. Une fille de la campagne qui s’habille comme une catin pour avoir l’air de venir de la ville. Je sais, j’ai l’air médisant dans mes propos, mais vous voyez en gros le tableau. Et il faut avouer que le rôle lui va comme un gant. Passant son temps à mâchouiller son chewing-gum la bouche ouverte et à coucher pour obtenir les faveurs masculines, on va aller jusqu’à la voir pisser sur quelqu’un qui s’est fait piquer par une méduse ou mimer une scène de baise (bouche ouverte façon fellation) au parloir de la prison pour exciter le détenu. Une scène crue et dérangeante à souhait qui fonctionne parfaitement et nous met vite mal à l’aise.

Un résultat mitigé
Mais malgré cela, la mayonnaise ne prend pas vraiment. Les scènes s’enchaînent sans réel engouement pour le spectateur. Le suspense sur la culpabilité du prisonnier est quasiment absent, et le devenir des personnages pourtant bien maltraités n’émeut pas plus que ça. Je ne saurais dire si c’est la mise en scène un peu molle qui plombe l’entrain ou le scénario qui s’avère beaucoup trop maigre, mais on est au final assez frustré de ne pas voir ces personnages mieux exploités.

En particulier à la fin du film qui choisit une voie bien sordide une fois de plus (un peu trop, même), qui devrait nous remplir d’indignation, de dégoût, de colère, même, peut-être. Mais non, on assiste à tout cela sans se prendre au jeu, et l’absence de réelle confrontation finale clôt l’ensemble avec un manque cruel de punch.

Un film en demi-teinte donc, qui aurait pu être bien meilleur, mais mérite tout de même un visionnage de curiosité, un jour à l’occasion d’un DVD prêté, pour apprécier la belle Nicole Kidman en femme de mauvais goût.

PS : le prisonnier s’appelle Hilary, et comme j’ignorais que c’était également un prénom d’homme je ne comprenais absolument pas la bande annonce et le début du film. Bon à savoir.

Work Life Balance

Hiddey-Ho there Scribblers ~ J Monkeys coming atcha from sultry northern Connecticut.  Fellow Scribe, Jennifer Fusco posted on Facebook that she’s going to be tackling the subject of Work-Life Balance in some kind of public forum coming up and that got me to thinking…and trying out a balancing method that’s worked well for me in the past. 
Well, it worked on vacation…sure that’s a potential stumbling block, but I put it into practice today to see what might come of it, to surprising results.
Have you ever seen this movie?  It’s a Hugh Grant flick from a few years back.  Now I’m a huge Hugh fan…I have him singing from Music and Lyrics on my iPod and I thought the Pirate Captain from the recent kids movie Pirates had his speech cadence even though it sounded nothing like him.  Turned out I was right.  I’m that kind of dedicated fan.  Mr. Grant, you are welcome. 
Now this isn’t one of my favorites of his films, (that would probably be Music & Lyrics or Love Actually) but there is an interesting bit where he breaks the day down into 30 minute units.  Hugh’s character is a middle-aged rich kid living off the fortune left him by his one-hit-wonder father.  He’s idle and bored – hence the need to fill his time in manageable pieces.
So Hugh lives 30 minutes at a time.  Sometimes he’d spend two units on something, like racquetball or something.  I tried this on a WICKED restful vacation a number of years ago (pre-kid.)  I spent 5 days at a dude ranch in Arizona.  We woke up and spent a unit at breakfast when Cookie rang the triangle, then went for a 3-unit trail ride, took a unit long nap, ate lunch for another unit or two, napped another unit away, rode for a couple more units, frolicked in the pool for a unit, ate again – supper was at least two units, then played games until it was time spend a unit or more staring at a night sky filled with more stars than I’ve ever seen before or since.  I’ve never been so rested.  It was GREAT!  We lived one unit at a time.
So – today, I spent my free time (read that as kid-free time when I can actually accomplish something) by units.  I set the oven timer for 2 units (an hour for the math challenged) and did random housework.  When the timer buzzed, I set it again for another 2 units.  I spent these units working on a project for which I actually get paid (exciting thing!).  Upon buzzing, I put that project away and spent a unit inputting edits to my DIY Publishing book, then a unit folding four loads of laundry.  Finally, I spent a unit on lunch with a side order of  The West Wing (the Supremes from Season 5, one of my favorites) and headed out to the kids’ school for a few hours of volunteer time.
Now, I didn’t accomplish much of any one thing, but I did touch on many of the things I need to work on – housework, stuff I get paid to do, writing and not unimportantly, some me time.  That is what I call work-life balance, people.  Sure I have an overwhelming amount of stuff still on my plate, but hey – it was a good day!
Today’s secret: Sometimes, wisdom comes in strange places…or when you’ve got 30 different things to do – breaking your time up into focused chunks can help you keep those plates spinning.

Writing is My Life…Finally by Terry Spear

Happy Friday everyone! Casey here with a big welcome back to USA Today best seller Terry Spear! Stay tuned until the end of the post to read an excerpt and for a chance to win a copy of Terry’s latest book SAVAGE HUNTER.
Thanks to 7 Scribes for having me back! Casey asked me to talk about quitting my day job. So here goes:
In the beginning, like not quite during the dinosaur age, but close, when we were still submitting manuscripts on typewriters and there was no such thing as personal home computers or cell phones, even, I was writing stories for publication (children’s stories back then) and getting rejected. A couple went to senior editors, but still the rejections came.
Undaunted, I switched from children’s stories to western historical romance because I love westerns and I love romance and happily ever after. I heard that romances sell better than children’s stories unless you have an agent. And getting one is harder than getting published.
So I merrily went about writing my first historical western romance. And when I was done, I learned historical romances are hard to sell. Western romances are the hardest.
This taught me a couple of things. If I wanted to become a published author—and I did at that point beyond a doubt. I knew I would do anything to write the book someone wanted so that I could support myself with just my writing—I had to write. Constantly.
It taught me to take chances on writing for different lines that had recently opened up: Comedy Romance, Fantasy Romance, Bombshell, YA, you name it. Every time a new line with an established company started, I wrote a story for them.
The first time I got picked up, two of my YA were bought. The company paid advances, but then two years later, and only one month before my first book released, they closed the YA line. But it was a new line and they were buying. Until they closed it. I did keep the advances, so that was the good thing.
Then I got another break. Sourcebooks was one of those companies that had just started to request manuscripts. They had bought two historical romances written by NY Times bestselling authors. And then they picked up ME for Heart of the Wolf, urban fantasy romance.
I wasn’t the only one that was picked up about that time. Some of us are still with them from the beginning, and some are not. It was interesting when I went to Anaheim this year with the RWA Conference, I was one of their first authors, and proud to be. They gave me the break I truly needed when agents were rejecting me and when many of the NY pubs were saying—“close, but no cigar.”
With my 9^th release, A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing, Finn Emerson is one hot sexy SEAL wolf, I made USA Today bestseller in March!!!
But last year, I tried my hand at self-publishing. Remember all those books I wrote for publishers while trying to find a home for one? Tons and tons and tons of books? My critique partners who are still with me after eight years, used to joke that I would someday take a U-Haul truck filled with manuscripts and sell them all at once to NYC.
Well, it didn’t happen quite like that. I self-published 24 titles and for the first time in the years I’ve been published, I made enough to quit my day job. I’d been working 40 hours at the day job, and 40-45 hours in all my spare time before work, after work, and on my two days off trying to keep up with writing, editing, and promotions—all with the goal that one day I could quit and write all 80 of those hours per week!!!
And I did it. August of this year, I was writing full time and loving it.
It took me a lot of years to get here. Sixteen, in fact. The key to success for me was to keep writing. To never give up. I actually have 45 published novels or novellas out and many more that I’ve written that need major revisions before they’re publishable. And many more that I’ve started that need to be finished. So you see, all that time spent writing for all those years wasn’t wasted.
With any job, we have to be dedicated to it. I’ve treated my writing as a full-time job even when I had a full time job. I have goals I set, deadlines I have to meet. I had so many this past month, even without a full time job, I was having a time keeping up. I had a book due Sept 15, Oct 15, and 40,000 words worth of blogs due by mid-September.
I have another book I’ll need to be revising soon. It’s all doable. I set goals. I finished both of the other books early and turned them in. And then I began to tackle the 30 guest blogs. Four a day, in a week they’ll all be done.
And then? It’s back to writing.
Which is great! Because for all those years, that’s exactly what I wanted to be doing! Creating stories for the world full time.
In SAVAGE HUNGER, Connor Anderson has one goal, get Kathleen McKnight, former Army officer, back to civilization before his sister turns her! Everyone should have a goal, don’t you think?
What would you do if you decided Connor was just the kind of man you wanted in your life, but he wasn’t willing to turn you?
Thanks so much to 7 Scribes for having me here today, and one lucky person that answers my question will have a chance to win a copy of SAVAGE HUNGER.US/Canada Addresses Only.
Terry – thanks so much for being our guest today! Remember Scribes’ fans, answer the question for a chance to win a book!
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About the Author

USA Today bestselling and an award-winning author of urban fantasy and medieval romantic suspense, Terry Spear also writes true stories for adult and young adult audiences. She’s a retired lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserves and has an MBA from Monmouth University. She also creates award-winning teddy bears, Wilde & Woolly Bears, that are personalized that have found homes all over the world. When she’s not writing or making bears, she’s teaching online writing courses or gardening. Her family has roots in the Highlands of Scotland where her love of all things Scottish came into being. Originally from California, she’s lived in eight states and now resides in the heart of Texas. She is the author of the Heart of the Wolfseries and the Heart of the Jaguar series, plus numerous other paranormal romance and historical romance novels. For more information, please visit www.terryspear.com, or follow her on Twitter, @TerrySpear.

SAVAGE HUNGER by Terry Spear

She heard something moving toward her from behind. The hair at the nape of her neck instantly stood at attention. Her heart was already tripping. She was afraid it was him—the cat with the deep, angry, growly voice. She knew the big cats moved silently through the jungle. She imagined the cat would appear before she would even be prepared to face him. And then what?
Turning slowly, she looked to see who or what it was. An armed man? Or a toothy jaguar?
She saw the most beautiful creature she had ever chanced to see up close—way too close. A huge jaguar. No fence or moat to keep him from her, like at a zoo. Her skin chilled, and her heart thumped erratically.
As much as she’d wanted to see one, she hadn’t quite thought to observe one like this. If he did belong to Connor, she didn’t see any sign of the man. Which meant this one could be a real danger.
In the back of her mind, she wanted to pull her camera out of her bag and take a picture, take a hundred pictures. That was just plain crazy. She stayed porcelain-statue still, afraid any sudden movement would trigger him to pounce. She had envisioned watching one swimming in a river or maybe drinking water at a riverbank. She’d thought she might catch sight of one lounging in a tree while she watched from a nice, safe distance, but not on the prowl like this while she was standing in its path.
Her heart still pounding out of bounds, she stared at the jaguar, which had the most beautiful golden eyes and matching golden body covered in large black rosettes. His belly was white and covered with more rosettes. His long whiskers bristled. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air, taking a whiff of her scent, she was certain, although there wasn’t a whisper of a breeze with all the vegetation surrounding them. Was he trying to smell just how tasty she might be? Despite the muggy heat, a chill raced down her spine.
His eyes were round, fully watching her as he stood frozen in place. His tail twitched, jerking back and forth in a tight motion, just like her cat’s would when she watched a bird on a tree branch near the living room window. Her cat’s eyes would be just as huge as the jaguar’s and her body just as tense, ready to pounce on her prey if she could have gotten beyond the glass windowpane.
Don’t move, Kathleen screamed silently to herself. He is curious. Just curious. You are not dinner.
Who was she kidding? All she could think of was the Indian word for jaguar, yaguar, meaning “he who kills at one leap.” Looking at the way that he was standing so still, she wondered if he was thinking about it. He wasn’t in pouncing form, crouched, ready to leap, but maybe he was waiting for her to run, offering more sport that way.
They would eat deer and tapirs. Why not a tasty woman?
Then to her shock, she heard another growl. This one came from behind her. Yet the jaguar was still standing in front of her, and he hadn’t made a sound. Her skin grew a fresh rash of goose bumps.
Maybe he wasn’t a he, but a she, and her nearly full-grown cub was behind Kathleen, coming for dinner. Or maybe this one was a he—he looked awfully big not to be, around six feet in length and weighing, she guessed, around two hundred and fifty pounds—and the other was his mate. How big was the other, then?
If they were mating, maybe Kathleen was needed to keep them well fed for another bout of tying it on. That didn’t improve her outlook on the situation in the least. The only thing she could hope for was that they had the hots for each other, and one human wouldn’t distract them that thoroughly. Maybe that’s why they had been roaring. As a love call. Or maybe he would think Kathleen was a threat to his mate.
She hoped both cats had recently eaten and that she wasn’t about to be on the menu.
He slowly walked toward her. She had to tell herself that was because the other jaguar was somewhere behind her with Kathleen inconveniently in between the two of them.
She wanted desperately to dash off. But she couldn’t outrun a big cat that could take her down with one leap. Not to mention that if she turned and bolted, she would probably run straight into the other jaguar.
She meant to glance behind her for a tree that she could reach and quickly climb, but when she looked over her shoulder, she saw the other cat. And her heart nearly stopped. Her breathing definitely did.
Smaller, though not by much, the second jaguar observed her with the same golden eyes and had the same golden coat with black rosettes and the same hungry look. This was so not good.

The Heart’s Discovery by Amy McGuire

Amy McGuire has been writing stories since she could pick up a pen.  She developed a love of English Literature at a young age and as the child of missionary parents who worked in Africa, has gained a rich knowledge of the world around her.  When not writing, she enjoys spending sunny afternoons on her deck with some chocolate and a good book.  Amy lives in Toronto with her husband and their daughter.  The Heart’s Discovery is her first novel. And Amy is here at the Scribes today.
Welcome Amy! We are glad to have you.
Can you tell is if you have ever thought about writing something that is completely different for you?  Perhaps writing in a new genre or just taking a story someplace that you haven’t done before.
Absolutely.  I actually already have a few different genres in mind.  I tell my friends and fans that I didn’t choose YA, it chose me.  So of course I write it now but I would love to write something else in the future.  I already have at least two sci-fi stand alone novels plotted out in my head as well as a clean adult romance.  My book about Damian entitled Runaway: Damian’s Story , which I hope to release in February 2013, is also going to be in a direction I’ve never taken before.  There will be a tiny bit of romance, but a lot of action, tragedy…a much darker book than any I’ve written.  It will be different and a real challenge but I think I’m up to the task.  When I was a teenager I wrote a love story that had a lot more action and Runaway: Damian’s Story will be an action book with a little bit of romance.  I’m looking forward to really getting into the plotting out of all my different books in various genres.
What is the most surprising thing that has happened in your writing career?
I would say that the most surprising thing was the feedback.  I know I’m new to the scene and have a lot to learn in the writing field but so many people, those who know me personally and those who don’t know me at all, have said how impressed they are with my writing.
What would you do if you couldn’t be a writer any longer?
I would probably try for a fairly well paying job that would allow for flexibility so I could travel.  There are so many places on this wonderful planet that I’m dying to see.  I am a mom and so I would have to make my travel include my daughter and her schedule, but I can definitely see myself doing a lot of travelling during the holidays.  A place I have never been but would love to go is Jamaica.  Ireland is a definite close second.  It’s a big dream, but I don’t think it’s entirely undoable.
They say that every author has a partially completed, quite-possibly-terrible half a story shoved in a drawer somewhere.  What is yours?  What is it about?  What makes it terrible?  Would you ever consider picking it up and finishing it?
Oh my.  Where to begin.  Yes, I actually have several.  Sadly, I threw out all but a sequel to one of my half written stories back when I was too embarrassed to have anyone read them.  I looked at them and went, ‘what was I thinking?’  I had one story that was a romance, thriller, crime, drama and the genres it filled were endless.  I could never come up with a decent ending and by the time I got to what I considered ‘the end’ I thought it was absolute drivel.  I probably should have had someone else look at in hindsight, but that’s in the past.  I had another book I wrote that I liked so much I began to write the sequel and then dropped it when life got too busy.  I wrote it as a sort of therapy for myself and to try my hand at drama.
Reading it a few times over though depressed me.  I think possibly because the two main male characters in the story reminded me too much of two friends of mine and I had killed one off.  I don’t like killing characters in my book but do so if the story calls for it.  Back when I wrote the book entitled ‘The Bully Slayers’ I didn’t have the same perspective on character killing as I do now.  I also got way too close to my characters.  I would like to go back and dig up the book if I can still find it.  I would love to just have it to archive.  I don’t know if I would ever resurrect it fully, but I might include elements of it in my other YA books.
Author Jane Haddam says that anyone who seriously annoys her gets bumped off in her next book.  How do you incorporate your real-life experiences into your stories?
Very carefully [laughing].  It can be very easy to let my personal life slip into my stories and then do damage to my characters.  And if I’m not very, very careful the people I base my characters off of can pick up on that character being very similar to them and become offended.  Aside from bad days though, I do incorporate my life into my stories a lot.  The Heart’s Discovery is a good example.  There are a lot of scenes that are based off real experiences I had living in the basis for HopeValley.  Nearly all my characters are based on people I actually knew at the time as well as elements of the location.  I even have a section in my ebook version that is strictly photographs taken of ‘the real HopeValley’ while I lived there.  I find it brings some realism to the story.

I also find that pretty much anything can inspire me if I’m in the right mood.  An example is my Wii.  I try to work out on it for weight loss and general health as often as possible and there is a section in Wii Fit Plus that is rhythm boxing.  I have a little note in my notebook for one of my later novels, suggesting how I can incorporate boxing into the story.  A food I’ve never tried before or a place I’ve never been but want to visit can also become inspiration.  Quito, Ecuador is a good example.  In researching it for my novel I fell in love with the city and country.  I definitely want to travel there someday.
What is your junk food of choice?
Chocolate.  It’s my kryptonite.  There’s something just so calming and like a mini vacation in even the smallest amount of chocolate.  My favourite desserts and drinks contain chocolate and I can’t imagine a world without it.  I like white chocolate and milk chocolate but of the two, milk is my favourite.  Sadly, since it’s super fattening, I have to limit how much I have, but when I do get some, it’s a tiny slice of heaven.
Tell us about your book!
The Heart’s Discovery is a love story based in British Columbia with a brief foray into Quito.  Anjaline is a native of Quito, Ecuador and Gabriel is a native of Hope Valley, British Columbia.  You couldn’t meet two teenagers more different and yet they find a common ground in their mutual attraction.  Of course, being teenagers and having low self esteem on both sides, they deny their feelings and further complicate each other’s lives.  Jealousy from friends and family threaten to destroy any chance of friendship, let alone something deeper.  A story of growing up in the harsh mountain country of British Columbia, there are moments of frustration, anger, joy, tenderness and tragedy.  As the book is a love story, the ending should be predictable yet it’s not.  The ultimate romance between the characters is inevitable, but all the twists and turns it takes to get there is not.  The ending will surprise you.

Starting Something New…

Up until a few days ago I hadn’t written anything new for months. I was stuck in edit land, learning new things about myself as a writer. Getting edited by a professional editor is different that going through the revision process by yourself. When you’re revising everything is your call. Your decision. It’s only your book, but when you get a revision letter from an editor it’s different… It’s hard to explain. It’s like the book becomes bigger than itself, because getting that letter reminds you that you’re one step closer to releasing your baby into the world.

Every book has flaws, sometimes fatal flaws and as writers we know what the flaws are in our work, but having somebody else point them out is almost painful. Some writers love going through the editing process. They say it takes a mediocre book and makes it into a good one. But a lot of us don’t feel that way. A lot of us turn that book in and pray that our editor won’t see the flaws, that we’ll be able to skate by without having to fix things.
But that never happens. Those smarty pants editors always see the flaws and they send you a letter highlighting them. You read the letter and each point they make is like a little stab in the heart. Why? Because all the points are valid. They are never the little things that are easily fixed, like random spaces before punctuation. They are big things. Things that you knew were off when you sent the book in. They weren’t things you didn’t fix because you were lazy, they were things you didn’t fix because you didn’t know how.
So you read the letter and read the letter again and reread it twenty more times, hoping that magic will happen and you’ll suddenly know how to fix everything. But that rarely happens. It’s weeks of thinking and writing and rewriting and being stuck in your head. A lot of times it takes talking to another writer to make things clear, sometimes things will clear up by themselves.
And then one day you’re done. The book is as fixed as it’s going to get and you send it back to your editor. You feel free then, joyful almost. That weight has been lifted off your shoulders. But that feeling only lasts a few minutes because now that means that you have got to start something new.
Crap.
I was talking to fellow Scribe, Jennifer Fusco on Facebook the other night. We are both starting something new. And I had been feeling panicky/ anxious all week. I had a thousand thoughts running through my mind, a thousand scenes, a hundred lines of dialog that could go in my book but I had no direction. Where is this book going? What am I doing? What am I writing?
It may sound a little mean but I was glad to see that Jen was going through it too, because I realized that I was not alone in my pain. And if she felt that way and I felt that way, then there must be more of us out there who feel that panic when they are faced with something new.
And I think that’s why joining a writer’s group/ connecting with other writers is invaluable. If you get nothing else out of it, the feeling you are not alone in your pain is enough. :)
So… It’s your turn. How do you feel about starting something new? Is it all rainbow and sunshine? Or cloudy days and crying? How do you feel about the editing process? Can you relate? Any and all comments are welcome.

Anthologies Abound

PJ Sharon, here. Another Tuesday has come upon us—much too quickly in my opinion. If you haven’t noticed how time is flying by, you have either been in prison, or have been living in a cave. Not to poke fun, but it really does seem like our days are short a few hours. The energy is all but frantic around me, and everyone is hustling to keep pace. With recreational time at a premium, there has been a resurgence in the popularity of short stories, and writers are jumping on board to meet the needs of readers to have a quick story fix.
This is good news for writers. It not only offers us a chance to perhaps try something new, short stories are a great way to keep readers interested and entertained in the long months between full-length releases. Although I’ve never been one to write short stories, when the opportunity arose to collaborate with other authors, I happily accepted the challenge.
Since D.D. Scott began her “All for Indies” Anthologies last year, I’ve noticed lots of Indie-published authors following suit…and readers are loving it. What better way to get a taste of a new author’s style or to have several quick reads available in one, very affordable book. Here are a few treats you might like for Halloween.
I’m excited to be a part of this project with some very excellent storytellers. My short story prequel to WANING MOON is among these spooky shorts just in time for All Hallows Eve. SOUL REDEMPTION gives readers a peek inside the mind of Lily Carmichael’s thirteen-year-old brother Zephron, who has to deal not only with teenage hormones, but a dark power that threatens to take him over–a very creepy prospect indeed. This 15,000 word short story leaves you asking, “What would I do?” Read the first chapter on WATTPAD.
In honoring D.D. Scott’s “Great books at great prices” motto, this anthology is available for .99 cents at Amazon, and Smashwords.
If that isn’t enough to set off your fright meter, here are some more fabulously written short stories for your speed-reading pleasure.
Many of my friends from the WG2E Street team contributed to this one and I have to say, they did an amazing job scaring the heck out of me as I read by Kindle light all alone in my big old farmhouse in the woods while my husband was traveling. I know…crazy, right? But don’t we all love a bit of suspense and ghoulishness this time of year?
Tales from the Mist is available on Amazon for $4.99, a bargain for these ten creepy stories by ten fabulous authors! Check out the book’s Amazon page for details on contributing authors and their stories.

The Way We Were

Thea Devine here, basking in the glow from having attended my 50th high school reunion.  Honestly, I never thought I’d want to go to any reunion.  Had second thoughts about that for my 25th, but I was a week too late.  So I made certain people knew where to find me for this momentous year.
50 years since high school.  FIFTY YEARS!!!  OMG!! That’s surreal. Can’t possibly be true.  It feels like I just graduated.   I’m still seventeen — aren’t I?   In my heart, soul, and day-to-day life I am. High school is just that close to the grain of who I was, who I became
But thinking about attending the reunion was kind of scary.  How would it all break out?  Would there still be the same cliques, the same alliances,  the same feelings, even?  Would I still feel like I was at the prom without a date?
In the end, none of that happened.  It turned out to be a lovely event.  One classmate (male) called it “endearing.”  It seemed as if my classmates picked up the conversation as if it were yesterday. There wasn’t a missed beat, once everyone identified themselves.  And husbands and wives who’d attended were folded in like they were old friends.  The conversation never ended; it just shifted from group to group as we performed a “let’s catch up” do-si-do.
You probably know how this all goes.  Football game, cocktail party, talk talk talk;  tour of the high school (greatly expanded since our day to the point where, given all the arts and music studios and shop choices, we all felt we wanted to go back );  lunch in the cafeteria (not greatly changed);  a visit with two former teachers, now in their eighties;  a disorienting tour of the town, wholly changed from when we lived there;  cocktail party #2 and a banquet, and more talk talk talk.
We received a Then and Now memory book with contact info and self-written biographies, and a mug commemorating the reunion packed with a bar of goats’ milk soap made by a classmate.  Pretty neat.
I wanted everyone to come home with me.  I loved seeing them all, I connected with several old friends and I hope we keep in touch.  A weekend seemed like too little time to bridge 50 years.  I wished it had been a week.  There was such a nice sense of cohesion and a recognition that we do have a shared history, and that neither time nor distance can take that away, whenever or wherever we might meet again.
You might wonder if I was even thinking  novelistically about childhood, secrets, mean girl alliances, hot and heavy romances, vicious hates, undying teen loves, and long simmering vengeance.
I told people I was.  I mean, really, why else was I there?
What do you think?
Have you gone to a class reunion?  What did you think?  Was it “endearing” or was it “enduring”?  Did you connect with or disconnect from former classmates?  Would you go to another (I would)?
Thea Devine is the author whose books defined erotic historical romance. She’s the author of 25 historical and contemporary erotic romances, including THE DARKEST HEART and the upcoming BEYOND THE NIGHT.  The reissue of her erotic contemporary romance, HIS LITTLE BLACK BOOK, is available now.