Review of Skins for Kindle

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Has anyone else seen these adorable protective covers for the Kindle?
These products by DecalGirl come in the most imaginative and gorgeous designs. This winter I ordered three DecalGirl covers to protect my new phone and absolutely love them. They are cheerfully colored, interchangeable, and made of hard plastic that will truly protect my phone from my klutziness and occasional foul temper. More, those little jewels only cost about $7.

When we acquired our Kindle this spring, I was excited, especially when we got to take it on its first road trip. As I was tossing the Kindle into my computer bag, I thought, "Ooo, that's going to get scratched or squished or otherwise mutilated." I looked up protective covers for it, but it was too late to receive anything I ordered before we left town. Still, I was thrilled to see that DecalGirl had some cutesie covers available and put several on my wish list. "$20?" I thought. "That's pretty steep, especially since the cover won't be much bigger than the cover for my phone. Gee, they're robbing people here. But I'm sure it will be worth it."

So, this last week I decided I better finally order one before I managed to drop this costly device on my new stained concrete floor. I chose the one pictured above b/c it's not too floofy and the Kindle is technically my husband's and I wasn't about to ask him to carry around cherry blossoms or something. I eagerly awaited the item in the mail and stopped by the post office just today to pick it up. In my box, what I found, to my consternation, was a flat envelope. "What is this? There's nothing in it?" I said (yes, I frequently talk to myself, especially when miffed).

I had to open it then and there to see if someone at the Amazon warehouse forgot to put the actual item in the envelope. Imagine my horror when I saw that, indeed, the item was present, and that I had paid $20 for a sticker. Yes! $20 gets you an adhesive vinyl sticker to stick to the back and front of your device.

I have just attached the thing to the back and find that the item does not want to stick at first and must be gently massaged to convince it that it wants to be there. But it does look smashing with the gray version of the device.

On the other hand, this "protective" skin can only possibly protect this expensive device from scratches and general wear. It will stand no chance if I happen to drop it on the stained concrete floor.

So I suppose, in summery, my greatest complaint is not that I failed to read the fine print, nor that this "protector" is in fact nothing more than a sticker, or that it should be advertised as merely decoration, but that this sticker is so abominably, ridiculously priced, especially when compared to the seven-dollar, fully protective covers for the phones. What gives? Demand, no doubt. Frivolous, but cute, and the Kindle is so in vogue; therefore, more people such as myself will no doubt run to snatch up these adorable, useless things and waste more of our money.

Enjoy!
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Progress Report, 7-21-11, and Tough Going

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I should wait to post this tomorrow, but today is one of those days when the words and I aren't getting along. So I've jotted down some dialog in the hopes that the scene will fall together more easily tomorrow. Therefore, I'm posting the week's progress a day early. I failed to post any kind of update last week, because I wrote so little that there was just no point. Not sure what happened there, but that means I am still working on the two chapters that deal heavily with ships, sailors, and battles at sea. I'm getting a bit seasick at this point and will be happy when I can move on. More, I'm not exactly sure where these two chapters will fall. The chronology is clear, but the placement at present seems ... ungraceful, if that makes sense. I dunno. So here goes:

THIS WEEK'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Revised: 8
Pages Cut: 3 2/3
New Scenes: 1 (the whole last half the second chapter will be all new material. The old version was boring. Went off in a completely new direction. Can I finish it tomorrow? Unlikely. So here's to next week on the open sea as well. Progress is going so slowly b/c I'm practically writing a new rough draft for a story that is a decade old. Ugh! I loathe writing rough drafts. It hurts.)
Bad Things that Happened: Two ships colliding never ends well.
Good Things that Happened: Athna is rescued by a pirate. Wait, how is that good?

But enough negativity. Progress is progress and every word is one step closer to completing the project. There's no way I'm gonna make my deadline. But isn't that a common story? Oh, wait, positive thinking ... positive ... positive ...
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I'm An Amazon Author!

I'm excited to announce that "Mists of Blackfen Bog" is finally available at Amazon. It only took a couple of weeks longer than what I anticipated. Figuring out formatting solutions in Word is not the easiest, but reverse engineering skills come in handy.

Digital copies for the Kindle may be found HERE. The print edition is found HERE.

I'm very excited about the print version. It's an adorable little volume that one can cuddle with. Really, it's no bigger than the Kindle itself, but just snugglier.

Progress And An Award!

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Progress is everywhere. Slowly but surely, the wall we've called Jackson has begun looking like stone again. We hope to knock even more paint away today. We shall conquer! In the meantime, the novel project is inching forward as well. A slow mighty galleon with all her sails unfurled flees time who chases her. That's a pathetic metaphor, but can anyone tell I've been researching old ships for this segment?

THIS WEEK'S PROGRESS:
Pages Revised - 11
Pages Cut - 7
New Scenes - 2
Items Researched - Naval battles, 18th Century. Only problem is, my novel takes place before a gun powder age, so adaptations in weapons is lots of fun. Primary resource: Patrick O'Brien's Navy: The Illustrated Companion to Jack Aubrey's World, by Richard O'Neill, editor. Next step: read a Jack Aubrey novel.
Bad Things That Happened - sails on fire is never good
Good Things That Happened - Athna's lure worked

In other news, Monica Mansfield of Storytelling & Me graciously bestowed upon me this blogger award! Cool!
Seven things about myself:
1. I collect prints of Waterhouse and Leighton art.
2. I've never read a Twilight novel or an Eragon novel, nor do I intend to.
3. I love the American Girl dolls.
4. I used to want to be an airplane pilot.
5. I'm terrified to venture into water where I cannot see what's under my feet.
6. I'm prone to acne, despite being 30-something. :(
7. The last name of my penname is a combination of my middle initial and my father's name.

Now to pass it on. I bestow the Irresistably Sweet Blog Award to:

1. (Anyone else having trouble with their followers not appearing on their page? When the follower service is functioning again, I will choose award winners.)
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3.
4.
5.
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"Mists" on Sale at Smashwords

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Smashwords is having their Summer/Winter Promotional Sale this month, and "Mists of Blackfen Bog" is enrolled to participate. So until July 31, the fantasy novella can be purchased for only 99 cents. Just follow this >LINK< to the novella's purchase page and use the following coupon code at checkout: SSW50 (that last digit is a zero, not an "O" by the way. Kinda hard to tell.)

Because I can't stand sounding like a commercial, here's some art to contemplate:

(anyone know the name or artist of this peaceful work?)

Japanese Traditional Art-16
by MoonyKitten

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"Mists" Reviewed at the Examiner!

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I was flattered, but a bit nervous, when I received a note from Larks Fiction editor Daniel Pool, that he had read and reviewed "Mists of Blackfen Bog." I was tickled pink by his reaction and his opinion of my novella. I'm not sure I believe the list of intimidating writers he compared my writing to, but I will take it and run with it. Check out the review here: Mists of Blackfen Won't Bog You Down.
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Beauty and Relaxation - Road Trip Travelogue II

The rest of the road trip was phenomenal. The best my husband and I have ever taken. Once work was wrapped up in Boulder, we took the scenic route west to Breckenridge and stayed in a gorgeous, renovated old lodge at the base of Mount Quandary. We managed to hit the place just before high season, so our room rates were unbeatable.

Our first stop was Mount Evans. My husband has this crazy goal of mountaineering up several (if not all) of the fourteeners in Colorado, and Mount Evans is the only one that is conquered by driving up to the top. So I can say that I, too, in all my physical weenie-ness, have conquered a fourteener. I'm actually prouder that I did not faint on the narrow broken road that winds along the cliffsides to get there. What is it with people who don't put guard rails on the sides of roads? In any case, it's amazing how short the breath is at that altitude, but the view is truly spectacular:

(my husband standing on top of the world)

The best part for me, though, was that we got to see mountain goats. Up close. Like six feet away. Growing up, my father (who should've been a mountain man in the early 19th Century) had taught me to look for animals, and it became a fun game on trips to be the first one to spot the pronghorn, the deer, etc. It was a rare treat when we got to see elk or goats through binoculars. I kept bemoaning the fact that I had forgotten our binoculars and wondered if I would get to see a goat at all. Well, atop Mt. Evans there is a privy, for all the people who survive the drive without pissing their pants. Before we begin the terrifying drive back down, we decide to make a pit-stop, and what do I see resting in the shade of the privy building? A herd of young goats! I gasp, unable to believe my eyes. No binoculars needed. These adorable little guys are not six feet away. I grab my camera (that, of course, keeps shutting down due to low batteries!) and snap as many pics as I can:

Mountain Goat: Mt. Evans

I was surprised by how small these critters are. They're smaller than my dog. Of course, she is a Great Pyrenees, so I shouldn't be surprised.

Anyway, the trip already felt like a success, so on we drove, reaching the lodge that evening. The next day, we decided on the hike we wanted to take. It's called the Blue Lakes trail, which is extremely easy, the "trail" actually being a grated road that winds along the side of Mount Quandary to the glacial lake. And what do you suppose we got to see? Yep, more goats! A herd of them was lounging around on the trail and snuffling up some kind of mineral that must be in the sand or gravel there. These were full grown and wilder than the Evans goats. Our approach made them a bit nervous, but I grabbed my camera and started filming. (Yes, I acted like the star-struck idiots that I always cuss. Seriously, people come to Oklahoma and sneak up on buffaloes with their cameras snapping. So stupid.) I was prepared to dive up on some dude's truck if the goats decided to charge me, b/c their horns are dagger sharp and I had just heard a story about a hiker who was gored in the leg by an aggressive male. He died of blood loss before he could be rescued. So, while I was cautious, I should never have gotten so close. The goats eventually got tired of me gawking and moved on up the slope so James and I could pass. We watched the marmots and pikas hop around on the rocks for a while, then drove into Breckenridge for a beer and gift shopping. Lovely.

(View from Lodge. Fog the morning we left for home)

We spent the rest of the time exploring mountain roads and looking at all the ridiculously expensive houses and wishing we could afford one. Then we packed up and started home. The only disappointment we suffered on that drive was a failed side jaunt. When I was 12 or so, my family had taken a similar trip, and my dad was thrilled to show us the Royal Gorge, that scarily deep river gorge with a scarily high bridge across it. I longed for my husband to see it, so we planned our route just so we could stop by. Well, twenty years later, there is no "stopping by." Money-grubbers have turned the view into a theme park. It costs $25 friggin' bucks to see the view. They expect folks to stay all day and ride the roller coasters and eat the fried food while they're at it. I was extremely disappointed, so we continued on, cursing this greedy person and that greedy person who would capitalize on a view. But what's new?

Anyway, we made it home in one grueling shot. I think I lost my marbles somewhere between Pueblo and Amarillo, but I found them again eventually.

In conclusion, this trip was more joyful and relaxing than I could've hoped for. Once I forget the stiffness that comes with sitting so long in a vehicle, I'm sure I'll be ready for the next one.
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Adventure and Havoc - Road Trip Travelogue

Because I do have good internet connection at our hotel, I decided I might as well update my journals on the progress of our road trip instead of puking out all the details in one long post when I get home.

I love the line from Pitch Black: "a long time for something to go wrong." That's been the pattern of our trips through Colorado lately. Last time we were delayed in passes and on interstates because of ice and traffic jams. This time because of wild fire. So here goes:

My husband and I left our house at 5:30 am yesterday (was that just yesterday?) and decided that we would stop at the Capulin Volcano attraction in NE New Mexico, something we had always wanted to do. We're both secretly geology nerds. Driving up that narrow road that some fool decided not to put rails on to keep drivers from driving over the edge freaked me out, but we made it safely to the parking area near the top. The place, surprisingly, was packed. Lots of geology nerds out there, I guess. We hiked down into the crater and all around the rim, which was amazing. The view all around is spectacular. One can see all the other volcanoes in the area and the lava flows barely covered in short yellow grass. We could even see all the way back to Oklahoma, on the very far eastern horizon.

After that wonderful experience, we decided to take a road we had never driven before and were greatly rewarded with scenic views. We even got to see the valley where Folsom man was discovered. Or is it where the Folsom points were discovered? Whatever. I'm an archeology nerd. That's no secret. We wound down off the most gorgeous plateau I've ever seen and finally arrived at Raton, where we would cross into Colorado. Be while we were driving through that plateau, we noticed an odd bit of traffic coming out of Raton. It just struck us as wrong somehow, and sure enough, we learned that the interstate over Raton Pass had just closed because of a wild fire that had flared up near the roadway. We drove far enough to see it, and I tell you, the sight of trees suddenly exploding into flame is startling and terrifying.

Just as startling was the realization that, yes, we had to turn back. Back up the plateau we drove, back past the Folsom man valley, following the slow caravan of all the other travelers who had the same route in mind. Ahem, but my husband and I are adventurers when it comes to road trips and we had just purchased a very detailed map. Thank God for small blessings. Between Folsom-man valley and the town of Folsom (which is almost all the way back to the volcano and where the caravan would at last book it north), there was a dotted line of a road that crossed into Colorado. We had rented a Jeep Grand Cherokee for this trip (another blessing), so we decided to go for it. This rough, rock-strewn road cut across one ranch or another, through country that most folks don't get to see, and it took us to the highway ahead of the crowd. Yee-haw!

While the adventure was fun, we arrived at our hotel 15 hours after leaving home. We were exhausted and went to Chile's for cocktails. Well deserved. Here's to hoping the rest of the trip goes more smoothly.

Road Trip, Baby!

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My husband and I are going on a road trip all next week. We're headed to Denver. It starts out as work-related, but after all the work stuff is wrapped up, we plan to go exploring through some mountains. It's nearly 100 degrees in OK, but CO is apparently still getting snow up high. I had a hell of a time trying to decide what to pack. Flipflops? Fuzzy boots? I packed both. Yes, there is a bag just for my shoes. But what's a girl to do? I'm a lowlander, and I have no idea what supplies I will need. Better to go over-prepared than under-prepared.

This is the first trip I will have taken since getting the Kindle, which is exciting, b/c it's already saved me tons of room. I hope to read Preeminent Hollows by Brian Fatah Steele. Hopefully it won't give me nightmares, as I'm likely to have nightmares sleeping in a strange place anyway. While my husband is at his work sessions, I'll be in the hotel room either working on the novel project or editing/critiquing the story of a LegendFire member. I love trying to work on my writing in strange hotel rooms. Getting away from all the responsibilities I have at home usually makes for interesting and productive writing.

Then, once we get to the exploring part, we're driving to Mt. Quandary. My husband attempted to hike up it a couple of years ago, but it was blowing snow and he was sick with bronchitis or something. Not good for a lowlander to have sick lungs at that altitude. So we mean to hike around a bit, though I have no illusions about making it to the top. It will be nice just to stretch the legs and take in the scenery.
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Random Happiness

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I just feel happy today, so I think I'll post random good stuff.

It's very encouraging when one's small success inspires others to take a step in the same direction. Once I posted on LegendFire that "A Mournful Rustling" had been accepted by Dead Robots' Society, another of our members hopped on board and readied a story to submit to them. Another mentioned doing the same. I hope she does. I hope submissions stay open so they both have time to revise and send their work in. It's my greatest joy to know that all the time and learning and painful decisions (and often biting my tongue) that go into administrating and moderating a writing community may help some folks achieve their dreams.

Renovations: inching forward. Experimentation with chemicals plus sandblasting, we hope, will finally remove white paint from natural stone. At least, we think it's paint. It may actually be some alien substance engineered to drive earthlings mad. It's war now. There's no turning back. We shall conquer!

Reading: On Guard by William Craig. Apologetics. Defending one's faith with reason. Yikes. Apparently it can be done. Chapter three was a wicked piece of brain work. Cosmological defense of the existence of God. Or an introduction to it. Some of the points I can grasp; others, not even close. The last pages require knowledge of subatomic particles, believe it or not. Well, I thought, if that is what's required for me to defend my faith, I'm doomed. On the other hand, the average Joe on the street who asks me, "How can you believe in an all-knowing, all-powerful invisible God who lets all these terrible things happen to us?" probably won't know the ins and outs of subatomic particles either to be able to argue that aspect with me. So I gave up trying to understand what the heck chapter three was about. I hope chapter four is more on my level. I doubt it, but we'll see.

Also reading some free material from Smashwords that I've downloaded onto the Kindle. Some of it is really worth reading. Some of it ... well, I really wish the authors had submitted the material to LegendFire for crits. They went to all the trouble of formatting manuscripts for publication, even perfected SPaG, but, well, the story I'm reading right now started out too late, with a hook like five pages in, instead of five sentences in, and I'm not sure I'll finish it or not. Shame that.

Novel project: Typing in the revisions made to another fat section of paper. I'm making the story stronger, I'm sure of it now. But all the small changes are adding up to make big ones farther down the road. Snowballs and avalanches!

Hmmm ... better stop now and go work on my floor ... or walls ... or ceiling ... or something.
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Snags

I'm actually getting to write in the middle of these renovations, which is a pleasant surprise. I suppose it's because we've hit a snag in our progress. The ceiling is almost painted (hubby working on the high peak right now, actually), and this weekend would've been perfect timing to strip the white paint off the stone fireplace (stone fireplace that is almost as long as the entire living room, by the way), but machinery is machinery and it breaks or malfunctions or ... or ... or. So the present state of living room is:

- Gorgeous ceiling, check
- Ladders galore, check
- Paint supplies strewn everywhere, check
- Bare concrete floor, check
- Fireplace stones that are still as white as ever, check (by the way, what idiot paints natural stone in an attempt to hide it?)
- Walls that are still sage green, check
- Furniture still piled into dining room, check (makes for a great maze for three curious cats)
- White concrete dust on all surfaces, check (I've cleaned my kitchen surfaces at least, so they are usable again)

The only positives of all this are (1) I no longer have to climb onto very tall ladders with a paint brush in one hand and a bowl of paint in the other, (2) I'm getting to type revisions on the novel, and (3) I appear to have adjusted to the chaos and am no longer suffering from anxiety at having my house in shambles.

I have only to remind myself that I still have a house that is intact (see post below). So its state is irrelevant. Also, if I become too frustrated with the snail's pace and the topsy-turvy condition of my living space, I can always go punch away at my new punching bag. It's pink. It came with pink kickboxing gloves and pink handwraps. Whacked around on it for about five minutes earlier today, and I feel marvelous. Every girl needs one. :D
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Deadly Skies

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We were surrounded again yesterday. The last two days have kept us on our toes, no mistake. The air has been so soupy and unstable that in between white clouds, the sky was just a different shade of white. My sister came down with her two kids so she and I could paint the ceiling, and she told me we had better keep an eye on the weather because conditions were even more ripe for storms than they were the day before. The residents of Joplin, Missouri, can attest to how deadly Monday's storms were. Well into our task we decided to check the weather, and storms were already firing up in the western part of the state, near where my parents live. We painted a bit more, then decided to interrupt the kids' movie and check the weather station. We were glued for the next five or so hours as tornadoes ripped through the landscapes we knew so well. The first tornado grew to a beast a full half-mile wide. (first picture). At one point, it looked like the entire storm cloud was sitting on the ground, spinning. We could tell when the tornado passed directly north of our house because the wind suddenly gusted past, sucking up into the storm. Yes, I had gathered pillows, flashlights, etc and chunked them into the closet, in case we had to duck, but the storms missed us by many miles ... this time.

Three separate storms grew into a solid line, and shortly after, tornadoes spawned in the town where I attended college and swept by to our southeast. While that one was still on the ground and beelining it for OKC, yet another popped down south of OKC. (middle picture) The news chopper was able to film amazing video of the Goldsby tornado that left us drop-jawed. Zooming in, they were able to show houses being pulled apart, trees stripped from the ground, and a deep ditch being dug through red fields. At one point the base of the tornado was earth-red with flashes of white as roof tin spun around and around.

Massive tornado, northwest of my house, early in the day.

That evening, tornado southeast of my house, near Goldsby, OK. The tornado was weakening at this point but still ripping through farms and houses.

The results. Trees stripped bare. Hmmm ... and, yes, that car has been impaled Vlad-style on the tree. The car was being stored in a garage "to protect it from hail," said the news anchor. Irony. Guess where the garage is now. Dramatic as this picture is, it avoids the human story. The death toll is rising today; one little girl still hasn't been found.

Here I am renovating my house and so many are suddenly homeless today.

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"A Mournful Rustling" Accepted!

Oh, my gosh, I can't believe it! I was sure this story was bound for a rejection, simply b/c nothing I've ever written for a specific venue has in the end been accepted by that venue. A first time for everything, I guess.

So, the details:
My short story "A Mournful Rustling" will appear in Dead Robots' Society's anthology Explorers: Beyond the Horizon. I have no idea when, but it will be released sometime this year. I hope.

The cool thing about this is that the original deadline for submissions was December 31, so I made sure I had that story revised and submitted by then. Then the editors decided they didn't have enough submissions that they liked, so they extended the deadline to June 1. Ack! Rush around, then have to wait six more months just to receive a rejection? Gee, thanks. But, lo, and behold. I'm having a crappy day, check my email, and there's an acceptance lurking in there. *smack* I can't believe it.

A huge thanks to the members of LegendFire who critiqued this one for me. You're necessary.

I'm gonna go pinch myself now.

Two Pens Better Than One? - Collaborative Writing

It's an interesting and risky concept, two creative (and egotistical?) people tossed together and expected to cooperate and come up with a story that halfway makes sense. At LegendFire we have an interesting contest going on, the first of its kind that we've ever hosted. People registered as either poets or fiction writers, then we were anonymously paired up by the contest hostess. Now my writing partner and I are supposed to invent the opening 200 words of a story and poetry has to be involved. I'm the poet, he's the fiction writer. He's in Australia, I'm in the US. The entry is due on Monday (Tuesday for him), and we have yet to work out a plot. Much less the poem to go with it.

I'm not freaking out yet, but this is going to be interesting.

So, I'm curious, what were the oddest or least comfortable circumstances that you had to write under?

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I'm the Proud Owner of a Kindle!

Well, I officially crossed over today. It's happened at last. I now own an e-reader. It only happened because my husband's five-year anniversary for working at his present company rolled around and he got to choose his ... prize (which makes it about the most hard-won, expensive Kindle ever). None of the other options made much sense (a watch when he doesn't wear one, a briefcase when he carries a backpack, and so on), so he chose the Kindle. Though it's really his, he knows who will use it more. He's so sweet.

So now I am excited to be able to buy all the ebooks LegendFire members have written, as well as those by authors I've met at blogger and Goodreads and Smashwords. Reading them via PDF on my computer is no fun when I want to curl up in my chair and read. Now, the Kindle is not warm and fuzzy pages, but at least it's book-sized and portable. So we're good to go.

Seriously, the most expensive Kindle, ever. I had better appreciate it and get years of good use out of it. Now, where do I begin? ...

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Also, in compliance with my new posting schedule, instead of updating the novel progress daily, I'm now updating weekly:

THIS WEEK'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Revised: 12
Pages Cut: 6.5
New Scenes: 1 (4.5 pgs)
Bad Things that Happened: Ogres stink like roadkill that's been on a hot road in summer for many days.
Good Things that Happened: Alliances are forged. Well, that might be really bad for our heroes.

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Five For the Fair

Friday was a big day. Some months ago we learned that a new set of friends enjoyed going to Renaissance Fairs, whereupon my husband and I admitted that we, too, attended when we could. So we made plans to load up together and drive to the local Ren Fair this month. Unfortunately, the house and yard projects started stacking up -- like they do most years when we plan on going to the fair. So we approached our friends and asked if they would rather help us save the pennies. They agreed, and so my husband and I hosted our own Ren Faire at our house. We didn't get to watch the falconry shows or the jousts, but we also missed the muddy, smelly bathrooms and the ill-fitting costumes that some women insist on wearing.

We did not miss out on the food. The point of the fair is the food, after all. We managed to find those enormous turkey legs, wrapped them in foil and baked them until the juices dripped. Aaaah... Chili cheese fries, bratwurst with sauerkraut steamed for hours in bacon grease completed the main feast. Then we changed out of our hot and very uncomfortable costumes (amazing how they shrink as one eats), and hiked down to our creek, where we had a beach set up. Our friends have an adorable little girl named Piper. She worked up her courage and splashed in that creek for hours, ice cold though that water is. In the meantime, her parents and we broke out the bottle of chilled, spiced mead. Aaaah (again) ...

Then dessert started calling us. So we eventually returned to the house and made chocolate fried pies and funnel cakes piled with powdered sugar. Ah, gluttony!

Henna tattoos (yes, I love to give henna tattoos) and an evening by a fire pit finished off the day. Nothing went wrong. It was a perfect day. One of those rare memories that will warm the heart for a long time to come.

Other high points:
* Catching a tadpole and feeling its skin
* Piper's Kool-aid moustache
* Petting bunnies with long black ears
* My husband in a kilt
* Photographs to commemorate. Piper's mother happens to be a professional photographer who has an eye for capturing the moment:

My First Interview!

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I'm pleased to announce that Jeff Chapman of The Midnight Diner approached me this week and asked for an interview about "Mists of Blackfen Bog." I was astonished and thrilled. So, of course, I accepted. He sent me several thought-provoking questions that really struck at the heart of the story, and I loved getting to answer them. The interview is now posted on his blog, along with a review of the novella. Please hop on over and check it out, HERE.

Thank you, Jeff, for this amazing opportunity.

On the other hand, it's Cinco De Mayo and this is the first time I've posted this month! Part of my absence is purposeful. Last week, I came to the difficult conclusion that I've got to back away from the social media to get some writing done. Both my social life and my online life have picked up in tempo, which means the writing has suffered. And a dragon with a panic attack is not a good sight. So I've determined that Thursdays and possibly Mondays are my days to post in my blogs, and only on those weekdays do I get to drop by LegendFire as often as I want and cruise all the other blogs and websites that are of interest. All other weekdays are reserved for writing exclusively. Three out of seven days still sounds like too little time to devote to the novel project, but that's all I can promise myself. There's still a big stack of paper waiting to be touched. But the panic attack is over, and discipline is back on the table.


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Scribd Disappoints...

Well, I have officially lost my patience with Scribd. So here' s a review:

The site is unbelievably slow and tedious when loading every single page and function. Even those that ought to be fresh in the memory b/c I was just there. Clicking the back arrow, at the least, should load the last page almost instantly, but this is not the case. I'm not sure if this is a common, everyday occurrence, or if Scribd is experiencing prolonged trouble, but since joining earlier this week, I have experienced the issue every time I've tried to navigate the site. As a result, I actually uploaded the same document twice. Oops! But even though I have decided to delete them both, they still show up in my uploads thingy in the sidebar. What's that about? I've deleted these docs. They are no longer available. Why show them there? I don't get it, nor do I like it.

The rest of the layout is pleasing to the eye, the functions easy to find. But only bother with this place if you've got time to waste, or a book in hand to read while you wait for the pages to load. As a result, I seriously doubt I'll have much to do with the site in the future. Which is sad to say, b/c I fully expected it to be a good venue to promote and sell copies of "Mists" and my upcoming novels. Not so sure it's worth the hassle after all.

You see, I was supposed to write today, but it's almost 3 pm and I just gave up the struggle at Scribd and not a new word has been written. Did I waste my time? I feel like the day is wasted, but I guess it depends on your perspective. Wait while pages load to be able to sell copies there in the long run, or find a site that functions as it should and sell them there instead. Hmmm...

Edit: A new day, a new dose of patience, and I figured out how to make a properly sized PDF and uploaded it to Scribd. While the site is still slow, everything went remarkably well. "Mists" is now available HERE for $1.25. So it's still a better deal to go through Smashwords and use the coupon code below.

Progress Report, 4-25-11, and Promo Art

TODAY'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Rewritten: 6
Pages Cut: 3 1/2
New Scenes: 0
Bad things that happened: Kelyn takes the blame
Good things that happened: When you fall off a horse ...

Best of all, we finished Part 4 today and tomorrow begin Part 5. In "Part 5: Interlude" we get to all the characters who were neglected during the tight flow of action in "Part 4: Slaenhyll" which will be a nice change of pace for the next few weeks. And because I cut more than half of today's content and rearranged the rest, I finished revising abnormally early. So now we get to work on book covers.

Some time ago, I confessed that I was painting a cover for my novel. I'm not sure I like the results, so now I'm experimenting with other options. The maps for the interior are finished as of Monday, which is a plus. Now just the cover remains.

Speaking of cool art stuff, I have got to post the promo art that Brian Fatah Steele worked up for "Mists of Blackfen Bog."


He really does amazing work, and I'm honored that he took the time to put this together for me.

Now, the coupon for downloading this ghost story is still valid for a couple of weeks. I'll post it again, b/c the conveyor belt is moving it too far down the line: TR89N

Remember, type that code into checkout at Smashwords for 50% off the regular price. You'll pay only $.99 for the novella.

Note how awesome that looks in the sidebar! Woohoo!
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Progress Report, 4-25-11, and Rain

TODAY'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Rewritten: 4
Pages Cut: 1 1/2
New Scenes: 1
Bad things that happened: Kieryn goes missing
Good things that happened: ale about a roaring fire, mmm

It feels so good to be back to writing. This last week wore me out, but all that creativity being bottled up isn't a bad thing. I'm hoping for a good run of rewrites this week as a result.

Most importantly, we finally have had a good rain. The last time we had rain like this was last August. We had trace amounts in October, then nothing. Two snows don't count if the snow is as dry as mountain snow and leaves dry powdery ground behind. We've suffered devastating and deadly wildfires. Our farmers have lost their wheat, most won't bother with cotton this year, and the cattle are going to have a tough time with dry ponds, and the hundred degree heat hasn't hit yet. But we've had rain this weekend. A blessing on Easter. Please, God, send more. My creek isn't even rising yet, so parched is the ground.

The Great Baby Bunny Rescue!

Not much writing this week either, due to upcoming family gatherings to prepare for and garden projects to wrap up. So the story I have today indirectly involves the latter. My husband and I have worked stupidly hard to try to tame just a corner of our property for flower beds and other signs of civilization. Perhaps followers who have been around a while will recall the pics I've posted showing off my gorgeous back yard. To keep folks up to date, I live on a natural creek on the edge of a very small town, so we have our raccoons and opossums, coyotes and armadillos that come traipsing in from time to time. We also have our domesticated visitors that liven things up when they meet face to face with my beloved large cats. I have three very large, fat cats who do actually earn their keep. When we first moved into this place, the yard was riddled with gopher mounds and tunnels. Within a few months, the local population of these pests was next to nil. We also rarely have issues with rats or mice. The occasional bird also meets a bloody doom at the pointy end of a cat's paw.

Then there are the rabbits. Those little cottontail cuties that, for the most part, have learned to stay outside the territory of my hungry tigers. Readers will find in my archives from last March pictures of the two domestic bunnies we adopted. Since that time I've grown a soft spot for the critters. My bunnies are now far too big and caged up for the cats to do them damage, but since we brought those big-eared critters home, the cats have vowed revenge on us for not letting them eat the domestic bunnies. Or perhaps vowed revenge on all rabbit-kind.

So yesterday morning, James and I were preparing to head to the green house in the city for a few more plants I needed for the pots on the back patio when we heard the high-pitched squeal of an animal in distress. Gabriel, the stately, suave hunter who looks like he's wearing a tuxedo (sometimes I think of him as a gelded version of a 007 in the cat realm), had snatched a baby bunny from under a woodpile. Now, we had no reason to think that any rabbit-mother would be stupid enough to set up house anywhere near these prowling monsters, but she must've been the daring kind.

At the sound of the squeal, Raphael and Sonora came running, tails high. So did James and myself. I'm sure Gabriel would've made fast work of that tender morsel had not a snake intervened. Yes, a two-foot-long bull snake (that's small, by the way) happened to be in the killing zone and convinced Gabriel to drop the bunny and swat a few times at the red flicking tongue. No doubt the snake had been eying the same bunny and took issue with a cat sneaking in and stealing its breakfast. So the cat and the snake conducted a stand off. In the meanwhile, James threw me a bucket so I could put the bunny in it and run. But that part of the property is wooded and overgrown, and the bunny took good advantage of it and hid from all of us. I hadn't had time to throw any shoes on, so there I was picking through the leaves and brush barefoot, with bunnies, snakes, and poison ivy under toe. What a way to start the day.

The snake eventually grew tired of this game and retreated, under the very leaves I'm standing on. So I too retreated, taking the cats with me. They get shoved into the garage for the few hours we were gone, in the slim hopes that they would forget about their morning adventure. That afternoon, when we returned with our lovely flowers for the pots, I felt sorry for the buggers stuck in the house and let them outside. Yes, a half hour later we heard the squeal again. This time, both Gabriel and Raphael came running up from the woodpile, both with baby bunnies locked in their jaws. "No!" I scream and James runs after them. I'm not far behind. "Whoa!" James cried. "Look at that." That daring mother rabbit charged from the woodpile after Raphael. A good attempt, I'm sure, but Raphael was more daunted by me running after him. I chased him to ground, pinched his jaw and forced him to release the bunny. Now, I'm talking a tiny thing, no more than four inches long and still likely in need of mama's milk. With the darling in hand, I returned to find James holding Gabriel by the scruff until he released the second bunny. *whew* Now we have two baby bunnies in a yellow bucket. What to do with them?

James threw the cats back into the garage so they couldn't see where we took them. The mother had run off at last; James wanted to deliver them to her; I just wanted to return them to their nest where mother will find them. But so might the cats. It's not a hopeful situation, so I snatched the bucket and dumped the bunnies back under the woodpile. They skittered off, grateful.

So much for the great bunny rescue. I'm not sure how long-lived it will be, for between 007, Raphael, and Lucifer the Serpent in the underbrush, I'm betting those bunnies are bound to find their way into some predator's gut. Just as long as I don't have to see it or hear it (or find an ooey-gooey present by my front door), so much the better. And for now, I'm happy I got to help them survive another day. Maybe they'll make it. *fingers crossed*

Ah, the joys of living in the country.

Progress Report and Goodreads

TODAY'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Rewritten: 6
Pages Cut: 4
New Scenes: 0
Bad things that happened: replaced romance with brutality. Fun times.
Good things that happened: We're over the climax, baby!

Back to the novel project, thank God. This feels normal, comfortable, after all the new territory I've crossed in the past couple of weeks. So, after "Mists" was uploaded and published on Smashwords and that hurdle jumped, I dived into Goodreads. I love books, the smell of them, the feel of them, so entering into a place that is all about books hasn't felt too alien. Adding my own book to the roster there does, however. When I compare my little novella to the other books on my bookshelf, I have to admit that I'm in some intimidating company. Hemingway, Steinbeck, Le Guin, Anne Rice, Amy Tan, Tolkien and J.K. Rowling ... yowser! Quite the company to keep. All for the sake of self-promotion. No pressure, though. I'm enjoying this exploration of new stuff. Though I have to remind myself to stop clicking on links, tweets, blog entries, etc. by 11:30 and get to work. The stack of novel pages is still quite fat, and it's almost May.

If you are a Goodreads reader or author, you may want to visit my author page. You'll find it here: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4788408.Court_Ellyn - And be sure to leave me links to your pages, too.

"Mists" Now Available!

Okay, here it is! "Mists of Blackfen Bog" is now available for download at Smashwords in every format they offer. Find it for purchase >HERE< I've set the price at the stupidly low $1.99, but those who visit my blog between now and May 11 are invited to use this coupon code for the 50% off promotional price: TR89N

Ideally you should be able to enter that code somewhere prior to checkout and only pay $0.99 for the novella.

Also, as I don't own an e-reader of any kind, I need to know if the format is okay on those devices. So if you download a version for your phone or Kindle or other e-reader, it would be nice to know if there are any glaring problems with the way the novella looks or something. Please report any issues you find here at the blog, and I'll do my best to fix them for future issues.

Now, about celebrating. You don't publish a book just every day, so I was pondering how I was going to celebrate this big event. I have cocktails regularly, so popping open a bottle is nothing special. Going out to eat is too expensive these days, and too far away and gas is ridiculously high. So I was at a loss. James got home and said, Forget the diet, let's get ice cream and we'll go watch the sunset and just be happy. So that's what we did. I got a pint of Cookies 'n Cream, he got a box of Lil' Debbie brownies, and we drove out west to the highest hill in the area and we watched the sun go down and the stars come out and also got to see a pack of coyotes raising a raucous in a wheat field. They were yipping and chasing each other, and we got stuffed on junk food, then drove home. On the way, we stopped beside the place that has the miniature horses and watched them romp for a bit. Three little colts that are smaller than my dog came up to check us out. So it was a good time to just relax and be grateful.

I'm guessing that may sound a bit dull or weird to some folks, but it suits me just fine. Best thing of all, when the sun went down, I didn't see a single ghost walking out of the twilight. Maybe that only happens in bogs. What do you think?

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"Mists" To Smashwords

Well, it's been a while since I posted a progress report on the novel project, b/c writing on it has been hit and miss, and I need a new vision for the scene coming up. It's nasty. Really nasty. So I'm pondering.

In the meantime, I've decided to test the self-pubbing waters earlier than I expected. Sometime ago, CL Stegall and Brian Fatah Steele, two self-published writers at LegendFire, mentioned something about a place called Smashwords. I'm sheltered enough that I was clueless, so I checked it out and that knowledge has been stewing for months.

Recently, I got to freaking out about the size of this novel project and decided that I should test the whole process with something smaller first. "Mists of Blackfen Bog" was published in Silver Blade, an online fantasy journal, in 2009. The serialized thing was cool while it lasted, but now I would like to see the whole novella published in one streamlined unified volume. I tried to find another journal to do it the traditional way, but the prospects have shrunk to one or two unsuitable options. So, I said, screw it. I'll do it myself.

The last two days I've been studying the formatting guide offered at Smashwords and reformatting the novella to be compliant. (I am NOT looking forward to reformatting three epic-sized novels in this manner!) I've also been researching reviewers who might say something nice about the story. The reviews, of course, would go on the cover of the print version that I'm readying for CreateSpace.

Blah! This entry is all over the place. My brain is firing randomly b/c it's packed with so much new stuff. Sorry about that.

Anyway, the Smashwords edition first, then the print version at CreateSpace. Here's a sample of the cover I'm working on. Will likely alter a few more things, so advice would be handy at this point.



As soon as the first edition is available on Smashwords, I'll be tweeting and blogging like crazy.
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Margaret at the Symposium

I discovered Margaret Atwood during a poetry seminar about twelve years ago. Our assignment was to choose any poet from our assigned reading material and for the rest of the semester research their background and explore the way they expressed themselves through the craft of poetry. I must have read a poem or two of hers for a different writing course, because I was just familiar enough with her work to be greatly intimidated by it. As I wrote in the end-of-term paper, she is “beyond my league.” I craved the challenge, I suppose, so I paired up with Atwood. What a rewarding treat that exploration turned out to be. By the end of the semester I was able to report, “I am no longer afraid of her” and “I feel intimate with much of her poetry.” To this day, she remains one of my favorite writers.

Though she is known best for her novels, I’ve had trouble thinking of her as a novelist as well as a poet. I hope to break that mental block soon as I begin reading The Blind Assassin.

That I would have the opportunity to hear her speak on the same college campus more than a decade later is fitting and satisfying. When my husband and I arrived at the auditorium, a big screen was scrolling through a slideshow of photographs taken over the course of Atwood’s life, from illustrations of stories she and her brother wrote when they were children, to Atwood’s meeting with Queen Elizabeth II.

Shortly after 7:30, Atwood took the stage and thanked us for having her so she could “play hooky” from writing. Then in her dry alto voice, she captivated her audience with tales of her early life in isolated rural Canada and her early writing career. I was pleased that her speech reflected the style of her poetry, passages of descriptive storytelling undercut by sarcasm, satire, or witty humor. The tale about teaching grammar to engineers by having them read Kafka was especially pleasing to her literate audience.

Early in the evening she stated that she was pleased to be speaking to us because “starting a novel is so hard.” Then why do it? she asked. “Why write? Why expose oneself to “the cannibalistic ordeal of publication?” Her descriptions of the revision process elaborated on the difficult task writers face. “After bouts of despair and soul-searching” and wondering if it were too late to take up another profession, she tossed out a particular novel, not once, but twice, and at last changed the narrative from third person to first and “was able to proceed.” No small task as anyone who has attempted the same knows. “If you get it wrong,” she added, “someone is bound to send you a snippy letter.”

So why write? Her answer was this: “to joyously create a world whose door someone will wish to enter.”

That works for me.

After her speech, a microphone was set up to receive questions from the audience. Atwood’s replies were practical and encouraging. One woman asked what advice Atwood might have for those of us who may have novels lurking unfinished in drawers somewhere. Atwood replied, “Take it out of the drawer…. Go at it day by day, page by page, hour by hour. Unless the words go down on the page, there is no book.”

In response to whether Atwood values literary poetry over performance poetry, she said, “It’s not a question of what you do, but whether you do it well.” There are good examples of both and lousy examples of both.

Concerning her speculative novels like The Handmaid’s Tale and The Year of the Flood, she emphasized the distinction that “a cautionary tale is not a prediction. … It’s like a blueprint. Do you want to live in this house? If not, design another house.”

About a writer’s audience she stated, “You can never predict who will read your book. … Your job as a writer is to make your book the best example of itself it can be. … Your duty is to the book, and then it goes off and has a life of its own.”

But my favorite quote of the evening was in response to a question I can’t recall. She said, “[Writing is] work. It’s not like having stuff pour out of you like automatic toothpaste.” That is a quote for the ages. On those days when the words simply won’t come, I’ll recall this tidbit of wisdom and remind myself, “It’s okay. You're not incompetent. Keep plugging away.”

Of course, my husband and I were inspired. We came home, made some fancy floral tea, the kind that blooms in a clear teapot, and talked poetry until it was time to get some sleep. An evening well spent.


P.S. Yes, she signed both my new copy of The Blind Assassin and my prized beat-up copy of her poems.

Art and Shakespeare

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It's been a while since I posted for Art of the Week. Everything else I've been clamb'ring to learn caused art to slip my mind. So here goes.

My favorite art movement is the Pre-Raphaelite. It appeals to my love of melancholy, drama, beauty, and history, I suppose. A favorite subject for these 19th painters was Ophelia, the tragic heroine of my second favorite play by Shakespeare (my first being Macbeth). Many a Pre-Raphaelite artist had a unique vision of this fragile, lost little soul, but nearly all these visions revolve around her death, described in lurid and lovely detail by Queen Gertrude in Act 4, scene 7, of Hamlet.

"There is a willow grows aslant a brook
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them.
There on the pendent boughs her crownet weeds
Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
When down the weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,
And mermaid-like a while they bore her up;
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and endued
Unto that element. But long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death."

Three paintings to contrast:

OPHELIA, AND HE WILL NOT COME AGAIN
Arthur Hughes, 1863

OPHELIA
Alexandre Cabanel, 1883

OPHELIA
John Edward Millais, 1852

I had not seen the Cabanel painting before today. I love it for catching Ophelia in the actual fall. For still more paintings to compare and admire, there's a wonderful entry >HERE< at blogspot.

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Progress Report, 3-28-11, and Stress

TODAY'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Rewritten: 4 1/2
Pages Cut: 1
New Scenes: 0
Bad things that happened: a secret lurks
Good things that happened: nearing the emotional climax now! While this bodes bad things for the characters, it means excitement for readers. Well, it does for me anyway. :)

It's Monday, thank God! That sounds backwards, doesn't it? This weekend was so stressful and nasty that I have to get to Monday for recuperation. Not sure I'll go into detail, but I was . . . not well. Physically, emotionally, or spiritually. It was rough. Really rough. But I am on antibiotics now and have had a good talk with the Lord Almighty.

He is faithful. And this bedraggled little writer is on the mend.
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Progress Report, 3-25-11, and Poetry Readings

TODAY'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Rewritten: 6
Pages Cut: 3 (so much disgusting, useless content. Ugh!)
New Scenes: 0
Bad things that happened: a manhunt!
Good things that happened: that harp comes into play again and wins a second chance for Kieryn

Six days until Margaret Atwood speaks at USAO, my alma mater! I heard she was coming, way back last fall, like September or something, and I've been counting the days. When I lived in Indiana, I got to hear Naomi Shihab Nye read, now I get to listen to Ms. Atwood. There's nothing like hearing a poet read their own work and talk about the craft they love.
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Progress Report, 3-24-11, and a Red Rider

YESTERDAY'S PROGRESS
Project: Falcons Rising
Pages Revised: 2
Pages Cut: 1 (Yep, I cut more than half the content)
New Scenes: 0
Bad things that happened: Elves have killer, cold glares. *shiver*
Good things that happened: nothing yet, and it's about to get worse.

I got a late start writing yesterday, but I was able to squeeze in a couple of pages. Today won't be any better, I'm afraid. Still trying to learn the ins and outs of Twitter (along with taking care of LF and other networking business). Twitter is really very simple; it's just that one name leads to a thousand others, not to mention the # marks and lists to explore. Once the birdie is old hat, I'll be able to fly through and get on with writing.

On a sidenote:

Here's an absurd picture for you. Yesterday, a gorgeous spring afternoon with a sky unhazed by field dust and pollen, and this prissy, country-girl writer, sitting on her back patio with her pages to revise; alongside her, a new Red Rider BB gun. A pink Red Rider. Oh, yes, they make them, just for prissy country-girls like me. I filled the barrel with shiny steel BBs and waited, lurking under the trees, looking, oh, so innocent with my novel pages propped on my knee, in my lime green high heels and frosty pink toenail polish. Then lo! and behold, those pesky, loud, hungry cowbirds flocked overhead, landing in the elm tree, thinking they were so clever that they found a sucker who is still feeding the finches. Those pesky, loud, hungry cowbirds cleaned out my feeders in one blinkin' day! So, as I say, they flocked in and landed for another course. Down goes the pencil and up comes the BB gun. My dad taught me excellent form. Those BBs must sting like hell, 'cause off flew those pesky cowbirds for another treetop. That wasn't far enough -- *pop pop* -- and off they flew to some other sucker's bird feeders.

(No pesky, loud, hungry cowbirds were killed in this battle. Though I hope their bottoms sting)

Ah, back to writing...

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Back Into The Swing

Time to get back to it. The novel. Submitting stories.

Head cold is all but over, "Dreamflier" is revised and in the mail (yes, some mags still take snail mail the old-fashioned way), and I've started resubmitting "The Bone Harp" as well. The latter needs a new home. Realms, bless it's papery heart, saw only two issues before it was absorbed into another mag. Then that mag, too, has been shoved into the closet as Black Matrix focuses its attention on publishing books instead of short stories. Ah, well. I knew it was time to try for a reprint when I attempted to find that old copy of Realms at Amazon and got nothing. At first. Then I had to get fancy with the search to turn up the right mag. In other words, no one will find it unless they know what they're looking for, have a hefty dose of determination, or stumble upon it by accident.

Submitting is the part of writing that I dislike most. Trying to decide if this story or that story is a right fit for this mag or that mag, getting my hopes up, only to receive a rejection. The letters that are worst say, "This story just isn't the right fit." Ack! But I spent all that time reading sample stories and weighing YOUR description of YOUR mag against others! Fine, on to the next mag in the line-up. Tedious. One must have an endless supply of hope hidden in the deep recesses to keep at this job. Hope balanced with little expectation is how I've learned to cope with the minuscule chance that a mag will favor my story over the hundreds of others.

On the flip-side, there's nothing like waiting in anticipation for that acceptance.
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The Little Birdie Gets Around

Two posts ago, I reported how I had set up a fanpage on Facebook. Thanks to those who have responded by visiting and clicking Like. You give me hope that this effort is not a waste of my time.

Now, in conjunction with that, I have also set up an account on Twitter. I do not understand the point behind Twitter, but I do hope it will be a valuable marketing tool in the future. So if you Tweet, post your account username here and I will be happy to follow you, and please return the favor. As of this morning, I have exactly one follower, which is a positive beginning, I suppose. Gotta start somewhere, right? :)

You'll find me here: @Court_Ellyn

Last but not least, I must admit I have no idea what I'm doing. I think I'll be able to figure most of it out, but I'm still flabbergasted about things like those "#" tags that follow some tweets but not others. So any tips for comprehension and productive use of this thing will be most welcome.
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