tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26712060285130987322024-02-01T22:21:45.105-08:00BirthrightWhere the most influential coven reigned, has now met its match...
Birthright is a novel that opens the door on family secrets. Both Kane and Candra are locked into a shared past neither of them can escape. Evil is everywhere waiting to pounce. Candra must decide who is a friend and find out what her birthright really is.
When everything in your life is lost, whom can you trust and who will be there to pick up the pieces and help you put them back together, family or a stranger.A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-70322862114154603562020-10-19T18:28:00.007-07:002020-10-19T18:50:16.098-07:00ELSPETH! 5 Star Review!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSDcKlb6Lv-szGJ69LPAyUgVhyphenhyphenlHGavCF5u_PiqqZHAyo7R4jmx4bP1z3jOJE2gJdpUzDfF2HgddBt0NJP8x5LqpKcTuBrmH2CqcGeKO7LrAsX7b_fSbxpTC-jcmXLy9qxLnc73tqs5SY/s499/41TZsJXL0NL._SX303_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="305" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSDcKlb6Lv-szGJ69LPAyUgVhyphenhyphenlHGavCF5u_PiqqZHAyo7R4jmx4bP1z3jOJE2gJdpUzDfF2HgddBt0NJP8x5LqpKcTuBrmH2CqcGeKO7LrAsX7b_fSbxpTC-jcmXLy9qxLnc73tqs5SY/s320/41TZsJXL0NL._SX303_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="a-row a-spacing-mini" data-hook="genome-widget" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 4px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 4px; padding: 0px; width: 680px;"><a class="a-profile" data-a-size="small" href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHOV34FRXLDT4NCE3WLKCFZH3ZQQ/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_gw_tr?ie=UTF8" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #0066c0; display: table; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;"><div aria-hidden="true" class="a-profile-avatar-wrapper" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: table-cell; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 9px 0px 0px; width: 43px;"><div class="a-profile-avatar" style="box-sizing: border-box; height: 34px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; width: 34px;"><img data-src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/default._CR0,0,1024,1024_SX48_.png" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/default._CR0,0,1024,1024_SX48_.png" style="border-radius: 34px; border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; vertical-align: top; width: 34px;" /></div></div><div class="a-profile-content" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: table-cell; margin: 0px; min-height: 34px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span class="a-profile-name" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; position: relative; unicode-bidi: isolate;">Amazon Customer</span></div></a></div><div class="a-row" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 680px;"><a class="a-link-normal" href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R3OMQRCVW53E3U/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B08FSY4LC2" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #0066c0; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;" title="5.0 out of 5 stars"><i class="a-icon a-icon-star a-star-5 review-rating" data-hook="review-star-rating" style="background-image: url("https://m.media-amazon.com/images/G/01/AUIClients/AmazonUIIcon-sprite_1x-e9434610f810a3a99b3f0e49c1b938c9d76628b8._V2_.png"); background-position: -5px -368px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: 400px 900px; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block; height: 18px; position: relative; vertical-align: text-top; width: 80px;"><span class="a-icon-alt" style="box-sizing: border-box; clip-path: circle(0px at 50% 50%); display: block; font-size: inherit; height: 18px; left: auto; line-height: normal; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; top: auto; width: 80px;">5.0 out of 5 stars</span></i></a><span class="a-letter-space" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block; width: 0.385em;"></span><a class="a-size-base a-link-normal review-title a-color-base review-title-content a-text-bold" data-hook="review-title" href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R3OMQRCVW53E3U/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B08FSY4LC2" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-weight: 700; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;"> <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Excellent read!</span></a></div><p><span class="a-size-base a-color-secondary review-date" color="rgb(85, 85, 85) !important" data-hook="review-date" face=""Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Reviewed in the United States on October 31, 2019</span></p><div class="a-row a-spacing-mini review-data review-format-strip" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 4px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 4px; padding: 0px; width: 680px;"><span class="a-size-mini a-color-state a-text-bold" color="rgb(196, 85, 0) !important" data-hook="avp-badge-linkless" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 700; line-height: 16px;">Verified Purchase</span></div><p></p><div class="a-row a-spacing-small review-data" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 8px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 8px; padding: 0px; width: 680px;"><span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 20px;">Excellent read! The author keeps you turning the pages - I wish it had been longer! A good read for all ages.</span></div><div class="a-row a-spacing-small review-data" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 8px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 8px; padding: 0px; width: 680px;"><span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></div><div class="a-row a-spacing-small review-data" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 8px !important; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 8px; padding: 0px; width: 680px;"><p style="color: #333333; margin: 0px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;">Early 18th century, Loth, Scotland. A time fraught with fear, as witch trials subdued for years return.</p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;">In Elspeth's community, women were often the target of these accusations. Now twelve, Elspeth learns that she is a witch - like her mother - and with it comes a life that will bring them great loss.</p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;">Journeying to the Highlands, they follow an omen through a path of dark visions and danger. Soon, Elspeth will need to prove her worth in battles both internal and external.</p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;">But in a world dictated by fear, can she win the biggest conflict she has ever faced, and take back what she thought was lost forever?</p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="yiv7481990900msonormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #196ad4;"><a href="http://mybook.to/elspeth" target="_blank">http://mybook.to/elspeth</a> </span><span style="color: #ff00fe;"> EBOOK</span></span></u><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #111111; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 8pt; text-indent: 0in;"><u><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://mybook.to/elspethpb" target="_blank">http://mybook.to/elspethpb</a> </span><span style="color: #ff00fe;">PAPERBACK</span></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 8pt; text-indent: 0in;"><u><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://mybook.to/elspethlp" target="_blank">http://mybook.to/elspethlp</a> </span><span style="color: #ff00fe;"> LARGE PRINT</span></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 8pt; text-indent: 0in;"><u><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://mybook.to/elspethpkb" target="_blank">http://mybook.to/elspethpkb</a> </span><span style="color: #ff00fe;"> POCKET BOOK</span></span></u><span style="color: #1d2228;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 8pt; text-indent: 0in;"><u><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://mybook.to/elspethtp" target="_blank">http://mybook.to/elspethtp</a> </span><span style="color: #ff00fe;">TRADE EDITION PAPERBACK</span></span></u></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 8pt; text-indent: 0in;"><u><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://mybook.to/elspethcp" target="_blank">http://mybook.to/elspethcp</a> </span><span style="color: #ff00fe;">CLEAR PRINT</span></span></u><span style="color: #1d2228;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="color: #333333; margin: -4px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><span class="pq6dq46d" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; cursor: pointer; display: inline-flex; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d9wwppkn fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb mdeji52x e9vueds3 j5wam9gi lrazzd5p oo9gr5id" color="var(--primary-text)" dir="auto" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.8125rem; font-weight: 600; line-height: 1.2308; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><br /></span></span></div>A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-4181490319336293592020-06-09T10:12:00.001-07:002020-06-09T10:12:17.945-07:00Book Cover of the Month! Vote now!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/8156/" target="_blank">Vote here!</a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrTlH6PocbvVWmFJ6UPjOCTIzXcT21lOF099tcX2mwZBwXGc_JVrOPQcEYnoGCcDTFL-VGtktDu3JJreuh-FrU411FlUJI5D77-PNMLmdbvWUZdrVca4ec1UitPj6_4RAwkCqqjeAx1A/s3168/FRONTCOVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3168" data-original-width="1961" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrTlH6PocbvVWmFJ6UPjOCTIzXcT21lOF099tcX2mwZBwXGc_JVrOPQcEYnoGCcDTFL-VGtktDu3JJreuh-FrU411FlUJI5D77-PNMLmdbvWUZdrVca4ec1UitPj6_4RAwkCqqjeAx1A/s320/FRONTCOVER.jpg" /></a></div>My book cover, Elspeth, has been nominated for Cover of the Month. I'm am currently in the 2nd rounds of voting. Please vote for my cover to make it into the 3rd round please. Thank you!</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-52893810580533085972020-05-31T15:19:00.002-07:002020-05-31T16:24:08.852-07:00Amazon's Best Seller and my mentor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">What can I say about Mary Deal? For one,
she is a perfectionist and my dearest friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">We meet
a long time ago on Authornation and from then on, we've been in contact with
each other ever since.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I wanted
to show off her books, as they are all very well written and have received
numerous awards. You can find them all on Amazon. I promise you, you won't
be disappointed in any of them, for her works shows much professionalism. They
are hard to put down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">It is
also my reason for showing her off, due to the fact, that again, she has helped
me out. I just recently contracted with a publisher she is also contracted
under. She is mentoring me. A seasoned author, such as herself, I am honored. I
just hope to stand up to her expectations and not mess up or if I do, pick
myself back up and persevere. I've never let anyone down, not yet, at
least.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So, I
now introduce you all to Mary and some bit of information about her and her
books. Buy them! They are that good! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<figure class="wp-block-gallery columns-1 is-cropped" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #f1f1f1; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; font-family: "Gentium Book Basic", serif; font-size: 17px; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><ul class="blocks-gallery-grid" data-carousel-extra="{"blog_id":159611045,"permalink":"https:\/\/writeanygenre.wordpress.com\/blog\/home\/"}" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; font-family: inherit; line-height: 28.9px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; margin: 0px 0px 1.5em 1.5em; padding: 0px;">
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</ul>
</figure><br />
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<figure class="alignright" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: table; float: right; margin: 0.5em 0px 1.2em 30px; max-width: 50%;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-28" data-attachment-id="28" data-comments-opened="0" data-image-description="" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"LEAD Technologies Inc. V1.01","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}" data-image-title="12-03-10-9-eBookCafe-140×175" data-large-file="https://writeanygenre.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/12-03-10-9-ebookcafe-140x175.jpg?w=140" data-medium-file="https://writeanygenre.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/12-03-10-9-ebookcafe-140x175.jpg?w=140" data-orig-file="https://writeanygenre.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/12-03-10-9-ebookcafe-140x175.jpg" data-orig-size="140,175" data-permalink="https://writeanygenre.wordpress.com/blog/home/12-03-10-9-ebookcafe-140x175/" src="https://writeanygenre.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/12-03-10-9-ebookcafe-140x175.jpg?w=140" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; height: auto; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px;" /></figure></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #f1f1f1; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Gentium Book Basic", serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 28.9px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; padding: 0px;">
Mary Deal is an Amazon best-selling and award-winning author of suspense/thrillers, romance, a short story collection, a writer’s reference, and self-help. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and her first feature screenplay, Sea Storm, was a Semi-Finalist in a Moondance International Film Festival competition. She is former newspaper columnist and magazine editor. Mary is currently writing the third story in her Sara Mason Mystery series.</div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #f1f1f1; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: "Gentium Book Basic", serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 28.9px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; padding: 0px;">
She has traveled a great deal and has a lifetime of diverse experiences, all of which remain in memory as fodder for her fiction. A native of California’s Sacramento River Delta, where some of her stories are set, she has also lived in England, the Caribbean, Hawaii, and now resides in Scottsdale, Arizona. She is also an oil painter and photographer. Her art is used to create gorgeous personal and household products from her online galleries. <a href="https://writeanygenre.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Write Any Genre</a></div>
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-33425008767160499832020-05-22T09:55:00.000-07:002020-05-22T09:55:19.506-07:00If you loved Outlander, you will love this book!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It is 1700, Loth, Scotland. Elspeth, who is now twelve, learns that she is a witch and from that day she begins her lessons on her craft, but at some point she learns about her fate as well . . . as does her Mother. They knew that a day would come, in the distant future, that she would eventually be on her own. The omens told her as did her familiar, Bram. Now, after experiencing a tragic event, she must face the world alone. A world where monster exist, but only in the minds of friends and neighbors, whose only lot in life is to seek gratification in the death of someone they friended.<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WZYWZHN?pf_rd_r=BA8CYTDCMX2SR5BTHECD&pf_rd_p=edaba0ee-c2fe-4124-9f5d-b31d6b1bfbee" target="_blank">Buy Elspeth</a> <img alt="Elspeth by [Sue Mydliak]" class="a-dynamic-image frontImage" data-a-dynamic-image="{"https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41u8aVk5BtL.jpg":[310,500],"https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41u8aVk5BtL._SY346_.jpg":[215,346]}" data-a-image-name="ebooksImageBlockFront" data-a-manual-replacement="true" id="ebooksImgBlkFront" src="https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41u8aVk5BtL.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-bottom-color: currentColor; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-image-outset: 0; border-image-repeat: stretch; border-image-slice: 100%; border-image-source: none; border-image-width: 1; border-left-color: currentColor; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: currentColor; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: currentColor; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-family: &quot; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; left: 0px; letter-spacing: normal; max-width: 100%; orphans: 2; position: relative; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; top: 0px; vertical-align: top; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" width="215" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-29406452938361315152020-05-21T11:49:00.000-07:002020-05-21T11:49:24.739-07:00The Untold Purposes of Punctuation Marks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Alright, again, I know I haven't posted anything in awhile. It's been super crazy since March 17th...lockdown! Isolation! 6 feet distances! Not to mention the melting of days into other days and the sheer boredom of trying to keep busy without going stir crazy. For me though, being multi-talented I have and I mean this literally, a room full of art supplies. So, I have been feeding myself with art, because before all this nonsense, I was writing. Now, I have all the time in the world, so art became my choice of recreation if you will. What does this have to do with punctuation marks? Nothing! I'm just spewing jibber jabber.
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Punctuation marks...what the stylebooks aren't telling you. I am mentoring a new, young, author and so I post stuff like this for him and for others following the path of becoming published. The thing you must know is read...read...read some more, but for goodness sake READ! Read the genre you are writing about and then when you do, just write. Everyday! Write. Set a time for writing. In a place where you won't be disturbed. A place that transcends peace. A place where your muse won't get scared coming into and taking a long vacation.</div>
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Commas are subjective. One editor says this, another says that and you go back and forth; it can be exhausting. In the end, it's up to you. Use them to manage the flow of your sentences. Trust your instinct. It's sort of like Star Wars and being a Jedi when dealing with commas. "Use the force." (trust your instinct.)</div>
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Semicolons - Remove them from dialogue. People don't usually talk in semicolons unless they're trying to hide something. Most of the time, a full stop (period) rather than a semicolon will do the trick.</div>
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Question Marks- These are used to show the upward inflection at the end of a sentence. When someone is coming to a conclusion rather than asking a question, use a period instead of a question mark.</div>
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Exclamation Points - Usually, they lower the status of a character who uses them all the time, since they show loss of control. In a series of commands, because of escalation, the last one might have an exclamation point, but not the first. So, you might write, "Swim faster. Hurry! but not "Swim faster! Hurry!"</div>
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Italics - Use italics to denote thoughts and quotation marks to distinguish the speakers during dialogue. Using quotation marks for thoughts confuses readers, who won't know if someone is talking or thinking.</div>
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Em Dashes - (this is my weakness) In dialogue, use an em dash to show someone getting cut off: "Come here."</div>
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"No, I - "</div>
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"I said come here!"</div>
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Ellipses (another of my favorites to use) - Use ellipses to show that someone's thoughts are trailing off:</div>
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"Come here."</div>
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"No, I . . . "</div>
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A pause. "You what?"</div>
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"Oh, sorry, I lost my train of thought."</div>
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So, there you have it. This came from my favorite magazine, Writer's Digest. It is chalk full of great information, websites just for authors, agents, publishers, everything a writer, like yourself, needs to know. </div>
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Good luck with your writing. Don't get discouraged if your muse decides to sleep when you want to write. I put on music and that's what wakes mine up. "Happy writing!"</div>
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-16028779605517843552020-03-14T19:31:00.000-07:002020-03-14T19:31:05.319-07:00The Four Ply Vampire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I’d never given much thought to
dying- though I’d had my reason enough in the last few months- but even if I
had, I wouldn’t have imagined it like this. Then, on top of it all, I survived.
I wish I had died. The yearning, the need, the want of the one thing that will
sustain my life is becoming extinct. Its texture, soft, sometimes course, but
nevertheless, I crave it so much that I have dreams about piles and piles of
it. Mountains of it. Such joy it gives my heart and then I wake up to my
nightmare.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I stared across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and she
looked pleasantly back at me. She’s beautiful. Skin ivory, soft, scented
lightly with Jasmine I just want to taste her lips. At least it was a good way
to die.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I knew that if I’d never gone to China, I wouldn’t be about to die now.
But, terrified as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the decision. When
life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it’s not
reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The hunter smiled in a friendly way as she sauntered forward to kill me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">**************************************</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Here I sit, half mad with hysteria, with towers of toilet paper rolls
around me. Yes, that’s right, I bought out the store. No one…I mean, no one
will get what my body craves…toilet paper. Its thinness, texture and light scent
drive me crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was that lady in
China, she did this to me. Made me a vampire of the toilet industry. Now, with
this Corona virus people are hoarding everything! They all think they’re going
to die, so what do they buy? My toilet paper!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I was out one night. I needed my fix. Four ply was my need this time. It’s
thickness. Chewing the papery texture, having it stick to the roof of my mouth…Oh,
Lord I had to have it! All of it, but it would be a battle of wits. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As I made my way to the paper aisle I could see the baskets. There were
at least five of them and loaded with…my toilet paper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“No!” I screamed and ran at the ladies. You should have seen their
shocked faces as I rushed their baskets and began biting into the fleshy,
plastic wrap that held them together. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I was a madman for sure, but I didn’t care. I bit into the first roll
like a monkey on a cupcake. Oh, it was pure heaven. I couldn’t stop. On and on
I went till I saw a fresh roll and started in on it! The crowd grew around us.
No one dared to come at me. There I was a roll in each hand and taking bites
out of them both as if it were my last day. Tissue was everywhere. I even
scraped up the bits that fell on the floor. Every morsel was tended to with
such delight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Then…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Grab him!” They got me. I put up a big fight though. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With a muffled voice I yelled out as best as I could, “You’ll neffer gef
thefs tiffoos! Neffer!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They locked me up. Fools. Don’t they know you can’t hold a vampire?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .1in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .4in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As I looked out my window, through the towers of my life sustaining
source, I tried to remember what my life used to be like, as a human. Steak,
potatoes, Sushi, fish and scores of other foods I’d eat and did I miss that?
No. I mean, you don’t need to grow toilet paper. You don’t need to kill cows,
pigs or goats for that matter. Toilet paper comes from trees. My brain started
to reel. My mouth began to drool. I found a new food source. TREES!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-974146136368220472018-11-18T20:12:00.001-08:002018-11-18T20:12:43.899-08:00Come to Life!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I go to Barnes and Nobles, not too often, which is sad, but often enough and I buy this journaling book/magazine called, Bella Grace, Life's A Beautiful Journey. It's got beautiful pictures, and thought provoking readings that get you to write.<br />
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I came across one of it's pages called, Tips for making your writing come to life. So, I thought I would share them with you.<br />
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* Throw out everything you learned about writing in school. This includes forgetting about five-paragraph essays, introductions that drag along, and long-winded sentences.<br />
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* Delete your opening paragraph. Some of the most compelling stories drop you right into the middle of them.<br />
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* WRITE MORE.<br />
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* Get to the point. Simple sentences are often the best way to go.<br />
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*READ MORE.<br />
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* Don't overly complicate things.<br />
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* Use your true voice. Write your story as though you are telling it to a friend. In fact, try recording it first. This adds an air of authenticity.<br />
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* Don't be afraid to make up words.<br />
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* Buy yourself a beautiful journal and use it.<br />
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* Pour your heart out onto the paper without trying to make it perfect. You can clean it up later.<br />
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* Wait until after you are done to title your piece. Look for interesting, unique phrases in your writing to use.</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-11457404101651165462018-06-07T05:45:00.001-07:002018-06-07T05:45:41.620-07:00Show AND Tell In Short Non-fiction<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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New writers are often advised to "Show, don't tell." Many have no idea what this means.</div>
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Mark Twin instructed: "don't report that the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream." More recently, bestseller Janet Evanovich wrote: "If your character walks out of his apartment, pulls up the collar of his coat, and goes searching through pockets for his gloves, you don't have to tell us it's freezing."</div>
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Both Twain and Evanovich are known primarily for their fiction. When it comes to nonfiction, though, while you don't want to list everything that happened to you from birth on, there are often compelling and necessary reason you should "tell" factual elements. Here's why you might need to show and tell when writing essays-and how to strike the perfect balance.</div>
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WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?</div>
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"Showing" can be described as painting a vivid picture of what's going on, using the kind of physical description, humor, pathos and dialogue that immediately brings readers into a scene in novels, short stores, poetry, nonfiction and on the screen.</div>
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"Telling" is when you report facts from an unemotional distance, the way you'd share resume highlights in a job interview. This kind of narrative summary gets a bad rap because it doesn't draw readers into the pages in the same way as "showing," but still, it's a significant part of the mix.</div>
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FIRST SHOW, THEN TELL</div>
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Even in a short personal essay, there's room to both efficiently "tell" information quickly and to "show" the important parts, as the brilliant essayist Phillip Lopate demonstrates in his book <u>To Show and to Tell. </u> Showing is often more effective at the onset of a piece of nonfiction when you only have one job: to lure the reader in. Or, as Hollywood director Billy Wilder suggested in his "Rules for Screenwriters" (Found in Conversations With Wilder by Cameron Crowe): "Grab 'em by the throat and never let 'em go."</div>
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STRIKING A BALANCE</div>
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Following these rules will ensure your essay is as completing and clear as it needs to be by helping you balance showing and telling.</div>
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1. Use past tense throughout. It's the most honest approach since the story you're writing has already happened. While in poetry, fiction and on-screen it's more common to use present tense, fewer newspapers or magazines will publish a present-tense nonfiction essay. Since it's an artsy conceit, often to make a piece feel more immediate, literary journals will sometimes publish creative nonfiction that plays with tenses. But you usually have to know the rules before you break them. For beginners, I suggest using the verb form that indicates that the action has already occurred. I also find it's easier to put everything in one tense. So instead of starting with past tense, then switching around to say, "I have always been the type to talk in my sleep," I would write, "I had always talked in my sleep." Just use past tense, which is easier to write, read and remember.</div>
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2. RECALL AS CLEARLY AS POSSIBLE. Nobody has a record of every word they spoke in the past. You don't have to say, "I remember that..." We know you remember it, that's why you're writing it. You can also cut the line, "I don't remember much, but..."Instead, add how you figured it out.</div>
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3. DON'T OVERDO DIALOGUE. Five or six lines of a conversation in a scene is sufficient for a 900-word personal essay. If you write an entire page of dialogue, that's a script.</div>
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4. DON'T START AT THE VERY BEGINNING. If I read the first line that goes, "I was born in Columbus, Ohio, the oldest of three children ..."I would stop reading.</div>
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5. BEGIN WITH BRAVADO. For example, "We met the day I replaced her." (Marie Claire) "I was married twice last summer." (The New York Times Magazine). Don't be afraid to be out there, crazy, brave, revealing and innovative. If you are using typical words that have been said many times, twist them differently. As the poet Emily Dickinson wrote, "Tell all the truth but tell it slant."</div>
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6. DON'T BOMBARD THE READER WITH FACTS. Don't overstuff the lede. In David Mamet's rules for drama, he says the audience only cares about three questions: 1) Who wants what from when? 2). What happens if they don't get it? 3) Why now? Everything else is irrelevant and can clunk up your first paragraph, rendering it boring or confusing.</div>
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7. DON'T REVEAL THE END TOO SOON. If you begin your essay, "After living through the worst divorce in the history of the world, I swore I'd never get married again, so walking down the aisle was a surprise, " you've given away too much information too fast. There's no reason to keep reading. Try something like this, "When I first saw the cute bearded man with glasses, I turned away, sure he wouldn't be interested in a 45-year old angry divorcee like me."</div>
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8. ANIMATE WITH HUMOR OR SELF-DEPRECATION. </div>
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9. COMMIT WHOLEHEARTEDLY TO ONE STORY. In the middle of reading a personal essay, I can't stand when a writer tosses in the cliche "But that's a whole other story..." or cuts to a tangent about another character or family. Push yourself into completing this essay, telling one story as if it's the last piece you'll ever write and publish, and it won't be.</div>
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To get your audience to read your essay from start to finish, make sure you balance show and tell throughout the entire piece. There's a lot that you need to tell your readers when crafting nonfiction and, if you show them why they should be interested, they'll be more than willto be told.</div>
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By Susan Shapiro</div>
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-41653447722829026732018-05-16T19:40:00.003-07:002018-05-16T19:40:59.824-07:00Open Mic Event at the Book and Bean Cafe at the Black Road Library in Joliet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Once a year our writing group, WriteOn Joliet, participates in the Open Mic at the Book and Bean Cafe. This year, as always, I read one of my Southern Shorts entitled, OPEN MIC EVENT. Enjoy!<br />
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<a href="https://youtu.be/DSF9VEK6Lt0" target="_blank"><img alt="My Southern Short/OPEN MIC EVENT" height="247" src="https://scontent-ort2-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/31337742_10211624376901812_2849096607687770112_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=b1cd49a3eaa97a4f1ceb4f42f0a560d4&oe=5B7F221A" width="320" /></a><br />
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-74346854142720584512018-05-13T17:48:00.002-07:002018-05-13T17:49:31.004-07:00Byony Series First Blog Tour/ Denise Unland<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">BryonySeries First Blog Tour Sue Midlock Vampires
1. </span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>What makes your vampires different from those that you've read? </b></span></span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
The characters are well-developed and three-dimensional. No doe-eyed teen romancers. No mindless, senseless blood debauchers. All four vampires (John Simons, Henry Matthews, Kellen Wechsler, and Ed Calkins) were once "real" people and are now undead.</span><br />
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2. </span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> Are your vampires completely fabricated or do you follow the mainstream...typical vampire? </b></span></span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
If by mainstream, you mean: super-violent and gory, romantic, misunderstood, vegetarian; and/or alive and infected with a virus...then no.
If you mean created from existing vampire lore, then yes.
Here's what 1970s teen protagonist Melissa Marchellis learned from her library book: Creatures of the Night: Witches, Werewolves, and Vampires. All of these elements appear in the BryonySeries.
* By day, vampires repose in their burial places; at night, they rise to feed, either to kill or control.
* Once under the vampire’s power, the victim joyfully welcomes the attack. The vampire may now come and go, as he pleases.
* Vampires by murder or suicide retain human traits, most notably a certain passion for life.
* Sharp teeth appear only when feeding.
*Bright red blood may trickle around the mouth.
* Vampires may consume solid food, but must expel it later.
* Experienced vampires tolerate small amounts of sunlight, although it decreases their abilities.
* Vampires travel silently.
* Vampires are expert shape-shifters. Common manifestations include wolves, bats, rats, other humans, and mist. (Denise's note: especially this last).
* Sometimes, vampires penetrate dreams.
* As predators, vampires possess keen senses, formidable strength, and fantastic speed, enabling them to teleport to other eras and locations.
* Vampires are wise.
* They exude sexual charm, control animals, and read minds.
* For a reliable slaying, drive an oak stake through a vampire’s heart and sever its head with a silver dagger.</span><br />
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3. What are the roles your vampires play in your novel?
Predators seeking their own gain, whether that be food or favors.</span><br />
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4. </span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> Is he/she intrigue by a human? If so, how? </b></span></span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Nope. Rather, Melissa is intrigued by two of the vampires. And she annoyed by and frightened of a third. And plain annoyed by a fourth.</span><br />
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5. Are your vampires' clothing period or up to date?
All characters, including the vampires, wear clothing appropriates to the periods in which they appear. Times periods in the entire series range from the seventeenth centuries to the 1990s, so lots of clothing variations.
One exception is Ed Calkins. When he appears in the nineteenth century, he always wears a kilt.</span><br />
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6. </span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>Whom do they compel and why?</b></span></span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
John: Melissa, for her blood. But he doesn't want her blood for food ("I dine later," he tells her). And he doesn't want her blood for love (which she hopes is really the case)
Henry: His victims. For food. But also for fun.
Kellen: His victims. For food. Unless they're rich and powerful. Then he lets them live, in exchange for wealth and influence (and the occasional snack to keep them in line).
Ed Calkins: Anyone who will listen.</span><br />
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7. </span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>Do your vampires have a hidden agenda? </b></span></span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Other than blood? No and yes.
No, in that the vampires make it clear from the beginning what they want. John wants a return to human life. Henry wants pleasure. Kellen wants power, control, and wealth. Ed wants fantasy and validation.
Yes, in that the agendas appear hidden to Melissa who has a "true love will save the man" agendas of her own.</span><br />
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8. </span><b><span style="color: #134f5c;">Do your vampires have a conscience?</span><span style="color: #4b4f56;"> </span></b><span style="color: #4b4f56;">
As vampires, no. Vampires are dead, and the dead have no conscience.
However, a sufficient amount of blood (over time or all at once) from one human source (the "legend" John is testing) can create a type of "faux" humanism with hints of elements that makes one human. And that includes twinges of conscience.</span></span><br />
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9. </span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> If you were to compare your vampires to any other one that was written, which would you say your vampire comes closest to? </b></span></span><span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; color: #4b4f56; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
The vampires in Bram Stoker's Dracula as a first, Sheridan Le Fanus's Carmilla for a second, and E.F. Benson's Mrs. Amworth for a third. All three feature distinct characters that appear normal during normal interactions and chillingly scary under the veil of darkness and nightmares.
As John tells Melissa when she catches a glimpse of reality and is terrified by it, "Always look forward or backward; never allow a peripheral glance, or you will view them in stark reality. Understand?”
And Melissa, preferring to see vampires as they want to be seen, complies.</span><br />
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10. Why do you think that vampire novels haven't died yet?
Because they appeal to our basest parts (pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed, and sloth), parts we bury but forever lurk, parts we can never fully eradicate. Add fear of that which our senses can't perceive, and you have a recipe for a magnetic story.
Or as Kellen told Melissa, "One act satisfies all the appetites. It's so efficient. I quite prefer it."
Such is the power of a good vampire story.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Thank you Denise for taking time out to answer a few questions of mine. I was very much intrigued by the answers and I'm sure everyone else was too! </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #f1f0f0; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Here is her book; </span></span><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bryony-denise-m-baran-unland/1107129852?ean=9780985274801" target="_blank"><img alt=" To Purchase" src="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/1573e3_d19e67f8f0814ccea812e7e4ef54b65e~mv2_d_1400_2098_s_2.jpg/v1/fill/w_240,h_358,al_c,q_80,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01/1573e3_d19e67f8f0814ccea812e7e4ef54b65e~mv2_d_1400_2098_s_2.webp" /></a><br />
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-83700398839201656902018-03-30T07:10:00.001-07:002018-03-30T07:13:10.466-07:00INVITING IDEAS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I went to a special last night for Marketing ideas, what works and what doesn't and it was really good. A lot of good came out of it and though we all would like to do well with our books, we know that can't always be possible. I know I never will and I'm happy with that. I'm happy for those who do my books and that I have a small fan base in Utica, Illinois. I'm happy!<br />
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What I'd like to discuss with you is writing. Just write for the love of writing if nothing else. "There's no question that only through persistent writing will you generate a lot of good idas. But joy and fun are important, too. We must find a balance." (Writer's Digest)<br />
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I'll be quoting tons of stuff that I read from Writer's Digest Magazine, because the article was very informative. "Unfortunately, there is no magic elixir we writers can brew to conjure ideas from the air, and though we've been told many times we're so creative, we often don't feel that way at all." I know I have felt that way many times and then I go back and read some of my earlier stuff and I'm like, "Whoa, that was really good and I wrote that."<br />
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Now, a long with writing we have our issues. Ideas don't come, our muse is on a vacation . . . FOREVER! Oh, oh...we are blocked! But there are ways to write more creatively, ways to keep your mind fresh and your imagination fertile. You possess the resources to come up with many good ideas- it's simply a matter of tapping into them, trusting them and understanding how your creative self works.<br />
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1. SHOW UP. You will find you have no end of ideas if you can make writing a regular habit by getting to your desk (or other creative space) regularly. Woody Allen famously observed that 80 percent of being successful in life is just showing up.<br />
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2. ACKNOWLEDGE THE DIFFICULTY. People (like me) say, "Just show up," as if were the easiest thing in the world to do. It's not, because writing creatively can be hard. So if you fall of your schedule, don't beat yourself up. Give yourself positive messages.<br />
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3. CULTIVATE THE HABIT. Like all things, writing becomes a habit. Get in the habit of NOT not writing. It's like anything in life that we try to reach, losing weight, eating better, exercise, etc., the same can happen with writing. Start small. Start cultivating the habit of NOT not writing.<br />
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4. FIND JOY AND GRATITUDE. There's no question that only through persistent writing will you generate a lot of good ideas. But joy and fun are important, too. We must find a balance. Cultivate gratitude even for the obstacles that stand in the way of your writing.. Recent psychological studies show that these obstacles aid creativity. Yeah, they do! Hard to see that am I right? Let me ask you this; have you ever suffered from TOO much time to write? We all wish we had more time to write, but when that happens...the well is dry. We don't feel creative. When we are bogged down with chores, meetings, getting the kids off to wherever they need to be or at work, when there is a lull, that's when were snatching an hour or a few minutes there, that's when the ideas seem to flow. Am I right? We find a way to make it happen, and that fuels our imaginations. So instead of cursing your obstacles, be grateful for them.<br />
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In the end, postponing your writing life is like postponing a new diet...it can be an excuse for never starting. Start now, if only in a limited way. You're not going to be a writer SOMEDAY; you're a writer today.<br />
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(a lot of what was said was taken from a great magazine I subscribe to, Writer's Digest, with some of my own thoughts...I am a writer you know. )</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-33892856743055215412017-07-12T07:57:00.001-07:002017-07-12T07:57:41.447-07:00Your Productivity Road Map<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Are the disruptions of daily life getting in the way of your writing goals? These tips will help you reach your destination faster and happier...without sacrificing sleep or sanity.</span></b> By Sage Cohen<br />
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Most writers want more time. Yet many of us aren't making the most of the time we already have. What gets in our way? Anne Lamott famously said, "My mind is a bad neighborhood I try to not to go into alone." It's our attitudes and habits that can make the neighborhoods of our minds difficult to navigate.<br />
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There are 11 steps. 1. Know your destination When you know what matters most to you in your writing life, you can steer the time you have toward getting there.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #6fa8dc;"><b>2. Chart your course.</b></span> In your writing life, understanding how side errands inform the path toward your goal can likewise help you chart your course. If you want to complete a short story collection and are also building a social media platform, it's important to recognize whether and how one goal informs the other in order to allocate your time in a that delivers the greatest value.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #6fa8dc;"><b>3.</b></span> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>Tighten your leash.</b></span> If you have a tendency to wander off into endless research when you need only a factor two, or you sink an hour into Facebook where you could've left a quick comment, the leash of intention can call you back. Try setting a timer when you need to use designated writing time to tackle an unrelated task.<br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>4.</b></span> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>Let your life inform your writing.</b></span> Have a system for capturing ideas, a recorder for the drive, a bathtub marker for the shower, a notepad in your gym bag. Or I have a HUGE post-it pad on my computer room door, to jot down thoughts, ideas.<br />
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5. <span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>Put a squirrel on the wire.</b></span> When a dog, who is old, who can barely move, sees a squirrel, they'll go after it. Discovering what your own irresistible motivations are will give you the most value from the time you invest in writing.<br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>6. Plant in the parking strip</b></span>. Are you overlooking any margins of time that could help your writing flourish? It's easy to pass up the sliver available as we yearn for the whole pie and yet, writers often panic, flounder and waste swaths of perfectly good writing time when we have them. A lot of my writing was found when my students were taking a test (PARCC, Star 360), or at a hockey game (really hard, but do-able), in the car or doctors waiting area.<br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>7.Travel in the Off-hours.</b></span> The less traffic on the road, the faster you'll get where you're going. Same is true for writing in the off-hours. What you can achieve between 5 and 6 a.m. while your family is sleeping and your mind is fresh may be twice what you could accomplish at the end of a long workday.<br />
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Leave yourself a trail of crumbs when you have a work-in-progress, particularly in the great, uncharted middle.</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-69467186548063214432017-04-07T16:04:00.003-07:002017-04-07T16:04:58.011-07:00Wickedness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The demons, they keep a constant vigil. Their pointy heads
and glaring eyes, stare at my face…beckoning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Just one wrong move…</span></div>
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<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One pointless
and needless move...and I am dirt. Ready to be stomped on </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Again…</span></div>
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<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And again…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And though I keep on, with head held high, a smile on my
face, inside I am shredded…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So much so that I am ill, weak and cry myself to sleep, for
days on end.</span></div>
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<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am in need of
solace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am singled out, tormented at best. These evil creatures
who torture my will to no end have not met their fate, for in time, I </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">will </span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;">win out. I </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">will</span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> be the victor and I </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">will</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> have…peace.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-87809881717041572762017-03-02T15:44:00.002-08:002017-03-02T15:44:44.008-08:00Bullying<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It has come to my attention that not only do kids get bullied at school but so do teachers. Yes, you heard me correctly. Teachers are bullied. They, teachers, give so much of themselves to teach children to get a good education, to get their dreams started, to build characters that one day will be a great success later in life. They even go above and beyond just teaching. They give positive feedback, they help build their students to be their best, to DO their best, they make sure they have supplies, which they buy themselves. Do they have too? No. They do it because they care. So where does the bullying come into play if this is how they treat their students?<br />
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There are some, not many, but some who, for whatever reason, need a lot of attention. They crave it and when they don't get the fix right away, they make bad choices. It's trying, especially when you have 29 other students to deal with.<br />
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I have dealt with many students, in varying ranges in behavior and disabilities. It has been stressful, so stressful that a few years ago after school had let out for summer vacation, I broke out with huge, itchy, welts all over my body...stress. There were other times where I had to have a walkie talkie with me at all times when I worked with one student because you'd never know when he would have a meltdown. Yes, I have been threatened.<br />
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I have left that school and I find myself in yet another school, but this one is different in so many ways. I love the teachers, more so than I did at my other school. They genuinely care, appreciate everything you do for them. It's been a great experience. The thing that is new for me is being bullied.<br />
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I am a forgiving person, I may get mad when pushed to my limits, but in seconds I will forgive that person and help them out as best as I can, but...<br />
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I have found good in a lot of students who are making bad choices, but have come to me for help and have behaved beautifully towards me and for them I am grateful. There is one who I have tried my best to see the good in him and still do, but it has gotten to the point where he is harassing me and talking about me in the classroom. It's done in front of me, smiling and laughing the whole time. He calls out my name and laughs when I come over to help him or so I thought, and starts to whisper to another student as he is looking at me. Oh, I know it's about me because I can hear him mention my name.<br />
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I've never in my 13+ years of being a paraprofessional, have come across a student who blatantly taunts me. I choose not to listen and ignore him, for I feel that if he can't respect me, why should I make the effort to help him. I know that sounds awful, not helping a student, but I can't and won't.<br />
It's a two-way street, you respect me and I will do the same.<br />
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I'm at my wit's end and I'm frustrated to the point where I wish to leave the school and go somewhere else. I can't deal with it anymore, but better judgment says, "no." I keep telling myself just four more years, four more then I can quit. Besides, he has one more year and he's off to High School. I CAN DO THIS.<br />
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-4077251153094310662016-11-08T16:32:00.002-08:002016-11-08T16:35:33.207-08:00My Days Woes...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Words, though calm</div>
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have sharp edges</div>
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that cut...</div>
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wound...</div>
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bleed.</div>
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Eyes that look</div>
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bore deep</div>
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and broken the shield</div>
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that is my strength.</div>
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You are not what I thought</div>
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the monster revealed</div>
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and now all is lost</div>
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I am forsaken.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
****</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Distrust is given</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my strength lost.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
****</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's an annoying beastie</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that ruins my day</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
who shuts the light out</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and dulls it gray.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Whose words are repeated</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
like an old folk song</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
grinding my nerves</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as the day is long.</div>
</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-42272488596275717382016-07-28T15:11:00.004-07:002016-07-28T15:11:48.043-07:00The Sunshine Bunch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hey guys! I'm back! Busy, busy me, but I've got great news to share and hope you will share along with me. My son, Bruce, is a talented graphic artist, as well as, illustrator. He is putting out his own comic book series, The Sunshine Bunch. Here's the deal, we are trying to get 100 likes on his page, and if he reaches it, he will post the first series tonight! Yes, tonight! So, come to his page, like it and then share with friends.<br />
<br />
Here is his link:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/thesunshinebunchcomic/?fref=nf" target="_blank">The Sunshine Bunch</a></div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-60190051636071452032014-07-04T19:01:00.000-07:002014-07-04T19:01:07.009-07:00Children's Stories not for children #56, I Was An Accident<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did you know that Willodean Ferris has a sister? I had no
idea! The only reason why I found this out was she introduced me to her . . . <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was in my kitchen making a cherry pie when someone knocked
at my door. “Oh, now who is it? I swear, every time I start a project, someone
either calls me or stops me from preparing my dinner.” This, of course, was
said under my breath, because the door was right off my kitchen, and I had my
window opened as well. So, I wiped off
my hands, and plastered a smile on my face.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey Charlese! I hope I didn’t disturb you!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>You always do, but
don’t let that stop you. </i>I thought to myself, still smiling though!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, no . . . you didn’t, come on in.” I held the door open
for her and someone else that looked remotely similar to Willodean. Could she be . . . no, Willodean would have
said something to me about having a sister a long time ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we stood in the kitchen, it was becoming sort of awkward.
No one was saying or introducing, so I just jumped in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi there, my name is Charlese and you are?” I held out my
hand toward her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi, um, my name is Raylene, Raylene Ferris.” And she shook
my hand. Now when you shake a person’s hand, mean it. Don’t be passive about
it. Lord, Gran would moan and complain after church if someone greeted her with
a dead fish. That is a hand shake where someone doesn’t grab your hand back,
just holds it out there for you to squeeze. It’s the worst feeling ever! Almost
if their saying I’ll go along with the action, just don’t expect me to mean it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had to stop for a moment. Think what she just said,
Raylene Ferris. “You . . . are you
Willodean’s sister by any chance?” Please don’t let there be two of them,
please God.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Why, yes, how did you know?” Sweet, <i>sweet,</i> Jesus . . . she is <i>exactly
</i>like Willodean. Proceed with caution.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Because your last name is <i>Ferris</i>.” Ring a bell yet?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, sure, sure. I’m so dumb!” Then she snorted. Charming. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, Raylene , in what I just saw, is like her sister. She’s dumber than a box of rocks, but I will
say, she has her own fashion statement. Yes she did, and it screamed for help.
She wore a pair of jeans, slightly baggie, and they were clean, neatly pressed
too, but had chartreuse whales all over them. Now her top was the same color as
the whales, long sleeved, and she buttoned <i>all
</i>the buttons . . . up to her neck. It
was eighty-nine degrees outside! Now her hair was like Willodean’s, in that it
was brown, but short and wispy. She also wore glasses, black ones. Big black
ones, she looked like a bug in heat. What struck me was that she wore no shoes,
just bare feet. It’s gonna be a long day, I can just tell.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I gave Willodean a look that said, <i>why didn’t you tell me you had a sister? </i>And Willodean played back
the same look I gave her. Yeah, a real long day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sit down here at the table, would you like something to
drink, maybe have some cookies, and while we’re at it, why you never told me
you had a sister?” I just blurted it out. When it comes to Willodean, you
sometimes have to be that way if you want to stay sane.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, I don’t know, you never asked! I’d like some lemonade
if you have some! Ray Ray would you like some too?” Ray Ray?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Why would I ask such a question when you gave me no reason<i> to</i> ask it?” I took out three tall
glasses and got the lemonade out of the fridge and poured. “Here.” As I sat them down on the table a tad
bit forcefully.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You alright Charlese? You look a bit tense. Something
bothering you?” She really didn’t have a clue in that pea size brain of hers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sorry, I’m fine, just tired, and hot. So what brings you
here?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I came to introduce you to my sister of course! You are
silly today. I don’t think you’re fine at all. I mean, you never met my sister,
so I brought her over here, and, well, it’s like you don’t even have a clue!
It’s real simple, especially when you never saw her before and . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I grabbed her hand just then. I couldn’t take it anymore, it
was like one long run on sentence, with too much repetition, that it didn’t
know when to stop, and I had to stop it! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Fine. Thank you for the introduction. Is there anything
else you’d like to tell me? Like what are your . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I was an accident.” Houston we have lift off! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked at her, then Willodean, who wasn’t shocked at all.
In fact, she had a big smile on her face, as if; she just farted and was
pleased with the after effect.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had to say something; this was too rich for words to
ignore. “I beg your pardon?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I was an accident! You know, not planned. I guess Mama and
Daddy in their lust for one another wasn’t careful and, well, here I am!” Well,
she was pleased as punch, so was Willodean! I on the other hand was in shock!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wanted to be a Psychologist just then and say, <i>“And this doesn’t upset you? You’re ok with
knowing this?” </i>So I did!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Your parents just came out and told you, you were an accident,
just like that? I mean, I’m sorry and all, but I’d be somewhat upset if I were
told that I was an accident. You seem to ok with it, are you?” I couldn’t
imagine the thoughts that were trailing in her tiny mind, well, I had somewhat
of a clue, which wasn’t telling me much, but still. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t wait for her
reply, couldn’t wait for her reply.“Well . . . “and took a long slug of my
lemonade, “. . . I guess that’s just great. Yup . . . great! Gosh, I’m tired; I
think I’ll go to bed. Thanks for coming over and it was a real pleasure meeting
you!” I rushed them out so fast, neither of them had a chance to say anything,
not even kiss my foot. I didn’t know
what else to do! I really didn’t! How
does one continue with this topic? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They must have thought I had lost it, rushing them out like
that, wanting to go to bed. I mean, shoot, it was still morning! Well now, I
guess that evens us up! With that thought in mind, I sat back down at my table
and finished my lemonade with a smile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-88363202723543313562014-07-04T17:00:00.001-07:002014-07-04T17:16:27.953-07:00Moon Doggies Apocalypse <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDqLVOXCBicMgaDo8d8bKk2vSXYiGkBZDG14yGRFX63aoMSPDGOBeKwbLfRsEnbhmn44egTSe5DJT4hpL6ByejOE2zeFWg1StXcSL5VTi6TAELrmetIS69SO042rTXyRsTQzfQO0Lzwc/s1600/th+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDqLVOXCBicMgaDo8d8bKk2vSXYiGkBZDG14yGRFX63aoMSPDGOBeKwbLfRsEnbhmn44egTSe5DJT4hpL6ByejOE2zeFWg1StXcSL5VTi6TAELrmetIS69SO042rTXyRsTQzfQO0Lzwc/s1600/th+(2).jpg" height="261" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was one of those hot days, the kind where you don’t want
to do anything but lay around, and that’s what I did, only on a beach. I had on
my white bikini with the red polka dots, which looked really good next to my
tan, and I was wearing my Foster Grants. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The beach was packed full of families, lovers walking hand
in hand, and of course, those that love to play volleyball. It was a great day to be had by all, until . . . <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, look what the lake washed up. I was wondering what
smelled so bad.” The voice was nasally, cringing on irksome. Lydia Hankshaw.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I opened my eyes and got the shock of my life. Not only did
Lydia have on a swimsuit, I’d say the swimsuit had Lydia. It was bright green,
with netting that covered her cleavage, not by much though. It snug in places
that couldn’t be snugged, which then jutted out other body parts. It was a mess
no doubt about that. She also wore one of those beach hats, with the wide brim
and rainbow sunglasses. Look out Tara Banks Lydia is on the runway!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Why, good morning yourself.” I said sweetly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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“I didn’t say that!” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“I know, but that’s the difference between you and I. I have
class, you don’t. Now, if you don’t
mind, you’re blocking the sun.” I was beaming from within. I finally told that bitch what for.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She took off with her big butt swaying in the sun. Whoever came up with the line, “Put it where
the sun don’t shine” got it all wrong, because the sun sure found itself on her
behind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After she had gone, I went back to sun bathing, while the
noise of those having fun calmed my frazzled nerves. It’s very rare for me to be here, I mean, I’m
always working and when I’m not, I’m working at home. If you got time to lean,
you got time to clean my Gran always told me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An hour had gone by without a scuffle, and I was starting to
get a bit warm. Sitting up, I noticed
the water was mighty inviting. So, I got up and started to walk on down when I
ended up running toward the water. The
sand, from baking in the sun was so hot, my feet were burning! I ran right in,
forget the inching in style, I needed cooling off in a big way! <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ah . . . the cool water bathed my sore feet, and
the deeper I got the more refreshed I became. It was truly satisfying. I was
now up to my waist when I sunk the rest of me under, it almost took my breath
away, but boy oh boy, it was doing wonders for my soul. I just stayed there, my head the only visible
part of me, and I watched while others were playing games, swimming with their
inflatables, or just doing what I was doing . . . people watching.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just as I thought things couldn’t be better, they weren’t. A
scream out of nowhere filled the air. Was someone drowning, was there a shark
attack? <i>Shark attack</i> . . . <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me . . .” I wadded back to
shore as fast as my little legs would carry me, but you can’t move fast while
in the water. It was like trying to run in a bog, and it’s next to impossible
to run in them things. I’ve tried it. Yup, Chester and me were hunting
alligators with his Uncle Jimmy Nell when we caught one. It was 400 pounds and
talk about your thrashing! It was twirling and twirling and they had a terrible
time with it. Well, I got up to get out of their way, when I tripped over the
wire. I lost my balance and fell overboard!
Man, you never saw anyone try to get back into that boat like I did. I felt
like I was moving in slow motion. The
thought of that alligator coming at me was enough to give me a heart
attack. Anyway, I did make it back in
and Chester, along with his Uncle, killed it and ended up getting paid a
mightly big sum.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back to the screaming─<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got back to the shore just in time to see people
scrambling all over the place, screaming and yelling to beat the band. It was
like a wild animal was loose or something, and everyone was trying to get away
from it ─ it wasn’t an animal, but something was coming after people. It was
person, I think, but nobody ever looked like this one. He was tall, well built, ugly as sin, and
smelled just as bad, if sin had an odor. His swimming trucks were not
altogether there. Parts of him were hanging out and I must admit, he did have
something worth smiling about. What was wrong with me? Here I am, watching a
true life Zombie Apocalypse right before my very eyes, and I’m getting heated
over some stinking guys junk. Where are my scruples?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I stood, motionless, I hadn’t noticed that Zombie ‘Moon
Doggie’ had spotted me, and decided to make my acquaintance. That was my exit cue, so I took off, but
again, have you ever tried to run in the sand, fast? And did you know that Zombies
could run fast? All the Zombies I ever saw, walked like they had dookie in
their pants, but not my Moon Doggie, his were . . . enough. I tried as best as
I could, but it wasn’t enough. Next
thing I knew he had grabbed hold of my ─ bikini bottom, that’s when I
stopped. No way, no how was I gonna keep
on running only to have my panties torn off of me. Seeing how his were almost
off, I didn’t want to give him any ideas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What do you say to a Zombie, other than scream? So I swatted
his hand. “Get your damn hand off my swimsuit.
<i>Bottom</i> just didn’t sound
right, again, didn’t want to give him any ideas. He just gave me that dead
stare, but he drooled. Charming ain’t he? “I said; get your hand off my
swimsuit, now!” He then smiled. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When he
opened his mouth to speak, I swore a fly came out. Now, that’s just gross. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He coughed, didn’t know they could, and said, “Annette?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did I hear him correctly, or did he just call me Annette? “I
beg your pardon?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A-Annette?” And pulled me in closer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought so. “Hunny, I ain’t your Funicello, my name is
Charlese.”<i> Why</i> am I introducing
myself?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, you Annette, come . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I almost got him loose when behind him came a group of other
charming fellows. All of them beefed up
to the max, not a one looked like the zombies I’ve seen on TV. These were
masculine, beefy guys, hunkered up for battle and like my Moon Doggie, half
dressed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Uh, you’ve got company.” I motioned for him to look, which
he did, but then looked at me in fear. I had to ask myself this, but why would anyone be afraid of his own kind?<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Trouble!” Was all he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah, I know, why are you telling me that? Aren’t they your
buds?” Damn, if I’m not dealing with a two year old.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No! We fight! My girl!” Then started to drag me toward
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then it hit me, Blanket Beach Bingo, are these zombies
reenacting the 1965 movie? I’ve got to be having a nightmare. Must
have been that Fish Taco I ate last night, looked good, but tasted like it
should have stayed in the ocean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Stop. Stop! Stop! I ain’t fighting no zombies, and I sure
ain’t your girl either. God . . . or whoever may have endowed you handsomely,
but that don’t mean I love you. Besides, this ain’t a movie that’s going on here, more like a nightmare if you ask me! I
don’t know where you guys came from, but I’m leaving, and take your stinking
hands off me!” I jerked my hand out of his so forcefully his own hand came off.
I screamed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sugar! Come back!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just kept on running all the way back to my blanket, got
my stuff, and headed for my car. As the engine came to life, I noticed all the
zombie guys waving at me. This is <i>so</i> weird! I waved back as I high-tailed it out of the
parking lot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A mile down the road, I felt better, but not completely. It
was a complete nightmare; I never, ever dreamed that something like that could ever happen,
on TV yes, real life, no. I needed some noise to take my mind off what had just
happened. When I switched on my radio the song, <u>These Are The Good Times</u>, by
Frankie Avalon came on . . . it was from the movie Beach Party Bingo ─ deja
vou. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-64287116831935086072014-06-13T08:23:00.001-07:002022-07-11T19:44:48.848-07:00The Writing Has Started!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9cALOHDloD67OOwswpXtdAy7dSWWwXxjuL5YwIuvDIyXTK9cPe5QSTbJJmP6v8Vjt_FgeR5HW-lIhP8XtHNE-3Cw_ICtuLsKN4gYrp8MLjj_nZwYgNXwV1w1Jp7216ATGgY2SgjrvrWU/s1600/Kane.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #333333; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9cALOHDloD67OOwswpXtdAy7dSWWwXxjuL5YwIuvDIyXTK9cPe5QSTbJJmP6v8Vjt_FgeR5HW-lIhP8XtHNE-3Cw_ICtuLsKN4gYrp8MLjj_nZwYgNXwV1w1Jp7216ATGgY2SgjrvrWU/s1600/Kane.jpg" width="213" /></a><span>I have started writing the third and final book of my Birthright series, Kane. It is about how Kane came to be in his short life as human. His journey that brought him to Utica, in his need to find himself, start a new life and perhaps . . . marriage, but if any of you know, those of you who have read my first two books, knows what happens to him.</span></div>
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<span>I've re-written chapter 1 three times now. My muse has finally came back from vacation, for I have written what I am to believe something quite thrilling so far. As in my other books, where cliff hangers were at the end of every chapter, so too are they in Kane.</span></div>
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<span>I'm thinking this one won't be as long as the others, but who knows, it could be longer! Either way, fans, I am writing the last book. The sound of that sounds so depressing, "the last book". I'm trying to figure out what my next book would be about, not sure yet, I do want it to be fantasy. I had started a book many years ago, and never finished it, so maybe this would be my next adventure. It's about three girls whose birthdays fall on the same day, but long before their births a book was written, about them, about the trials their town and of others who they must save. Each one having been born with a power, but on their 16th birthday are given a ring that enhances that power. Sort of a modern day Lord of the Rings type story. Takes place in Ireland. What do you think?</span></div>
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<span>I'll keep you posted! Keep dropping by!</span></div>
</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-65884826208229014962014-06-08T14:34:00.001-07:002014-06-08T14:34:26.932-07:00Another Lesson Learned<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Being an artist/author, has its downs and ups. I've been rather busy, trying to get my last and third book written, illustrating a children's book and lastly, designing book covers for a Indie Publishing Press.<br />
<br />
Now, I have written many things about what to look out for in the writing world, publishers, etc., but I have not written anything about the artistic aspect of the business. It too, has its drawbacks. <br />
<br />
I recently was taken on with a Indie Publisher, one of who I will not name only because I have yet to hear back from them, which is why I left them in the first place . . . lack of communication. I don't know much about how the publishing press itself holds itself toward the creation of the book cover. What I mean is, how much of an input do they really have in their book covers. As it stands, I had always worked with the authors and not the people within the publishing press. Stands to reason wouldn't you think that the author would be the one you would work for, seeing how it is their book you are creating the cover for, but this was not to be true according to this publisher.<br />
<br />
First of all, when I applied for this Publishing Press, I was told that they would get back to me within 4 to 5 days. . . it took them two weeks before I heard anything back from them. I figured they didn't want me and this was their way of telling me. So, a red flag went up when I did hear from them wanting me (should have listened to my red flag).<br />
<br />
So, I got the position, started with my first cover. Now, cover artists get paid $50 for their work, $25 for taking on the job and $25 for when the cover is finished. Fourteen Days, was the book I was designing for and I was becoming very frustrated with it, for I had already done this cover fourteen times, maybe more and the publisher still didn't like it, author did, but I'm not suppose to converse with them, because according to this publisher the author really doesn't know what he/she wants . . . "excuse me?"<br />
<br />
Well, I got that cover done, but when it came time for the next one, again, the following week I was to get my next assignment. Two weeks into waiting and I write again, so I finally get a response. Now, with this Publisher, they send you all the information about the storyline, information from the author as to what he wants in the cover (I thought authors didn't know what they wanted?).<br />
<br />I read the information thoroughly, and started in, what then happened was that my cover wasn't what the Publisher was asking for, even though that's what was asked of me to do with it . . .<br />
<br />
To end this she apologized to me for the mis-communication and if I liked the cover she had concocted up with, then it would be fine, and that she'd give me another one to assign. She did, but what she was asking she didn't have the images for and I wasn't about to spend any more money buying my own images, when they have a database full of usable images. <br />
<br />
Yeah, I had to buy some images, because the Publisher wasn't getting back to me when I was requesting images for the book cover. So, I quit.<br />
<br />
So, authors, if you go into an Indie Publishing, make sure you have most of the input as far as how you want your book cover to look like. I think it's weird that the publisher has sole creativity in that department, makes no sense at all to me. I really should have listened to the bells and whistles that were going off in my head when I started working for them.</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-65961954580439307672013-12-06T11:24:00.000-08:002013-12-06T11:24:06.705-08:00The Long Awaited Sequel Is Out!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img class="image-stretch-vertical frontImage ieTransition ieBookShadow frontUnrotated" height="200" id="imgBlkFront" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41VoPmzQc4L._SY344_PJlook-inside-v2,TopRight,1,0_SH20_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" style="left: 0px; max-height: 346px; max-width: 217px; position: absolute; top: 0px; transform-origin: 50% 50% -20px;" width="125" /><br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Legacy-Birthright-Series-Volume/dp/1492918032/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1386357298&sr=8-4&keywords=Sue+Mydliak">http://www.amazon.com/The-Legacy-Birthright-Series-Volume/dp/1492918032/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1386357298&sr=8-4&keywords=Sue+Mydliak</a><br />
<br />
I've been gone I realize that, sick and under much stress, but here today to let you all know that I haven't left and that the long awaited sequel to Birthright is finally here, <u>The Legacy</u>, and at Amazon in both paperback and eBook formats.<br />
<br />
It has received a 5 star review so far, which I'm really excited about and I've added at the end, the first chapter of the third and final book to this series. Due out next year.<br />
<br />
The third and final book of the Birthright series is going to be my crowning achievement, in that, I plan on doing something that the first two books don't have. I think readers of all ages will like what they see and hopefully it'll add to the excitement that this last book has to offer. It'll be a bit more<br />
on the 'artsy' side, as far as, the interior goes and I don't know if any self-published authors have done<br />
this yet with a fictional book. <br />
<br />
Getting excited yet? Hope so.<br />
<br />
You may have noticed, slight changes within each book, so just be prepared for my last one.<br />
<br />
Get your copy of <u>The Legacy, </u>you won't want to miss what's happening to Candra now! It's positively mind blowing. I mean that . . . literally!<br />
<br />
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A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-37852614475137548422013-10-10T18:36:00.004-07:002013-10-10T18:39:38.971-07:00Alone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZvKnkowB9Jj4u4kvqcMFoT0fN3BejR2nLvNKESz-D30T4UXwF9Qmig_Vmg0qjNCKxzym2Cj_NSrOkZinwrX-8_BfqCspmiPluJ_WbE8WNA1IggI-zxeM-Acse0_rZG8C12_Ev50hwB0/s1600/Birthrightnew.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZvKnkowB9Jj4u4kvqcMFoT0fN3BejR2nLvNKESz-D30T4UXwF9Qmig_Vmg0qjNCKxzym2Cj_NSrOkZinwrX-8_BfqCspmiPluJ_WbE8WNA1IggI-zxeM-Acse0_rZG8C12_Ev50hwB0/s320/Birthrightnew.png" width="240" /></a>Day after day<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I rise and weep<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
for the world outside is so cold<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and yet, I am to believe that this is not true<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but tis the truth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The lost soul of one who I teach, reach and give<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
is a battle unto himself and I am the lone warrior<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
who must defend myself from him, for he knows not<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
what he does and when I reach for help there is<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
none to give nor receive…for I am by myself in this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I revel in my successes I call to those most<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
dear to my heart, but goes on bended ear, none shall<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
hear and so I weep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is those that I speak of, those who I’ve known all my<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
life that I weep mostly for, for I, the accused, am blamed<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
for the attendance I give not and yet, when I call out to
them<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
they hear me not and so I weep once more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is now that I must contemplate what I desire most and
that<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
is my happiness and so I shall.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You shall not hear from me again, nor feel the warm embrace<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
for I who so willingly gave to you and was shunned, close up
the<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
walls and leave the coldness out and there I shall be,
alone, content<o:p></o:p></div>
and happily so.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-78456830942288879792013-07-11T13:26:00.000-07:002013-07-11T13:26:22.335-07:00I'll say it again...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know I've said some things on marketing yourself as an author, and how to get your books out to the masses, but I've got more to add. <br />
<br />
I can't stress enough how important it is to have business cards with your book, author website and author email on it to pass out to people wherever you are! Novel postcards are awesome too, because on the one side you have your book cover with a link to where people can purchase them, on the other side a synopsis of what it's about. Right there, that simple little 3x5 card can sell a book in minutes! I kid you not!<br />
<br />
For example, I went to a book signing at Hanks Farm Restaurant, given by the Book Mouse and as always,<br />
I had my business cards and novel postcards with me. As we sat down at the table, oh, this was a dinner book signing event, anyway, as we sat down we shook hands with three people that sat next to me and my husband, another author friend came in, Jakob Waitekus, and sat down next to us as well. So, names were given out and conversations kicked in. Much to my surprise, my husband mentioned that Jakob and I were authors as well with the Book Mouse and so that's where I got my motor running. <br />
<br />
They asked what I wrote and that's when I gave out my novel postcards. All three of them read the synopsis and were quite eager to get their copies as well, they even asked me to sign their postcards too! I also told them that I would be at the Riverfest, August 3rd, which is in Ottawa, Illinois selling and signing my books. They couldn't wait and asked about other books that I had written, to which, I told them and said that they'd find all my books on Amazon under my name.<br />
<br />
Needing to get Jakob noticed about his book, I asked him if he had his business cards to give to them as well, and sadly he didn't have them with him. He could of had a sale, if he had his cards.<br />
<br />
It's so very important, even if your book isn't even published yet, to get yourself business cards and novel postcards, and give them out religiously! I even went as far as getting a large window decal of my book<br />
and where to get it and put it on the back window of my Smart Car.<br />
<br />
It doesn't take a lot of time to make them, in fact, you can go through Vista Print, Walgreen's or even Office Max and get them made! All you need to do is either use your own image or one of theirs and fill in the information. That's it! Simple right? Yes!<br />
<br />
I got to say, can't always rely on others to market your book, especially if you self-publish. Just takes a little thought, and thinking outside the box.<br />
<br />
Good luck to all you new authors!<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-69482892047203095772013-06-03T20:22:00.003-07:002022-07-11T19:53:57.640-07:00The Trump Card<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was
another crap day in Dry Prong and I was fit to be tied. For days on end the weather had been gloomy,
gray and wet. Rain kept on coming and
not letting up at all and I swore I thought I saw someone pull out their
canoe.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked
over at Willodean Ferris’ house and so far it hadn’t budged off its foundation,
not yet that is, but her yard was beginning to look like a pond or so the geese
thought so, for there were three of them gliding along the water. I decided to
give her a call.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey
Willodean, how are you holding up?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, I
guess alright, but you know, I’m really worried about something?” Her voice got
all shaky when she spoke.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s
troubling you?” Now, if you know Willodean like I do, then you know a bug could
have smiled at her and she’d be having a fit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well,
the geese seemed to have found a home in my back yard and . . . well, what’s
gonna happen when the water dries up?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See, I
told you so. “I guess they’ll just fly away to some other pond. Is that a problem?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well,
yeah that’s a problem, because were like family now. I mean, look how content
they are back there! I wouldn’t want them to leave thinking I took their water
away from them. I don’t like hurting anybody you know that, even if they are
just animals.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stood
there for a moment, let what she said sink in real deep and then spoke, “Hunny,
I don’t think those geese could care less if you had water or not, because they’re
just geese! They go wherever they find water and park themselves in it. They
don’t know whose lawn or park it is, they just come!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh,
Charlese, now you don’t mean that really do you? They certainly do know where
they’re at. They know it’s me, because I always leave bread crumbs out for them
to eat on the old tree stump.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Willodean,
unless you have a sign that says, The Honkers Bread Tray Café, they really don’t
know. To them its food left outside,
nothing else.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There
was silence for a few seconds, I could hear her breathing, sniffling . . .
sniffling?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Willodean
are you crying?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, I
mean, yes. They can’t leave me! Charlese will you help me make a fence around
my pond so that they won’t fly away?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was
afraid of this, I surely was. I could see it coming just as plain as the nose
on my face and it did, big time. I wanted to tell her that putting up that
stupid fence wasn’t going to keep them . . . they can fly for pity sake! As for
the <i>pond</i>, it wasn’t going to stay
either, because there was never a pond to begin with, it’s just over soaked
ground. Pond my fat brothers ass.
Tension was building up inside me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are
you serious? Willodean, they can fly, they have wings and all. Putting up that
fence . . .”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t
you tell me another negative thought Charlese, you’re gonna help me like a
friend should and that’s all there is to it.
Now, you coming to help me or are you gonna be impolite?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She
just trumped me, the impolite card. My gran always told me to be polite, to be
neighborly, because what you give to those in need you reap big rewards. I like to know what my big reward was gonna
be putting up that fence. I would also like to know where Gran learned that
from, because whoever said it didn’t know Willodean very well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh,
alright I’ll be over.” I slammed the phone down on its receiver and swore a
bunch of times as I stomped into my bedroom to get my work clothes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Willodean
has done some dumb things in her life, but I would have to say that this beat them
all. I was testy, tugging at my clothes as I changed and shoved my feet into my
crummy old tennis shoes. I was so mad I
wanted to just throw my shoes instead. I
wanted to throw them at something or someone, Willodean perhaps. The thought
made me smile. “No, I can’t do that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I
stomped my way over to her house. She stood there cooing at the dumb geese and
talking all sugary to them, made my stomach turn it did. I cleared my throat to get her attention.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh,
you’ve come to help me how thoughtful!” She smiled so big that her teeth and
gums took up most of her face. Charming.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah .
. . thoughtful. What do you want me to do?” I so did not want to be here. No,
no, no!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well,
see that chicken wire and those metal fence thingies, we need to put the fence
thingies in the ground, space them about three feet apart in a nice circle,
then we’ll wrap the chicken wire around them!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t
say anything, because if I had, well, you don’t want to know. I went over took
one of the green, metal <i>thingies</i> and
began to shove them into the ground. Good thing the ground was soaked, because
it just made working easier and faster. There is a God. As soon as I got all
the posts in, I looked for Willodean to see if she was ready for the chicken
wire . . . she was. I just drooped my head in disbelief. There she was, draped
with a chef apron, long, long, green cleaning gloves and goggles. Oh, and
shower cap. Her hands held up in front of her as if she were about to operate. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What
in blue blazes are you dressed up like that for?” I felt the pangs of laughter
creeping up and I slapped my hand over my mouth when it kicked in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With
the look of sheer seriousness she said, “Why Charlese, when you’re working with
wire you should always be safe.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s
when I let it rip. “Safe? Safe from what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She
straightened herself up taller and glared at me. “Why safe from getting hurt by
the wire of course!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
sniggered. “Ok, Willodean, whatever. Let’s
just get this done so I can enjoy the rest of my day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
drizzle of rain that had been falling just kept on, and I was becoming cold and
terse. There I was holding the roll of chicken wire as <i>Go Go Gadget </i>hooked the wire around the posts. It looked dreadful,
but Willodean thought it was a work of art. I was just glad to be finished.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There,
see? Doesn’t it look lovely? And my geese will always be here to greet me! I
could sit out here and share my lunch with them and watch them swim. Thank you
Charlese for helping me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seeing
her face all lit up like a candle and hearing how thrilled she was at having
them geese in her yard, well, I was happy for her. “Glad to have helped. I’m
going now, take care.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
slowly turned myself around and headed home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
days of doom and gloom finally left and I woke to find sun shine coming through
my windows. It was going to be a great day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Come
back, come back don’t leave, look I have bread crumbs!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t
have to look, I already knew what had happened. The geese were leaving, just
like I told her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Stupid
birds!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Geese
. . . “I mumbled to myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671206028513098732.post-64440950981824101652013-05-21T10:01:00.001-07:002018-05-09T19:36:15.048-07:00The Shredded Wheat Catastrophe <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Dry Prong was having its usual dry
season, where everything and everyone screamed for water. Just this morning I
looked at my front lawn and heaved a heavy sigh.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Shredded wheat.” That’s what my
lawn looked like. All I needed was a little milk and my breakfast would be
complete.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Hey, Charlese! Whatcha looking
at?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Billy Beauford had just walked up
and caught me starring at what once was a beautiful, green lawn. “Oh, hey
yourself, what brings you out this way?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Now I’ve known Billy since I was
knee high to a grasshopper and even then I didn’t like him much, but now that
I’ve grown up I don’t kick him in the shines anymore, I’ve resisted those
temptations.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“I was on my way to the Five and
Dime to get me a Coke. You want to come along?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Why sure, just you mind yourself
though. I’m hot and cantankerous, a force you do not want to mess with.” I was
too. Gran, if she was still around, would stay clear away from me when I was in
such a mood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Oh, no, no, no . . . “and held the
last <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">no </i>out for a few seconds longer before
stopping.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I eyed him curiously, “We’ll just
see about that.” I was cautious, but decided to go anyway, besides, the thought
of a icy, cold drink sounded real good.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The Five and Dime was a mile down
the road and by the time we got there sweat was trickling down my back. I
looked over at Billy and he looked as though he’d had just finished running a
race. His t-shirt was drenched and his face was beat red.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">As I came up to the door, Billy ran
in front and opened it for me. “After you.” And swept his arm toward the
opening, a jester of gentlemanly ways, I wasn’t having any of it. If I had
known any better, which I do, he was up to something. I eyed him curiously.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“What?” He questioned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“You know what; I know what you’re
up to, so you can just get them thoughts out of your head.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Charlese, I wouldn’t . . .”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Again, I said nothing but gave him
my look of death. He shut his mouth real quick like.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Now the Five and Dime store is not
one I frequent a lot, but when I do, it’s usually for their sale items that I may
need from time to time. Making my way toward the back of the store, I noticed
how eerily quiet and still it was. I looked over at the owner who always stood
behind the front counter. He seemed to be ok, but as I stared longer I noticed
he hadn’t flinched or moved a muscle. Odd, that’s when I turned back around and
went to the counter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Mr. Zamood? Um, you ok?” I waved
my hand in front of his face . . . nothing. He was so still, like a wooden duck
floating on a pond.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I went hesitantly went about my
business, looking over at Mr. Zamood every once in awhile when I came face to
face with a drink.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Here you go Charlese! I went ahead
and got you a drink. Hope you like it, it’s Coke.” He was grinning from ear to
ear and so pleased with himself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Slightly startled I replied
politely, “Why thank you Billy, that was real nice of you.” I sparkled and
oozed excitement, which made his day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We went over to the counter where
Mr. Zamood stood stock still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Billy, not
realizing what was going on was jabbering away, fishing his money out of his
pocket while complaining how hot the weather was.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Billy?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Yeah?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“I think something is wrong with
Mr. Zamood, see.” I pointed hoping he’d see what I was talking about and he
did. Next thing I knew Billy was waving his hand and making faces at the man.
Really?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Billy, even though Mr. Zamood . .
. “</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Then the strangest thing happened,
Mr. Zamood started to foam at the mouth and his eyes rolled back into his
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was convulsing!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Billy get away!” But it was too
late. Mr. Zamood grabbed a hold of Billy’s throat and pulled him inward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Protection mode set in and I
grabbed his ankles and held on for dear life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There we were, having ourselves a human tug-of-war and as far as I could
see Mr. Zamood was winning.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“You let go of him you hear me?” I
placed my feet against the bottom of the front counter, using it as leverage,
but for some strange reason, Mr. Zamood was extremely strong, especially for
being sixty-nine years old. Nothing I said to him got through he was bound and
determined to have Billy for himself and on any given day I’d say go for it,
but his was different, Billy was in danger.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I looked around desperately for
anything I could use as a weapon and the only thing I spotted was a stand for
Zippo Lighters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, for a few seconds
the thought of zombies came to mind and I remember watching a TV show that had
burning zombies in a road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Zamood
didn’t seem like a zombie normally, but today he had all the signs of being
just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a deep breath; I
realized I had to kill a man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not
going to make Gran happy, that’s for sure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The trick now was how to get one of
them lighters without losing Billy in the process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was only inches away, so if I let go for
just a second not much would happen, hopefully.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Sorry Billy, but I have to do
this, but you’ll thank me in the end!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“What?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I let go with my left hand and off
he went over the counter. I quickly grabbed me a shiny, red lighter, flicked
open the lid and clicked the leaver which would ignite gas with spark. All this
time, Billy was battling a life and death situation and it wasn’t looking too
good either.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Alright you, I warned you and now
you’re toast!” I reached over the counter and lit the corner of Mr. Zamoods
shirt. It caught fire real fast and the flames spread up and outward as his
whole shirt was now<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started to scream and bat at the flames,
while I yelled at Billy to run.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Come on Billy let’s get out of
here quick!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I waited as he climbed over the
counter and out we went. We ran until our legs couldn’t run no more and then
sank to the ground with exhaustion. I had never in my life been so afraid.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“You ok?” I said panting like a dog
in summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My throat was even more
parched than when we first started out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We sat there for awhile, sirens
coming from a distance got louder and louder as black smoke streamed up into
the sky. Billy just pointed as he gasped for a breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t even want to imagine what was going
on now, but I had a pretty good idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not only was Mr. Zamood on fire, but the store too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, boy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“What do you suppose Mr. Zamood
was?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounding breathy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I hadn’t a clue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Zamood wasn’t from these parts, he was
from India, and if their culture had a tendency for zombies then I guess that’s
what he was, but I couldn’t be sure. I knew though that we’d never know the
real answer, dead people don’t talk or so I’ve been told.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Know what Billy?” You owe me a
Coke, but seeing how I’m feeling generous, how about you coming over and I’ll
give you one?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Billy smiled like I’ve never seen
him smile before. “You sure?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Yes, I’m sure, but mind you, this
ain’t no invitation for catching some bases. You just mind your p’s and q’s or
else!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Oh, sure, sure, I’ll behave,
besides you saved my life, I ain’t gonna ruin that for nothing. So, um, thank
you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We were only minutes away from my
house and by the time we had reached my front porch I told him to have a seat
and I’d be right back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went in to the
kitchen and opened the cabinet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
decided to use my bright, orange tumblers that Gran had gotten from Woolworths
a long time ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They always made me
feel special and today I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was </i>feeling
special.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had just saved a person’s
life and to me, that was a big deal.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Just as I was pouring two hands
wrapped themselves around my waist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
hadn’t heard Billy come in.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Charlese, I just want you to know,
just how appreciative I am by the way you saved my life today. That was a brave
thing you did today.” He snuggled in closer and I got the rare feeling that he
was overly grateful in more ways than one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Billy, if you don’t let go of me
this instant, I’ll show you the meaning of the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">appreciate</i> real fast.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
my words went on deaf ears as lips nuzzled my neck.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Two can play this game.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I brought my arms up, in a jester
that gave the impression that I was allowing him to take pleasure in me and
then, without a flinch from me, grabbed a handful of hair in both hands and
pulled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Oh, Charlese let go, let go!
You’re hurting me!” His hands reached up to grab mine, but I let him have it
below and kicked him in the shins. He was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">owing</i>
and<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> ooing</i> as legs were going up and
down, trying to diverge my feet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Why should I? You weasel you! How
dare you take liberties on me after what I did! Are you insane?” I held on
fast, I wasn’t letting this one go, not yet at least.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“I’m sorry, just let go!” Sorry my
ass.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“If I let go, you promise to walk
out that door and never, and I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mean</i>
never come back to my house again?” He squirmed and thought on that for a
second.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“I promise, just let go!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I held on for a little bit
longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was enjoying seeing him squirm
like a worm on a hook, but I knew I had to let him go, so I did and backed
away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Out!” And pointed to the direction
of my door.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">He rubbed his head all the while
looking like a bad puppy with his tail between his legs . . . come to think of
it; you could probably take that literally. He moseyed past me and out the
door, the whole time rubbing his damn head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I watched him go down the steps off my porch, across the yard to the
street and back to his house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Just before I went in to clean up,
I looked at my lawn and sighed.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
</div>
A Novel is Bornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17010475983345994905noreply@blogger.com0