Poetry Month: Secrets

April 12, 2015April 9, 2015 / Caitlin Stern / 2 Comments

April is National Poetry Month. I’m celebrating with Writer’s Digest’s Poem a Day Challenge. I’m sharing a few of my favorites. This poem was from the second, the topic: secrets.

Blossom

The best kind of secrets

are the ones you are waiting

to share

that blossom warm and bright

in your heart

and make you smile

for no reason at all

because you know something

no one else does

yet.

Tell me those secrets

I will share your smile

and we will be twice as incandescent

together

The worst kind of secrets

no one wants to share

pain

shame

guilt

like an anchor

dragging you down but you have to

tread water and smile

because you want no one to know

Tell me those secrets

I will cry with you

and help you chip at the chains

holding you down

one day you will break free

You can escape alone

but you don’t have to

Tell me your secrets

and I’ll tell you mine

Poetry Month: Resistance

April 10, 2015April 9, 2015 / Caitlin Stern / 2 Comments

April is National Poetry month. I’m doing Writer’s Digest’s Poem a Day contest. I’m sharing a few of my favorites. This is from Day 1, a poem about resistance.

National Poetry rose

Negated

There’s a

in my heart but not

on my lips

You asked for something I wasn’t

willing to give but you didn’t

wait for my answer

You assumed it had to be

yes

My smile is a double agent

a carefully constructed lie

I drag my feet and hope you change

your mind

If you don’t

there will come a revolution

Benefits of a box set

April 9, 2015April 9, 2015 / Aimee Easterling / 8 Comments

I know I’ve been missing in action for the last few months, but I couldn’t resist dropping by to share my experiences with taking part in a box set with 20 other authors. First of all, if you haven’t heard of the Secret Worlds box set yet, you can check it out here. The set is an amazing deal, currently at 99 cents and containing 21 full-length novels from bestselling authors. I’ve been enjoying working my way through the offerings and have lots more fun reading ahead of me!

Okay, self promotion aside, it’s time to get back to the point. Why might you choose to take part in a box set as an author? Here were my reasons for joining in:

To get that coveted “USA bestselling author” tag at the end of my name. Our organizer was able to launch last year’s box set onto the USA bestsellers list, and we hope to do the same this year.
To learn new marketing techniques from other authors. It’s amazing how, when everyone pitches in, you get to learn from other authors’ strengths. For example, the teaser images some of our box set’s participants are churning out are unbelievable!
To add visibility to my other books. Thousands of copies of the box set sold should mean at least hundreds of new readers who want to read the next book in my series. (I hope!)

All of that said, I don’t recommend that small fry like me organize a box set. I can tell that our organizer is putting in three times as many hours as I am, and her experience is what will make Secret Worlds sink or swim. But I do think it’s a good idea to be on the lookout for box-set opportunities to participate in. Because learning new skills and increasing your visibility is one of the most important things an indie author can do. Well, that and write….

Virtual part invite – new release THE WORLD AND THE STARS

April 9, 2015 / Deborah Jay / Debby Lush / 7 Comments

Just a quick note to say, if anyone has the time – tomorrow (today? – not sure, what with time differences), Friday 10th, anyway, I’d like to invite you to drop in to the virtual facebook party I’m hosting for the release of my latest book – an anthology of science fiction and fantasy stories by my writer’s group and friends.

And yes, I have a story in there as well as acting as publisher.

We’ve dedicated the book to our founder, Peter T Garratt, who sadly passed away at the young age of 54, and is much missed.

He would have been very proud of this book.

I’m planning entertainment, chat, and a few competitions with small prizes, so even if you only have a few minutes, you’re welcome to just drop in.

8pm – 11pm British Summer Time, BST, (you can find a time converter here) and the party is on facebook here

Hope to see a few of you there 😀

Oh, and in addition, I’m offering FREE copies to anyone who would like to review…

Once divorced. Has fear of clowns — things you may not know about me

March 31, 2015March 31, 2015 / Ned's Blog / 3 Comments

Ned Hickson

This week, Marcia has asked us to tell something about ourselves that others may not know. Whether this is to help us learn a little about each other, or for Marcia to collect incriminating information, I’m not sure. But I DO know Marcia is a gracious interviewer who had me on her other site Bookin’ It last year, during which she hypnotized me into revealing things from several past lives. What follows is an excerpt from that interview that actually reveals some things about both of us…

Marcia: Welcome to Bookin’ It, Ned. It’s great to have you here today. Can you tell us a bit about how you became a writer?

Ned: I am frequently asked how I became a writer. Mostly by my editor here at Siuslaw News. Except when she says it, the words sound more like an accusation than a question. I can honestly say I’ve been a storyteller since as far back as I can remember, back before I could actually write words. My mom used to record my spontaneous stories on cassettes, which she lovingly kept, knowing that someday I would want them and be willing to pay any price to keep them from falling into the hands of someone like Jerry Springer. By the time I was in middle school, I was writing regularly and exploring storytelling through making my own comic books, stories on cassette with background music and sound effects, and eventually movies with a Super 8 camera. Yeah, I was that kid. After graduating from high school, I drove to Texas and found work as a busboy before eventually making my way into the kitchen. A few years later, I was promoted to head chef, then regional chef in Atlanta, Ga. But even while pursuing that career, I continued to write short stories and a mystery novel in hopes of writing full time someday. In 1998, after returning to Oregon with my family, I was hired as a sports editor and columnist at Siuslaw News here in Florence, Ore. That’s really where my “professional” writing career began. Clearly, I’ve always been a late bloomer.

Marcia: Wow! Like me, you started young. Unlike me, you have your tapes and movies to prove it. Also, unlike me, you didn’t wait until you were ancient before settling into the career you were obviously meant to pursue, for which I, like all your readers, am immensely grateful! Can you tell us a bit about who inspired you? What authors did you enjoy growing up, and in what ways?

Ned: I didn’t actually read much as a kid. *An audible hush fills the blog-o-sphere* However, my grandmother introduced me to the short stories and novels of Stephen King when I was in my late teens, which inspired me to try my hand at horror-themed short stories. It wasn’t until several years later, during my first marriage, that my horror writing really evolved and I found some publishing success. I don’t think this is a coincidence. Haha! Just kidding! *cough cough*

Anyway, on the advice of my grandmother, I read The Client by John Grisham, which inspired me to write my first — and only — mystery novel, No Safe Harbor. By that time, I had just settled into my job at Siuslaw News and turned my attention to learning the ins and outs of journalism and becoming a columnist. I had no idea what I was doing and it took me a while to find my voice, which began being compared to Dave Barry and Art Buchwald. I’m embarrassed to say I had no idea who they were. When I eventually found out and read their work, I was flattered. But more importantly, it gave me a lot of confidence in the voice I was developing.

Marcia: Okay, finding out you didn’t read much as a kid is startling, I admit (though it would take more than that to cause an “audible hush” to fall over ME, you understand)! But finding out you didn’t know Dave Barry made me gasp out loud! Art Buchwald, I can almost understand, since he may have been a bit before your time. But Dave Barry? I think I still have the shrine I built in his honor a decade or two ago, when he was saving my life through his humor. Tsk. I’m glad you have now been enlightened, and yes, you were being complimented, for sure. And you have definitely earned the comparison, though you certainly speak with your own voice these days. Can you tell us about your reading habits today? (Asks she, crossing her fingers that they have broadened a bit). Do you have a favorite genre that you head to as soon as you enter a bookstore? Do you even ENTER bookstores? 🙂

Ned: Admittedly, I still don’t read as often as I’d like to or should. The last book I read was two years ago. But when I DO read, I gravitate toward mysteries, horror or sci-fi. Someone once said horror is the flip-side of comedy, and that the same essential elements apply to both in order for them to be successful. Unfortunately, the person who said this was murdered by a gang of clowns…

(And there you have it. Things you probably didn’t know about me. To recap: Weird kid, chef, divorced and afraid of clowns. Probably more than you wanted to know. However, for anyone who’d like to read the complete interview, possibly because you’re serving life without parole, here’s a link to the original on Bookin’ It)

Coming out to the ones you love about your alternative (writing) lifestyle

March 24, 2015 / Ned's Blog / 14 Comments

By Ned Hickson

It began with my parents of course, who held hands as I explained that I had always felt “different,” and that I wanted to embrace who I was, without shame, hopefully with their acceptance and approval. They both exchanged glances, my mother squeezing my father’s hand and offering him a worried smile before turning back to me. She knew what was coming and slowly blinked, nodding her head ever so slightly, encouraging me.

I cleared my throat. Took a deep breath.

“Mom… Dad… I think I might be a writer.”

It’s been many years since I came out of the closet. Or, in my case, the laundry room, which is where I did most of my writing until becoming a columnist in 1998. But before that — before I actually started getting paid to write — that conversation replayed itself many times over the years with family, friends and co-workers, most of whom thought of my writing as something akin to collecting salt and pepper shakers; a “unique” hobby that I was asked not to talk about at parties.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but for people who don’t know you — it makes them uncomfortable when your eyes light up like that.”

The bottom line is that no one took my writing seriously (And, yes, I realize the irony of that statement considering I am a humor columnist, but still…). In retrospect, there were many reasons why my wanting to be a writer was perceived as a bucket list item instead of a legitimate rung on my life ladder — beginning with my own perception of “wanting to be” a writer. Because we’re conditioned from an early age to view money as a prime indicator of success and achievement, we naturally use that same measuring stick as validation when it comes to pursuits that don’t fall into traditional categories.

In short: If you aren’t getting paid for it, then you’re not legitimate.

That’s like saying you can’t include “skydiving instructor” among the achievements in your obituary just because your parachute didn’t open the last time you jumped. Even if you’ve landed flat on your face in terms of monetary or publishing success with your writing, it doesn’t mean you aren’t a writer.

It just means there’s a good possibility that every publisher you’ve submitted your work to was a skydiving instructor who died before they could read your masterpiece. I honestly can’t tell you how many publishers plunged to their death before I saw my first words in print.

Regardless, if you spend time formulating words for the sheer enjoyment while, at the same time, agonizing over those very same words, congratulations:

You are a writer.

How do I know this? Because no one who isn’t a writer would put themselves through this process. Ask the average person on the street to write five paragraphs about their favorite memory while holding them at gun point, and most will help you squeeze the trigger. The ones who don’t?

They’re the writers.

Or masochists. Which I realize is somewhat redundant.

My point is the only legitimacy you need as a writer comes from yourself — and it starts with believing what you do is important and has value that isn’t measured in dollars or even common sense in the eyes of others. Let’s face it, toiling alone over the choice and arrangement of words on a page doesn’t make much sense to anyone who isn’t a writer. They may nod their heads and smile when you try to explain it, but in their minds they’re wondering if buying a home so close to high-voltage power lines was a mistake. Again, the only thing that matters is giving yourself permission to take your writing seriously.

And by “serious,” I don’t just mean getting published or paid for the words you write. It simply means serious enough that you make time for it, in the same way you do other routines that are important to your daily life.

If you take your writing seriously, so will others.

And if they don’t? It doesn’t make you any less a writer. Published or unpublished, novelist or columnist, fiction or non-fiction, accept yourself for being a writer and always make time for putting those words down on paper. It is both a gift and a responsibility — and a pursuit that is uniquely your own to determine and discover. Make it part of your lifestyle and treasure those who embrace it with you.

As for everyone else?

I hear that skydiving makes a great holiday gift…

_______________________________________________________________

Ned Hickson is a syndicated columnist with News Media Corporation. His first book, Humor at the Speed of Life, is available from Port Hole Publications, Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.

Sometimes, your Muse needs to be romanced

March 18, 2015March 19, 2015 / Ned's Blog / 6 Comments

By Ned Hickson

Today, we’re going to focus on tips for writing intimate love scenes. Or more specifically, how to effectively insert (see what I just did there?) descriptive phrases like:

“He grabbed her bare shoulders, caressing them with the kind of longing one only reserves for fresh-baked bread …”

And

“She de-pansed him in one quick motion, opening a floodgate of memories from freshman gym class…”

As you can see, this is a genre I am intimately familiar with because, as I’ve said before, you need to write what you know. And believe me, when it comes to intimacy no one knows it better than myself. That said, as a personal favor to 50 Shades author E.L. James, I will actually NOT be offering insights regarding the the ins-and-outs (See how I did that?) of writing descriptive lovemaking scenes. The reason is because her latest book, “14 Shades of Puce” is due out later this week, and she is concerned many of you would recognize some of the techniques I would be discussing today.

In short, that “fresh bread” example wasn’t something I pulled out (are you following these?) just willy-nilly (Did I mention subtlety is important?)

So instead, we will turn our attention to a different aspect of romance and writing. If you’re a serious writer who also happens to be in an equally serious relationship, I have news for you: We all know about your love triangle! That’s right! Don’t try to deny it. We know you’ve been spending a lot of time together. And yes, they get your heart racing too because, when things are going right, there’s nothing quite like it. Now, before I inadvertently send someone off to confess an affair they think may have happened because they woke up at a neighbor’s New Year’s Eve party clutching a pair of party favors in a suggestive manner, let me put your fears to rest. In this case we’re talking about your writing Muse; that voice of inspiration that whispers sweet somethings that just have to be written down.

In the case of those party favors… Just don’t ever let it happen again.

Some of you might be asking:

What If I’m not in a serious relationship?
Or What if I’m single by choice because I AM serious about my writing?
Or Did my mother call you again?

Whether you are seeing someone on a regular basis or have temporarily stopped seeing anyone due to irregularity, being a writer means you are already in a serious relationship with your Muse. And like any relationship you want to see flourish, you need to do your part in providing opportunities to help it grow. If one or more of the following statements could be made by your Muse, it’s time to make some changes;

1) You never take me anywhere — As I’m sure E.L. James would agree, an integral part of any relationship is exploring new things. With your Muse, however, I’m talking about actually leaving your home/apartment/bonds and getting out to experience new sights, sounds, scents — things that can inspire you and your Muse. Or at the very least provide experiences you can file in a mental cache and refer to later. In addition, consider taking some photos and jotting down your impressions in case, like mine, your “mental cache” is more like Snap-Chat.

2) I need to be romanced a little first — It’s easy to fall into a pattern of groping at your Muse, getting what you want and then — at least in the case of many men — falling asleep at the keyboard. Much like having a lover, there is a certain amount of foreplay involved when “seducing” your Muse. Even if yours is slutty like mine, the seduction process — i.e., your writing preparation routine — is important. My writing foreplay involves making a cup of java that is best described as a liquid Coffee Nip, then putting on my headphones to listen to AC/DC, checking and responding to any comments on my blog and Twitter account, then getting to work on whatever I’m writing. If I can’t finish a piece I’m working on, I always leave off in the middle of a sentence. That way, when I come back to it, I can start right out with some momentum by finishing the thought I had. Your Muse will appreciate you coming back to finish what you started.

3) I think your Mom hates me — If your Muse tells you this, it’s a good indication you might be spending too much time together. If nothing else, it’s time to take a break and re-evaluate your relationship. Possibly with the help of professional.

Whether you’re in a love triangle or monogamous relationship with your Muse, it needs to be nurtured and appreciated.

It’s the little things you do on a daily basis to express your appreciation that will keep your relationship strong, supportive and continually inspired.

Oh, and the same applies to your Muse, too.

_______________________________________________________________

Ned Hickson is a syndicated columnist with News Media Corporation. His first book, Humor at the Speed of Life, is available from Port Hole Publications, Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.

Excerpt from Good Luck With That Thing You’re Doing: One Woman’s Adventures in Dating, Plumbing and Other Full-Contact Sports

March 15, 2015March 16, 2015 / mizyank / 3 Comments

First, a huge “thanks” to Marcia for her fantastic idea and trademark generosity of spirit. It makes this a wonderful community, and what a great way to get to know new writers!

I’d like to send off Excerpt Week with not a bang or whimper, but a laugh, with this Easter-centric chapter from Good Luck With That Thing You’re Doing, a collection of humor essays published in November.

Hope you enjoy!

A Hare Out of Place

Last spring I moved to an Arlington neighborhood whose inhabitants do more than pay lip service to the idea of community. People here make a point of getting to know each other and do things like leave welcome gifts for new arrivals. (An unidentified neighbor left me an eggplant, for example. I thought it was a nice gesture, though some readers feared I had been targeted by a produce terrorist.) The neighborhood also has a robust civic association that puts on well-attended, family-friendly events like a Fourth of July parade, a Halloween parade, and an Easter egg hunt.

My next door neighbors, Toni and Scott, are among the people who play the most active roles in making these events happen. They contribute countless hours of their time to help plan and organize. I’m an engaged citizen too, so I contribute juice boxes, which everyone knows are the cornerstone of any close-knit community. Continue reading →

Excerpt from Pedal

March 14, 2015March 14, 2015 / louisklowy / 15 Comments

It was so much fun reading everyone’s pieces I felt compelled to post one of my own. This is from Pedal, which is due for release in May. It’s the story of Joanne Brick, a single 49 yr. old elementary school music teacher who is fired and struggles to reclaim her life back through bicycle racing.

At this point in the book Joanne has done everything, and more, that she possibly could to excel. She is competing against her two fiercest rivals, Sheila and Pam. She has never defeated either one of them. This is Joanne’s make or break race – her sense of worth is tied to this moment. (Tiger is her bike.)

~~~

Joanne was five feet behind them. She shifted gears, raised her butt off the seat, pumped her legs like twin locomotives and bolted forward.

Pam was a foot in front of Sheila, but Sheila was picking up ground.

Images swept past like notes from Bach’s “Prelude and Fugue in D minor.” They soared through, into and out of Joanne’s head. Her muscles were working so hard she wanted to cry, but was afraid of the energy her tears would burn. She had nearly reached her limit. Her body was begging her to end the raw, scalding pain eating her up, but she was nearly upon them.

She continued pedaling; pedaling past the vomit swabbing her throat, past the pudgy hand of Principal Haley thumbing her out the door, past her father, blue faced, hauled away in a screaming ambulance; past the lonely, loverless nights; past her mother and Ellie’s demands, she pedaled nearly even to Sheila, who was an inch behind Pam.

Praying her body wouldn’t shut down, Joanne pumped even harder. Her blood pounded like tympani claps through her carotid arteries. Her vision fell dark and narrow, as if she were gazing through a bassoon. The pain, the images, the emotions drifted slowly backward as she jetted forward. There was nothing but air. Not the hot, labored air from her lungs. A cool, lifting pureness: “A Horse With No Name.” She was above the ground, floating. No, she thought, not floating. Galloping. She wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing. She felt eternal—and with a flash—it was gone.

She was neck-and-neck with Pam. Sheila was slightly behind and gaining. The finish line was punching them in the nose. Pam inched forward. Shelia was now even with Joanne and moving ahead.

Joanne tried pistoning faster but her legs wouldn’t respond. Her shoulders felt like they could no longer sustain her arms, her arms could no longer support her hands. Her spine was a limp string of pearls. Her muscle cell mitochondria could no longer handle the intake of lactic acid—the furnace had blown. Pam and Sheila’s front wheels were a half-foot in front of Tiger’s. The finish line was laughing in her ear. Joanne spewed an agonizing grunt, rammed her arms and legs forward against the handlebars and pedals, and at the same time shoved her butt backwards until it was behind the saddle and nearly rubbing the bike’s rear wheel. The counter-energy from the backward thrust lunged Tiger forward and across the finish line.

Joanne swerved to the curb, threw up and collapsed. Floaters filled her eyes, wooziness sprinkled down like magenta colored salt. She passed out.