When One Door Closes, Another Opens

This is so not what I’d planned on posting about today, but something unexpected happened the other night. First, a little background:

Many of you know I’m an interior designer by trade. I’ve run my own business in the field of model home merchandising since 1997. But in 2007, the economy, and home-building in particular, took a major nose-dive. Since then, I haven’t been working much in my field. The first 2 years off, I cooked and baked a lot. Then in 2010, I started writing. Since then, I’ve spent every moment possible honing my craft and becoming as skilled a writer as possible.

Some I've learned from books and blogs, but mostly from reading and critiquing other manuscripts. I believe critiquing to be the single best way to improve one's craft.

I take it very seriously. I’m brutally honest, kind, fair, constructive, and very thorough. Unless asked otherwise, I’ll edit down to the very last period—for grammar, content, characterization, plot, setting, dialogue, you name it. If it doesn’t work for me, I’ll explain why and give examples on how to fix it.

Critiquing has brought me great friendship, too.  Lisa Regan, Carrie Butler, Jeff O'Handley, all good friends and skilled critique partners.  Working with them and my many other partners ensured my manuscript was clean, layered, and rich.  It also had a significant impact on my writing style. 

Well, out of the blue last month, my publisher asked me to critique a 75,000 word manuscript.  I found this request quite complimentary; they expressed considerable faith in my ability.  I completed the critique with nearly 1,100 comments.  Afterwards, I was told I had a “natural eye for editing.”  They suggested I consider freelance editing, and, after going back and forth a bit, my publisher offered me a contract.  Can you believe it?

  

I am now a freelance editor!

How cool is that?

I’ve often heard, when one door closes, another opens. Well, I believe it. A new opportunity has arisen, just when I needed it most. Can you imagine, getting paid to read? Okay, so it’s a lot more than that. A LOT MORE! But still, it’s reading. And to be honest, I can’t simply read for pleasure anymore anyway. No matter whose book or how well written, I cannot turn off that inner editor.

I'm grateful; my publisher is willing to work around my writing schedule so that I may finish my second novel, a sequel to The Mistaken. After all, that’s what’s most important to me. But making a little something on the side doing what I love most is a pretty cool gig.

Don’t you think?

"Forged by Greed" Cover Reveal!

Cover art by

Jeannie Ruesch at Will Design for Chocolate

Their choice had been taken away long before they were born.

__________

Two Seattle 16-year-old Shape Shifters, Jatred and Jasmira, are torn between following their hearts and protecting the order of the world.

The ancient Shape Shifter Races—the Winter wolves and the Summer leopards—exist on Earth, living among humans and perfectly fitting into modern life. Their secret societies are organized, each united by their own laws and traditions.

Two Goddesses, Crystal and Amber, command their respective Races. One is on a quest to tilt the scale of power to her side. The other will never let it happen, even if it means sacrificing Jatred and Jasmira’s love.

The Amulet commissioned to bring stability into the world remains hidden and concealed with the help of advanced technology. Jatred is the guardian of the Amulet and key to the Goddesses’ conflict.

The forces of nature are disrupted. Earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions rake the world. The Goddesses go to war and summon all their Shifters to join in the conflict. Jatred and Jasmira fight not only for their star-crossed love but to protect the future of both races and humankind.

__________

Excerpt

The wolf stood under the trees, several yards from the fence. His eyes were fixed on the stone statues. He growled and took a few slow steps back. Then he sprang forward and ran full speed toward the gate. His upper lip drew back, showing sharp, long canines. He jumped over the spikes of the fence, his belly inches away from the pointed iron finials. The wolf landed on the other side and left large paw prints on the freshly mowed grass. He lost his balance but regained it momentarily.

He heard her footsteps even before he heard her voice.

“Jatred!” From the house Jasmira ran toward him. Her long curly hair billowed behind her. “J, you made it. You made it.”

The wolf whimpered and trotted forward to meet her. Without slowing down, she threw herself onto him. Her hands grabbed his thick fur. His body was massive, and Jasmira looked like a child hugging an uncommonly large dog. The air around them pulsed and shivered. Jatred shifted into his human form and fell onto his back. Jasmira sprawled on top of him. Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him. His face broke into a broad smile.

__________

Forged by Greed will be released on September 20, 2012. The second book in the series (untitled) is scheduled for publication in summer 2013.

Angela Orlowski-Peart was born and raised in Poland. She describes herself as European born, American by choice. She was just seven-years-old when she decided to learn English to translate her favorite Polish fairytales. 

Angela is a Young Adult and Adult fiction writer. She completed her first YA paranormal romance novel, Forged by Greed, which is scheduled for publication on September 20, 2012. This is the first book in The Forged Series. Angela writes in multiple genres, including paranormal, fantasy, urban fiction, sci-fi, and short stories. She is a member of the Society of the Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Western Washington Chapter, and several authors’ and readers’ networking groups on Linkedin and Goodreads.

Angela loves reading good books almost as much as writing them. She can’t decide which is her favorite season—summer or fall. She speaks with Polish accent, but loves listening to the Southern drawl. 

She is passionate about watercolor painting, fashion—especially stilettos, rock climbing, environment, and organic food and gardening. She lives in the Seattle area with her husband, two children, and a very independent and chronically curious cat.

Angela can be found on her website, Facebook, Twitter, Google+, LinkedIn, and Goodreads

Visit Angela on her website and on her Goodreads author page to read more excerpts from Forged by Greed and to learn about upcoming giveaways and other events. Add Forged by Greed to your To-Be-Read list on Goodreads. Check back on September 20th for the buy links and the book blog tours information.

Y'all Come Back Tomorrow Now, Ya Hear!

I know this is my regular day to post, but I'm still away in Arizona, getting my son settled in at ASU.  

Please come back tomorrow for Angela Orlowski-Peart's

big cover reveal for her YA paranormal novel,

"Forged by Greed"

Until then...

Moving (check), Launch tour (check), Blogfest (check)...OYVEY!

This is not my normal Monday blog post, but there’s good reason for that.  This Friday, I will be flying my son down from Seattle to Arizona State University near Phoenix, and on Sunday, we’ll move him into his residence hall.  Yes, after 2 years of researching schools, college fairs and tours, applications, and essays, it’s all come down to this.  

May I say how stressed out I am, especially since I have to do it alone,

without my husband’s help?

 

Yeah. Super-über mondo-stressed.

Mind you, ASU is the largest public university in the entire US.  That’s nearly 70,000 students, most of whom attend the beautiful one-square-mile Tempe campus, where my son will be living.  So far, we’ve UPS’d one huge box down to his hall, at great cost, too.  The rest will be packed and fly with us. Thank God Southwest Airlines doesn’t charge for checked bags!  Needless to say, I’ve been a busy mama.  So while I don’t have the time to dwell over a thoughtful blog post, I do have time for a few announcements.  

First, my dear friend, Jennifer Hillier, has just released her second novel, Freak.  Though it stands alone on its own merits, it’s also a sequel to her debut novel, Creep, which came out last summer.  (I loved that book, by the way!)  I ordered a hard copy of Freak so Jenny can sign it when I see her at BoucherCon 2012 in October.  I was excited enough just to get my copy, but then I opened it up and saw that she had mentioned me in her acknowledgements.  Yes, more than a few tears sprang to my eyes.  Thank you, Jenny!

Second, after receiving another update from Goodreads, where I noticed one more add to another reader’s TBR list (thank you Lynda R. Young,) I saw that Lisa Regan had updated her review of my book, The Mistaken.  This update has a lot of depth and detail and is not simply a rehashed synopsis.  She shares what she loved most about my story and what she feels makes it special.  My humble thanks, Ms.Regan!  

Next, with my book’s release a short 2 months away, I’m frantically getting ready for my blog tour.  Besides the one arranged by Sapphire Star Publishing, (who, by the way, has a shiny new website) I have my own tour looming ahead.  That’s 15 guest posts and interviews I have to compose.  I’ve already written 10 of them, but I have 5 new additions that came up last week.  (Thanks to those of you who asked me to guest post.)  So yeah, I’m a bit swamped at the moment. 

I did, however, want to mention a couple of other events coming up, like Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Genre Favorites Blogfest on September 17, 2012.  One blogfest, four favorites!  Simply list your favorite genre of:  movie, music, books, and a guilty pleasure genre from any of the three categories!  Alex hosts the best parties, so if you want to participate and meet new people, click here for the latest info.  

Also, on Tuesday, August 21^st, my friend, neighbor, and fellow writer, Angela Orlowski-Peart, will reveal the cover for her new YA paranormal novel, Forged By Greed, set for release in September.  Angela will be my guest that day while we celebrate this important event.

And lastly, I’d like to thank Karen Elizabeth Brown for nominating me for the Liebster Award.  Though I’ve done this award before, it could use some updating, so I’ll try to post about it sometime in the near future. 

Whew!  Can I take a breath now?

Oh yeah, right…I have to go finish packing.

*sigh*

So what have you all been up to this summer?

How Do You Measure Your Own Success?

Last week, in response to my post for the Insecure Writer’s Support Group, many commenters spoke of how a writer’s focus often changes once he or she is agented, signs a book deal, and/or gets published.  It only makes sense that this would happen.  Just as our dreams and careers are not static, neither should our blogs remain fixed. 

The purpose to my blog was to chronicle my journey toward publication.  In the beginning, though I had a book, I had no idea if it was saleable or if I could even consider myself an actual writer.  I met others along the way who were exactly where I was on the journey and many others who were farther along—agented and hoping beyond all hope for a publishing contract.  And still others who had their contract or were even already published. 

I enjoy reading each writer’s contribution, studying their progress, and partaking of their generous advice and experience.  I’ve never felt any jealousy but rather a sense of encouragement that it is all, in fact, possible somehow, if I just work hard enough.  But even having said that, there has to be some measurement of success along the way, some way that we, in our own right, encourage ourselves to continue, to not give up. 

For each of us, I imagine, it’s quite different.  I know when I started blogging, I was excited if one person read and commented on my posts.  Then it became all about the number of followers I had and how many I was adding each month.  After my numbers increased, I measured my success by the number of comments I had for each post.  I still do both of these to some extent, but I’ve become less obsessed with the overall numbers.

In the past few months, it’s been more about my book and who’s added it to their Goodreads TBR pile, but that seems rather shortsighted of me.  Now, all I can think about—the one true way in which I can gauge my own success—is by my writing.  That means I have to write another book. 

Over the last two-plus years, I’ve often wondered if this whole experience is not just some kind of fluke.  I’ve asked myself if I could ever duplicate it, if I could ever do it again.  So that’s how I’ll be calculating my success now.  Can I do it again?  Can I plot and write another novel worth publishing? 

I have my doubts.  Serious ones, too.  I’m working on another story, a sequel to The Mistaken.  In fact, I was flying along in the outline phase until my edits came in from my publisher for the first book.  Then I came to a screeching halt.  Afterwards, one of my dogs died and the other got very sick.  I know once my son goes off to college out-of-state in a little less than two weeks, I’ll have all the time in the world to focus on my new WIP and move it along again.  Still, there’s that part of me that thinks I’ll never be able to do it again.  But I’ve always been of the mind that if I did it once, I can do it again.  God, I sure hope so.

So what about you—how do you measure your own success?    

            

IWSG - Fear of Losing Friendships

It’s the first Wednesday of the month.

Time for Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Insecure Writer’s Support Group!

All things considered, I’ve been fortunate on my journey toward publication.  I know this, and I’m grateful.  Very grateful.  But just because I managed to snag a contract doesn’t mean everything is always roses and sunshine.  There’s still a lot to worry about. 

Will my launch go smoothly?  Will anyone participate or even care about my blog tour?  And the big one, of course, will anyone buy my book?  Oh yeah, an even bigger one…if they do buy it, will they like it?  My long fingernails are pretty much a thing of the past now, chewed down to the nub, bleeding and ragged.  But you know, I’ve done all I can.  I can only hope and pray for the best.

But still, there is one thing that concerns me.  When I finished the first draft of my manuscript, I built myself a platform and started this blog.  Most of you have been there and done that. You know how hard it is to start up, build a following, cull new friendships and relationships.  I certainly didn’t go into it expecting all that, yet that’s exactly what I got.  And I can’t tell you how thrilled I am by that.  All the new friendships have enriched my life in ways I can’t even begin to explain.  But I can say, it’s all good.  And I don’t want to lose it, any of it.  That’s one of my greatest fears now, my big insecurity.

You see, I’ve noticed a trend in the blogosphere.  Certainly not always, but often enough to be worrisome, once a blogging writer gets their contract and publishes, their readership begins to fall away, their comments diminish.  I imagine it’s because the author has less time to traipse about all the blogs and comment.  I hope that’s the reason, but I don’t intend to find out. 

I will always dedicate a day a two every week to ramble, read, and remark.  What good is my platform if no one is standing around to listen?  All that work, the time spent writing and roaming, down the drain, and just when I need it the most, too.  It’s counterintuitive. 

But as much sense as that makes—to keep up my end of the blogging bargain—I’ve heard from several author friends about how they’ve lost not just followers, but real, true friends—or who they thought were friends anyway—to envy and jealousy.  I can’t imagine any of my friends or followers succumbing to that.  My path has hardly been traditional, and we’re not competing against each other anyway. 

But still, it happens.  I’ve seen it.  And it scares me. 

Just as I’ve learned so much from those who’ve come before me, perhaps I can teach a small thing or two to those who come after.  It’s part of paying it forward.  I just hope there’s still a few around to pay it forward to.   

   

Honorable Mentions

I’ll be posting this Wednesday for Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Insecure Writers Support Group, so for today—which is my normal blog day—I just want to tip my hat to a few fellow bloggers who honored me with an award or included me in a meme. 

First, CPs and writing buds, Tara Rendall at More Than Fiction and Lisa Regan have both bestowed me with the Fabulous Blog Ribbon.  For this one, I'm supposed to name 5 of my most fabulous moments, 5 things I love and 5 things I hate and then pass this along to 5 fabulous bloggers.

5 Fabulous Moments:

• The day my daughter, Julia, was born – September 23, 1984
• The day I was reunited with the love of my life, now my husband, after a devastating breakup – May 11, 1985.  We’ve been together ever since
• The day I married Eric – March 24, 1990
• The day my son, Brandon, was born – October 18, 1994
• The day I was offered a publishing contract – March 11, 2012

5 Things I Love:                                

My family, friends, and pets                 

Writing                                    

Music                                                  

Good food                                          

My car                                                

5 Things I Hate:

Judgmental people

Dishonest people

Mean people

Misinformation (media)

Chores: shopping, doing my nails & coloring my hair

5 Fabulous Bloggers (who haven’t yet received this award):

JeffO, the Doubting Writer

Heather M. Gardner at The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Jennifer Hillier at The Serial Killer Files

Kelley Lynn at Get Between the Bookends & Falling for Fiction

Michael Abayomi

My pub sister and critique partner, Carrie Butler at So You’re a Writer, has tagged me for the Be Inspired Bloghop Meme.  I have to answer the following questions then tag five people.

1. What is the name of your book?

The Mistaken

2. Where did the idea for your book come from?

From a song:  Hurricane by 30 Seconds To Mars

3. In what genre would you classify your book?

Adult thriller/suspense

4. If you had to pick actors to play your characters in a movie rendition, who would you choose?

I covered this topic in the Casting Call Character Bloghop on October 25, 2011.

5. Give us a one-sentence synopsis of your book.

Devastated by the death of his pregnant wife, Tyler Karras impulsively exacts revenge against the stranger responsible, but when he mistakenly targets the wrong woman, he must risk his own life and that of his brother to set things right and protect her from the enemy he’s unleashed.

6. Is your book already published?

The Mistaken is due for release on:

10.18.2012

7. How long did it take you to write your book?

It took me three months to write and well over a year to polish.

8. What other books within your genre would you compare it to? Or, readers of which books would enjoy yours?

Since The Mistaken is a psychological thriller, I think readers who dig Greg Iles or John Hart would enjoy my book.

9. Which authors inspired you to write this book?

No author inspired me to write The Mistaken; just the song. 

10. Tell us anything that might pique our interest in your book.

It’s a multi-layered story about good guys tangled up with organized crime, revenge and forgiveness, loss and regret, love and hope.

Consider the five bloggers I listed above also tagged!

And lastly, the wonderful Hope Roberson at Writing With Hope has given me the 7x7 Link Award.  Though I covered this award in a post last September 5^th, I think I can probably update it:

My most beautiful post:  How Do You Let Go?

My most helpful post:  2012 A to Z Challenge (What I’ve learned about writing)

My most popular post:  Casting Call Character Bloghop

My most controversial post:  Jealousy Among Writers

My most surprisingly successful post:  When a Character Does the Unforgivable

My most underrated post:  Finding My Book’s Theme:  Forgiveness

My most pride-worthy post:  How I Was Saved

A lot of bloggers have already done this one and don’t wish to repeat it, so I’m not going to tag anyone specific, but I invite everyone and anyone who hasn’t participated yet to compile their own list.  Consider yourself tagged!

See you again on Wednesday for the IWSG!

Writing Book Reviews

Back on June 4^th, I wrote a very brief post about Goodreads, the book-lover’s social networking website.  In May, I was granted an author’s page, as well as a page for my book, The Mistaken.  Since then, I’ve had quite a few folks add it to their TBR list.  A few others, who received the ARC, gave my book a ranking and review.  Yay, so far, I’m 5 for 5 stars with all great reviews!  Whew! 

My point here is that Goodreads is an invaluable resource for both readers and writers.  I generally only read books that have been referred to me, and Goodreads helps me with that.  So now, I’ve started to write extensive reviews on books that I’ve read recently.   I wrote a pretty good one for Alex J. Cavanaugh’s first novel, CassaStar. 

And I just wrote another for Lisa Regan’s debut novel, Finding Claire Fletcher, to be released on December 6, 2012.

I think reviews should be more than just synopses.  They should offer the reviewers gut feelings on the book.  So if you’re interested, here’s my review of one of the best books I’ve ever read, one to which I gave 5 out of 5 stars.  Yes, the review’s a bit lengthy, but it deserves it.  And wouldn’t you want a thorough review for your own novel?  Either way, I hope you add Finding Claire Feltcher to your To-Be-Read list on Goodreads.   

“Finding Claire Fletcher is truly a story of our times, and magnificently told, even in its brutality. It follows ten years in the life of a girl kidnapped off the streets on her way to school at the age of fifteen. We’ve all seen or read those news stories of kids who vanish without a trace. We wonder what happened to them, if they still live, and if so, how? We know the type of monsters who prey on these children, and we can only imagine what they do once they’ve captured their victims. This is that story. It isn’t pretty, and it makes no excuses for that.

Claire Fletcher, though young and naive, fights against her captor, trying her best to outrun the villain who subjects her to daily atrocities. He uses her fear against her to keep Claire hostage as he chips away at the girl she used to be, slowly and effectively destroying any hope of reuniting with her family and a mother who never gives up hope that Claire is still alive.

Even as she ages and becomes physically stronger, Claire cannot escape the torture and degradation. Her captor holds Claire in an emotional cage every bit as much as a physical one. To control her, he not only uses the threat of violence against those she loves most, he uses violence itself, hurting Claire’s family or killing those she asks for help. Knowing she cannot expose her loved ones or even strangers to the kind of cruel fate her kidnapper threatens, she resignedly settles into life as Lynn, the name her captor has given her.

Still a hostage, but allowed to leave her captor’s compound, Claire meets Police Detective Connor Parks at a bar. When she disappears following a chaste night together, leaving behind only an old family address, Connor discovers the beautiful woman he’s come to know as Claire Fletcher has been missing for ten years and is presumed dead. But he knows she’s not, and he’s determined to find her, even as his commander orders him off the case and Claire’s captor targets Connor as punishment for defying him.

Told from alternating points of view, we see the story emerge from both Claire’s perspective, as well as Connor’s. Author Lisa Regan delves into the mind of a sexual deviant, exposing and exploring what drives a man to such desperate acts. But while she alludes to the horrific misery Claire’s captor subjects her to, Regan never stoops to showing the acts themselves, only examining the effect such debased treatment has on his victim.

Those who wonder why women like Elizabeth Smart or Jaycee Dugard never attempted to leave their real-life captors will find the reasons eloquently explored in this well-written, hauntingly brutal, yet sweetly realized story, a story of love and determination to overcome the most heinous of fates.

Though it is superbly written and moves with intense, page-turning speed, Finding Claire Fletcher is not always an easy read in that it probes into the most corrupt behavior imaginable. It’s difficult to feel what the young Claire experiences as she is made to suffer at the hands of a pedophile. But as tough as those parts are to read, the story is balanced by the hope and memories Claire holds as a way of surviving her ordeal. And as much as it is Claire’s story, it is also Detective Park’s story, as well, analyzing the failure of his marriage and his precarious position within the police department following a questionable shooting and his involvement with Claire’s seemingly unsolvable cold case.

But in the end, Finding Claire Fletcher is a love story about a child and her mother, and the man, Connor Parks, who cannot forget or abandon her, and risks not only his career, but his own life to save Claire. This story will frighten you, make you angry, cry, and cringe, but it will also energize your faith in the human spirit and its ability to heal and move forward. Regan deserves every one of these five stars for her original and haunting debut novel.” 

Do you use Goodreads and write reviews for books you’ve read?  If you’re a writer, what style of review do you hope your readers will write for your book?

Hookers & Hangers Blogfest - Part 2: Cliffhangers

Today we continue with the Hookers and Hangers Bloghop, hosted by the ladies over at Falling For Fiction.  Here are the details:

We all know how important the first and last lines are in every chapter. This blogfest will hopefully get your HOOKERS and HANGERS polished making it impossible for readers to put down your book and leaving them begging for more!

On July 16th, post the first sentence from each chapter. CHECK

On July 18th, post the last sentence from each chapter.

Post as many as you like!

We will be judging everyone’s first three HOOKERS and first three HANGERS. We’ll each pick two winners (MOST ENTICING HOOKER and MOST IMPOSSIBLE HANGER) making a total of ten winners! Winners will receive a 10 page (double spaced) critique and a Friday Spotlight on FFF!

Keeping it brief, here are seven cliffhangers from my novel, The Mistaken:

• A shrill scream escaped from the very deepest part of me, a wail of utter desperation, of annihilating failure. I was no longer a man simply broken.  I was destroyed. 

• My breath was expelled violently from my body in a loud whoosh, and I felt myself snap from within.  Then everything went quiet, and all I could see was black. 

• With his chin tilted upward, he closed his eyes and whispered, “What have I done?”

• Despondent, and destroyed all over again, I walked out of the hospital the same way I came in, into the custody of the FBI, who—without even allowing me to bury my brother—swept me away to a new life.

• It seemed like an eternity had swallowed me up whole, but at some point, I was finally pulled from her side, and I thought that eternity was not nearly long enough.

• Then I saw Jillian on the narrow table, her blood soaked through the sheet pulled over her battered body, and the tube still stuck in her throat, and, in my alcohol-fueled rage, I steeled my resolve, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell.

• I touched the hand he placed against my cheek and held it as he backed away, his arm outstretched, until he finally stepped beyond my reach.

If you’re at all intrigued by my cliffhangers, please add The Mistaken to your TBR list on Goodreads.  And look for it on Amazon and Barnes & Noble beginning October 18^th. 

And oh yeah, go to author Jennifer Hillier's blog—The Serial Killer Files

and check out her right side bar to see what she's currently reading.

How cool is THAT?!

Hookers & Hangers Blogfest

I need a serious distraction today as I wait for my dog, Jack, to get out of surgery, and it just so happens the amazing ladies over at Falling For Fiction are hosting the Hookers and Hangers Bloghop.  Here are the details:

We all know how important the first and last lines are in every chapter. This blogfest will hopefully get your HOOKERS and HANGERS polished making it impossible for readers to put down your book and leaving them begging for more!

On July 16th, post the first sentence from each chapter.

On July 18th, post the last sentence from each chapter.

Post as many as you like!

We will be judging everyone’s first three HOOKERS and first three HANGERS. We’ll each pick two winners (MOST ENTICING HOOKER and MOST IMPOSSIBLE HANGER) making a total of ten winners! Winners will receive a 10 page (double spaced) critique and a Friday Spotlight on FFF!

I only have one book, THE MISTAKEN, to be released 10/18/2012, but I thought it’d be fun to share a few first lines.  I have 50 chapters, but I’ll keep this short.  Here are eight chapter hooks:

• I don’t know how I missed it, that moment I changed, when I somehow became a different man. 

• God, I didn’t want to do this; just thinking about it had my gut tied in knots, but I was out of options.

• Five times I watched the dense summer fog march in and retreat outside the hospital window, five long days of prayers and pacing before Nick was moved out of the ICU.

• I paced the floor around me, unable—perhaps unwilling—to process the reality of what I had just done—what I almost did—the severity of the mistake I had made, and the dire consequences that now faced me, my brother, and the wounded woman cowering in fear and humiliation in the corner.

• In one moment of madness, my life had turned upside down.

• Nick and I were tossed about the van as it threaded erratically through city traffic.

• About eight hours later, the pain had eased enough that I could move around, though my head still felt as if it were split down the middle.

• The crowd quieted down as they watched me cradle the body of my dead brother in my arms.

I hope this interests you enough to add The Mistaken to your TBR list on Goodreads.  

When It Rains, It Pours

I have the best followers.  You’ve all been so kind and supportive following the death of my beloved dog, Maleah.  Her death followed three weeks of declining health where I was constantly on alert, worrying, and tending to her physical needs.  When she passed, I took a deep breath and relaxed—finally.  I didn’t have to worry any more.  It was over.

Only it wasn’t.  Not by a long shot.  One week after she died, her mate, my big male Malamute, Jack, developed a serious condition, which has since become life-threatening.  A tumor appeared, literally overnight, at the top of his left front leg.  It’s like his body is sprouting another leg or something.  It took a whole day to get in to see his vet.  I agreed when they suggested it be surgically removed, but they couldn’t schedule him in until six days later. 

The next day, I called them back and asked them to bump up his surgery because the tumor was growing, exponentially.  So they moved it up to Tuesday, then Monday.  I’ve been a basket case of nerves since last week.  His tumor is now a bursting bloody mess.  I have to wipe it down, disinfect, and spray Bactine on it every 30 minutes or so.  Bandaging it rips the skin from the surface, so right now, it’s an exposed blob.  He’s wearing a cone so he can’t lick it, but he’s in pain, and I just can’t take it anymore, all the crying, the worrying, wondering if he’s gonna make it. 

I simply don’t have it in me to write much more than this pathetic post.  I’m at my wits end.  I hope to get back to writing and commenting soon, but that’s not gonna happen this week.  His recovery will require my attention.  But at least, I hope he’ll be on the road to recovery.  I’ll try to update this post with a progress report or two following his operation.

For now though, I just want to say how much I appreciated your kind words, virtual hugs, and prayers last week.  I hate to say I need them one more time, but I do.  I really, really do.  I just can't live without this big, silly creature, and I can't stand for him to live one more day in pain.  Thank you.

CONDITION UPDATE:

After a tortuous wait with lots of whining (Jack, not me,) Jack finally had his surgery.  The surgical assistant came and took him away, and all the while, Jack screamed like he was being drawn and quartered.  I think this is a result of a bad experience he had after breaking his other leg (which later abscessed) a year or so before we adopted him.  He has a significant fear of hospitals.  But he sailed through his procedure with no adverse affects from the anesthesia.  

He had a sizable chunk of the tissue on his upper front left leg taken off, just in case the tumor was cancerous, which in all likelihood it was.  Now it's a wait-and-see scenario.  He's still whining non-stop as I try to manage his pain, but he's a helluva lot better than he was a few days ago.  Thank you all for your additional prayers and kind thoughts.  It's helped make this horrible experience that much more bearable.  God bless!   

           

How Do You Let Go?

I hope you’ll indulge me this one time for not writing about writing.  It’s been a rather tough week for me.  That’s one of the reasons I’m posting a bit late.  You see, I’m a dog lover, and up until last Tuesday, I had two:  Jack, an Alaskan Malamute, and Maleah, a Siberian Husky.  Over thirteen years ago—a year after the death of my first dog, a Husky/Malamute mix named Gunnar—I adopted Maleah.  She came to me through BASH, Bay Area Siberian Husky, a rescue league specializing in the notoriously difficult breed. 

From day one, Maleah proved just how arduous the breed can be.  She cost me thousands of dollars in damage to my home.  But even worse, she was a runner, an escape artist of profound ability.  We even called her The Great Malini and hypothesized she had hidden opposable thumbs because she could escape from any kind of enclosure or binding.  Most of the time, she was with me, right by my side.  I was a stay-at-home mom with a home-based business, so I was around a lot, but when no one was home, my husband and I had to make sure she couldn’t get loose.  Not an easy task, let me tell ya. 

Maleah was one of those special souls who touched everyone she came in contact with.  She helped one of my son’s friends and her father get over their significant fear of dogs.  That’s how sweet she was.  Though the breed is notably cat-predatory, she had her own kitty, Kiley, another rescue.  When Kiley died of old age back in 2005, Maleah was a little mopy, so, after a lot of research, we got her Jack, and the two became fast friends, completely inseparable.  And up until a few weeks ago, they played hard together everyday, with Maleah as the proven alpha and Jack her ever obedient love-slave. 

But all that changed, and very quickly.  Maleah’s health, which had been changing due to her age, suddenly deteriorated.  Though she was always a picky eater, she stopped eating her food and had to be hand fed.  I cooked for her everyday, whatever I thought she might eat:  ground beef, carrots, hot dogs, cheese, steak—whatever.  But after awhile, even that proved difficult, and she stopped eating altogether.  It’s hard for a mom to watch her “kid” not eat and simply waste away.  I knew if I took her in to see the vet yet again, he would just tell me her time was near.  And I knew that.  I realized I would have to say goodbye very soon. 

Then Maleah stopped sleeping.  She constantly paced around the house, never lying down, never resting.  By last Monday, she could barely walk.  And on Tuesday, her rear legs became partially paralyzed.  This was it.  I knew the time had come.  As much as I loved and needed her, I couldn’t allow her to suffer one more day of pain.  That realization undid me. 

My son and I spent the entire day on the floor next to Maleah as she rested on her bed.  This was not easy for my son, especially physically.  He woke up that morning with his usual backache, but it was markedly worse, and he could barely tolerate sitting, standing, or even lying down.  But he did.  He never left her side that day.  Mid-afternoon, the vet came to our home and told us what we had been dreading, that she would never get better.  He advised us to put her down. 

So I laid down with my face right up next to Maleah’s, so she could look me in the eye, so I would be the last thing she ever saw, so she would know I was there and that I loved her.  The doc gave her a ketamine-valium sedative before stopping her heart.  I held her close and cried and apologized then watched the light fade from her beautiful soulful eyes.  It was one of the most difficult moments of my entire life.

Later that evening, when my son came to say goodnight, I started to cry yet again.  Though I am a very spiritual person, I asked him if he really thought Maleah was in a better place.  I wondered if she had a soul that God would allow to carry on in some place where she could play and run. 

My son, who is not especially spiritual, told me a remarkable story. 

He said that he had prayed the night before for God to take Maleah’s pain and give it all to him.  And as I said, he woke up in considerable pain that morning and could barely sit, stand, or lie down, which was not at all typical.  He said he thought God had indeed intervened and given him Maleah’s pain to bear on that last day.  He thought if there was a God, and He did something like that, then surely Maleah had a soul, and at that moment, she was off chasing squirrels in heaven.  His words helped me more than I can say, because suddenly, my son had a faith he’d never had before.

It’s been six days, and while I still have my big silly Jack, I miss Maleah terribly.  She was my constant companion.  If I moved to another room, so would she.  We were inseparable.  So it’s difficult for me.  Yes, she was “only” a dog, but she was part of my family and I ache for her.

Rest in peace, my beautiful girl!

Would Someone Give Me a Tranquilizer, Please?

I’ve been a part of Alex J. Cavanaugh’s IWSG since its inception. Sometimes I’ve written upbeat posts while others have shown my need for support. But even at my neediest, I was never as insecure as I am right now. The reason? My ARCs have been released, the advanced reader copies my publisher provides for critics and reviewers.

Now, all things considered—my advanced age most especially—I’m usually a pretty confident person, though with writing a little less so. I do love my story and feel pretty good about it, but ARCs released for consumption by those who might very well crucify me? Yikes! I am nearly paralyzed with apprehension.

ARCs aren’t like what we writers experience with critique partners or beta readers. Those relationships are typically well-cultivated and bear a certain amount of built-in respect and admiration. Yeah, sure, I’ve given my ARCs to a couple of friends who are published authors. I respect both their work and their following. Why wouldn’t I tap that? Frankly I’d be crazy not to. But I think I might even fear their reaction more than those strangers who are reading, because I treasure their respect as much, if not more than, their experience and influence. What if they hate it? Or maybe just don’t understand it? Or—gasp—are bored to tears? Holy crap!

And then there are those strangers who may (or may not) be poring over my darlings. I can’t even be sure they will review my work. I mean, who am I? A nobody. A debut author. An unknown. Why would they agree to review my book? So while they have a copy of my ARC, it might just end up unopened in their circular file.

Still, there will be those strangers who do indeed read it. They don’t know me. They don’t know of my struggle, of my personal experiences that led and contributed to this book. It’s just a fantasy for them. One they can criticize and condemn for being poorly written or imagined, for being underdeveloped, flat or worse—purple! I’ve worked hard on my craft over the last two years, but I’m still relatively inexperienced, and this is my first ever book.

So who am I kidding? Why did I ever think I could do this? Why am I putting myself out there to be criticized and beaten down and snickered at? Why?

Because in the end, I love my story. I believe in my characters. I’ve slaved and cried and rejoiced at every momentous mile marker, every roadblock, every failure and accomplishment. This is the next phase. Yeah, I’m scared to death, but I know and understand that this is a subjective business and not everyone will like my book. True, it might sting, and I might cry, but I also accept that as part of the journey. I am one step closer to publication, however insecure I might be.

Why Do We Do This?

Why do we do this?  Why blog?  Most of the folks I interact with online are writers, like me.  Many of us have written novels or memoirs we want to see through to publication, and part of that journey requires we “build a platform.”  That means we must establish a public identity, a soapbox, if you will, to display our talent or voice or whatever it is we want and need to exhibit.  It’s more or less so we become recognizable, build a following, have fans who might consider buying our books.  It’s part of the job.  But there’s no rule that says we have to.  It’s a choice to put ourselves out there for everyone to see and possibly criticize.

I wasn’t thrilled when I realized I needed to establish a blog.  It’s just one more thing on my vast list of things to do, and it’s a very time-consuming one, at that.  Not so much the actual writing itself, but rather the giving back, the trolling of all the other blogs, the reading, the following, the commenting.  It’s practically a full-time job in itself.  Just ask Alex Cavanaugh.  It’s playfully believed he has an army of clones who comment on all the blogs he follows.  So if it’s so hard, why do it?  Certainly our time would be better spent writing our stories, sending out queries, or agonizing over revisions.

What I’ve found is that, in this most solitary of professions or vocations, there are others just like me, who want to connect, who need to feel a part of something, a community, a brotherhood, a family.  We don’t compete against each other.  We’re there for moral support or a virtual hug, a pat on the back or smack upside the head.  We are a team.  I, for one, know for a fact that I could never have gotten as far as I currently have without all my writer and blogger friends.  It is the single most supportive community I’ve ever personally been a part of.  And I’m proud of that, of all the folks who populate that community.  Or almost all the folks anyway, until I read a few of the comments on one of Cassie Mae’s blog posts last week.

It was a sweet post, as Cassie’s often are, about being tagged and recognized for receiving several blog awards, ones she most decidedly deserves.  Yet, while nearly every one of her friends offered congratulations for being such an inspiration to others, a few commenters felt the need, or thought it was the appropriate place, to criticize Cassie for not being serious enough, for not putting herself high enough up on a platform, as the commenter erroneously believes all authors should.  To be above it all.  To be adult and write material so she can be taken earnestly as a writer.

My thought when I read one of those comments:  

  

Seriously, it’s like someone being invited into your bedroom, asked to sit down on your bed for a chat then proceed to rifle through your drawers, open your diary, read it, and criticize you for what you’ve written.  I mean, basically, that’s kind of what our blogs are, a journal of what’s important to us, what matters, what makes us happy or irritates the hell out of us.  Just because we open the door and ask someone if they’d like to come on in for awhile doesn’t mean they should be rude or offer unrelated, unwanted, uninvited opinions on a completely irrelevant topic.  And then to do so without even introducing themselves, without offering a link so their authority could be recognized, so the merits of their expertise could be verified, well, that’s just plain cowardly.  And if I may say so, not very writerly at all.

What was writerly though was the reaction some of her friends had.  They took a virtual step in between Cassie and her assailants and endorsed what we all believe, that our blogs are our own.  They are who we are, what we are, and how we are.  They are an extension of our lives, our beliefs, our interests, our talents, of our very personalities.  They are us.  And we are them.  Who’s to say we’re doing it all wrong?  By what authority?  Sure, I would never post anything inappropriate or embarrassing to my publisher or friends or family or anybody, really.  But what I say, what I write, if it’s about me, it belongs there exactly as I want it, as I’ve written it. 

It’s my blog and I’ll say what I wanna say, do what I wanna do, be who I wanna be.

What about you?  What do you think?  Why do you blog?