Archive for January, 2010

I realized the other day why it’s taking me so long to get into writing my new book. I’m tapped out. No, not of story lines. I’ve got those up the wazzoo. Is that how you spell wazzoo? Well, I’m spelling it that way. What was my point? Oh, right, tapped out. I’ve spent so much time pouring every spare moment into my writing that I’d almost given up, no, I had given up all the other creative outlets I enjoyed. I hadn’t knit anything in almost two years. I’d always enjoyed taking photographs, but rarely picked up a camera to take photos of my kids, even. Reading? I’d forgotten what that was.

So after I finished the last book and got it off to market, my brain just

stopped working. It went blank when I sat down at the computer. I tried to cover with my friends. “Oh, yeah, I’m plotting.” Mmm-hmmm. I meant plotting to outwit my 3 year old, not the book. So, for some crazy reason, right before Christmas when we took the kids up to the mountains for a few days I grabbed my knitting needles and an odd skein of yarn to work on in the car on the drive. I also brought my computer. I didn’t even crack that puppy open for the entire trip. Instead I knit my nephew a hat. I’ve knitted five more since then. Not all for my nephew, which he is extremely thankful for, I’m sure. That act of creating was like taking a deep breath after holding

my breath for months.

I told my husband I wanted a camera for Christmas months ago. I had no idea how much I was going to love it. It’s another creative outlet. I have taken some of the best pictures of my kids with my new Rebel–fabulous close-ups, action shots. I’ll never take them to a professional again. And nature photos? That was the reason I got the camera, after all. I’ve taken some absolutely stunning photos of the sunset and sunrise through our trees. (I have a thing for trees. There, I said it.)

I’ve been working on the newsletter for a local charity with a program on my new computer, and I’m using the same program to help my son with a major school project. Writing, finding and inserting photos, learning a new program, it’s great! Next up is my website. I’m going to completely redo it.

So the moral is, I’m rejuvenated. I feel creative again. I am artist, hear me roar. Well, you know. But the truth is that I need these other things to keep the creative side of my brain (is that right or left? I can never get that straight) working. Writing isn’t enough. Writing taps the well, and

helps to refill it. But there has to be other sources or it’s just not enough.

I’ve created a playlist for this new book because I love music. It speaks to me, another creative outlet in a way, I suppose, although I can’t sing or write music. But enjoying it, listening to it, interpreting it, is a creative endeavor, I think. I haven’t tried a playlist before. So far, it’s really helping me stay in the story. It’s a mix of all kinds of music from jazz to country, and it’s inspiring a lot of creativity with this book. ;-) I’m also typing the book on Scrivener, another new program for me. So I’ve got the creative and the learning sides of my brain working together.

What do you do to keep the creative well full? Or the battery charged? (See, I did know. But I thought it would be funny.)

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28
Jan

What everyone is in an uproar about

   Posted by: Eilis Flynn    in uncategorized

Steve Jobs has long been one of my heroes — I never thought I’d admit that in public, but there it is. The hero of my first book was based on him (now an online graphic novella, many decades after it was first written), and everytime Apple came up with something new, I’d have to find out more about it. And yesterday’s big reveal of the iPad (oy, such a name!) was no exception. Is it the greatest thing that’s ever been invented? Probably not — the wheel’s position on the list is still safe — but it’s a jump forward in the hopscotch of technology.

Notable among the complaints is what it can’t do. It’s not set up for multitasking. It’s slow. It’s not a laptop. It’s an overgrown iPod touch (incidentally, am I the only one stumbling over that “touch” not being capitalized?). But it’s also been pointed out that it’s not supposed to be those things — it’s a jump forward, it’s not man-on-the-moon leap forward. And it’s the reveal, the beginning. I have no doubt that it’s going to be fine-tuned in coming months and years.

I’m so embarrassed. I sound like an evangelist for Apple, and I don’t even have that much stock.

Anyway, it’s still an infant. Give it time. Five years from now, like an iPod or an iPhone, it’s going to be different, and it may even be in your hand. (Truth in commentary: I have neither an iPod nor an iPhone. We have a touch, but we got it as a premium for buying a car. We are VERY slow in adapting. So by the time the iPad overcomes its original problems, we may consider one.)

I’m not sure I should mention we still have an Apple Newton. Remember those? It’s around here somewhere. But it has its own place in that hopscotch board.

Eilis Flynn
INTRODUCING SONIKA, ECHOES OF PASSION
Now available on Kindle

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27
Jan

Winning Query Letters

   Posted by: Kathy Kulig    in Kathy Kulig, uncategorized

 

Janet Reid from Fine Print Literary Agency gave an excellent lecture on writing effective query letters at a recent Greater Lehigh Valley Writer’s Group meeting. Here are some of the things she talked about and tips taken from her hand out. Check out Janet Reid’s Blog too.

A query letter is a business letter, even if you’re sending it via email, it should still be professional. Get rid of auto-signatures with pictures and fancy fonts. DO NOT copy and paste from a Word.doc file into the email or that email the agent gets will be full of those weird characters, you’ll lose all the formatting and get a big block of text that’s hard to read. Type the letter manually into the email or save it into a draft in your email and then copy and paste.A query letter MUST tell an agent what the book is about:

Who is the main character(s)?
What happens to her?
What choice does s/he face?
What terrible thing will happen because of that choice?

Here’s a sample formula for writing a blurb: The main character must decide whether to ________. If s/he decides to do (this), the consequences/outcome/peril s/he faces are______. If s/he decides NOT to do this: the consequences/outcome/peril s/he faces are________.

A query blurb describes the book’s premise, it’s not a synopsis. Don’t tell the ending. Stick to hero/heroine and possibly the protagonist in your blurb and that’s all. Avoid character soup in your blurb.

A query letter should include the word count, title, genre and publishing credits you have. You don’t have to say the novel is complete. It should be before you query. Publishing credits are published works, not self-published, not winning a contest, not awards, not classes or teachers you’ve studied under, not an MFA, not conferences attended.

Instant rejection phrases:
Fiction novel, sure best seller, Oprah, film potential, “dear agent”/”dear sir or madam”.
Things to avoid:
Don’t beg, flatter or demean yourself. Don’t quote rejections letters (even ones with good feedback). Don’t quote critique groups, friends, paid editors, or ask rhetorical questions like: “What would it be like to kill your husband?”
Don’t offer exclusives (if you do give a time deadline). Don’t attach anything unless asked to do so. Don’t engage your spam filter or auto responder. Keep your letter to the point and be specific.
For email queries, put your contact information at the BOTTOM. Include the following: Email, phone, website, blog, Twitter, Facebook, mailing address.
Expect to hear a lot of NOs. And never, ever argue with a rejection.
Have a query tracking system so you know what/who/when/where you queried and the response.

Here’s an example of a format for a equery:

Subj: QUERY – Title by Author

Dear (Name of Agent)

Paragraph ONE: 100 word paragraph on what the book is about. This is not a synopsis. Have a line break every three lines. Makes it easier to read. Include Title, genre and word count.

Paragraph TWO: Your writing credits (If none, then skip)

Paragraph THREE: Any kind words, how you found the agent, why you picked that agent, etc.

Closing: Thank you for you time and consideration. (No need for other stuff.)

Your Name
your email
your phone
your website
your blog
your twitter name
your Facebook page

Your physical address

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26
Jan

Heading For Major Pleasure

   Posted by: DeniseAAgnew    in Denise Agnew

Major Pleasure arrives at EC January 27

Major Pleasure arrives at EC January 27

Several years ago, I proposed an anthology featuring military men to Ellora’s Cave. Within a short time I came together with Kate Hill and Arianna Hart to write the BY HONOR BOUND anthology. To make these stories even more interesting, we linked them together with family ties. The first story His Sister’s Kiss by Kate Hill features Vietnam veteran Master Sergeant Abraham Forbes. Major Pleasure, my story, features the son of Abraham, Major Blayne Forbes, Army Special Forces. The third story, Charming Annie, features Major Annie Forbes, Blayne’s cousin. I’m very happy to say that MAJOR PLEASURE will be released again January 27 as an ebook only at Ellora’s Cave www.jasminejade.com. MAJOR PLEASURE features a theme I continued to touch on in my HOT ZONE series at Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com of a soldier coming home from war and how he handles the challenge of returning to civilian life and the woman that helps him find that courage.

I’ve always enjoyed series or linked stories, just as many other readers do. I believe authors can write a series to death, and I’ve stopped reading a series if I feel the stories are starting to sound all the same. It takes considerable work for an author to write a series and keep it fresh. Do you like series and if so, why? If not, why?

Here’s an excerpt to spark your appetite for more major pleasure.

He’s got the military command…

Army Special Forces Major Blayne Forbes has always desired Jemma Teagan, but knows she’s off limits for a casual relationship. The last thing he wants is involvement with a forever kind of woman. Jemma’s desire for the diamond-in-the-rough soldier has never faded, and when he tumbles into her arms, the tough guy sends her heart rate into orbit. She doesn’t want to love a man destined for danger, until he challenges her to a display of hardware she can’t resist.

**

Jemma saw the big man walking toward her with confident strides. Her heart leapt in surprise and happiness, then thundered with excitement.

She couldn’t restrain how her breath quickened and her body hummed whenever she saw him. It didn’t matter that months of separation parted them, or that he traveled the world keeping freedom, hope, and democracy intact. No, she responded to him with unadulterated pleasure and a full-on lust she couldn’t control.

Then reality intruded. What was Blayne doing home? She almost called out to him in greeting, until she saw his slight limp and the tired expression on his face. Pale, with five o’clock shadow and a haunted look in his eye, he didn’t appear like the tough, indomitable soldier she’d known for almost two years. He caught sight of her and his trademark sultry smile started, then came to a dead stop. His mouth opened but instead of greeting her, he put one hand out to prop against the doorframe.

“Damn,” he muttered as his eyelids started to flutter.

Worried, she reached up to cup his face in one hand. “Blayne, are you all right?”

The dazed look in his eyes retreated. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

With instincts honed by years of growing up with brothers who didn’t see the doctor unless their parents hogtied them, she shifted her touch to his forehead. “You’re feverish. What’s wrong?”

He blinked as if someone had just told him he’d jumped out of a plane without a parachute. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m good.”

A little surprised by his gruff tone, she withdrew her hand. His stubble-roughened jaw scratched against her palm, and though he looked tired, he could still make the molecules in her body come to a standstill and take notice. No doubt about it, in her personal dictionary under the word hunk, the description said Blayne Forbes. From the first time Graham introduced them, she had a gut-level reaction to the man. Blayne’s unique combination of gallantry combined with a dangerous edge intrigued her. So did the soulful, sexually charged nuance in his thickly lashed dark eyes. A short, military cut restrained the curls in his lustrous, thick ash-colored hair. His somewhat crooked nose and strong jaw line added to the craggy image. His incredible, conditioned body spelled sin. In the recipe book of life under delicious there should be a picture of Major Blayne William Forbes.

For too long, steamy, sexy dreams of being with him haunted her. It didn’t help he looked delicious enough to eat.

Swirling heat filled her loins and mixed with her extreme pleasure at seeing him. God, the man is gorgeous.

Today he wore a black leather bomber jacket, thick red turtleneck sweater, and butt-loving jeans showcasing his long, muscular legs. But it didn’t matter what he wore because every time she saw him, her libido caught on fire whether she liked it or not.

More often not.

After all, getting involved with a footloose, rough-and-tumble Special Forces officer didn’t define her idea of safe and secure. He had a risky job. Chances are one of these days he’d come back from a mission in a flag-draped coffin.

Right now, though, he looked anything but tough and it worried her.

He kept his hand on the doorjamb. “Sorry, Sweets. It’s been a long day.”

Sweets. Only Blayne could get away with calling her something like that. And she’d been too damn chicken to ask him why he’d pinned her with the nickname not long after they’d met. He never said it in an insulting manner, but always in a warm, teasing tone.

“I didn’t know you were coming home,” she said. “I figured Graham would have mentioned that your unit was back.”

A grim, almost sarcastic smile spread over his face. “Graham may not have heard. I’m back alone.”

“Why?”

Clutching at the doorjamb, he shrugged those mile-wide shoulders. “Long story.”

Her eyes narrowed as she frowned. “I saw you limping. Is that why you’re back?”

His mouth thinned, his gaze sharpening. “Among other things. Is Graham here?”

“I stopped by to see if he wanted to go out to lunch, but he apparently ran out to do some errands.”

“I should have called first.” He released the doorjamb gingerly, as if unsure he could stand without the support. “It doesn’t matter. I needed to come on post anyway.”

His gaze centered on Jemma again and this time the way he looked at her brought wild, rushing feelings back to her. Warm and appreciative, his attention caressed her face. Her cheeks flushed under his unbridled interest. As her nipples tingled in response, she wanted to reach up and hug him. Every so often she thought she caught two emotions running across his expression and it always caught her off guard.

Lust and tenderness.

Tingling built in her belly, moistening forbidden areas deep between her legs in a shocking rush.

The man knows how to turn me into mush every time.

“You look good, Jemma.” His smile went brilliant, a touch of the old Blayne in his grin. “How are you?”

“I’m great.” Before she could thank him, he closed his eyes a second and winced. That did it. She clasped his arm. “I think you should sit down a minute.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Right. You almost fainted in my arms a moment ago and you look like the semi from hell plowed over you and then backed up and did it again.”

He placed his palm over her hand, effectively trapping her fingers against his arm. Big and well-shaped, his hands always inspired some pretty interesting fantasies for her.

He resurrected a wolfish grin. “Big, bad Special Forces officers don’t faint.”

She rolled her gaze to the sky a moment, then sighed. “Oh, excuse me. You don’t faint, you pass out.” She tugged on his arm and started to pull him along. “Well, Major Forbes, what am I going to do with you if you fall flat on your face right here? I’ll have to call for EMS and that would embarrass you, big bad Special Forces officer or not. Why don’t you sit in my car a minute and take it easy.”

To her surprise he allowed her to guide him to her Taurus. She opened the door and he slid into the passenger seat. She got into the driver’s seat.

When he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, she asked, “So what’s wrong? Why did you come back early? Were you injured during the mission?”

The thought of him hurt at any time made her heart drop into her shoes.

He opened his eyes but kept his head back on the seat. “Maybe I should have taken a nap before I drove straight to the post.”

“You just got back? No wonder you’re out on your feet.”

“I changed clothes and came right over. I need to talk with Graham.”

“Well, in lieu of my big brother, I can be a pretty good listener.”

He shook his head.

She grinned and crossed her arms. “Oh, is this one of those I’d-love-to-tell-you-but- then-I’d-have-to-kill-you things?”

“Yeah, some of it is.”

She sensed an undertone in Blayne’s voice, something dark and serious beneath the evasiveness.

Go for it, Jemma. “Since my dear brother stood me up for lunch, maybe you could have lunch with me.”

He looked at his watch. “You don’t have to go back to work?”

“I’m on two weeks’ vacation.”

He grunted. “You know, I think I’m going to go home and crash.” He flicked a warm, almost sensual look her way before opening the door and starting to get out. “Good to see you, Jemma. I’ll talk to you later.”

Fine. Be that way. She didn’t care if she had lunch with him anyway. He probably has a girlfriend waiting for him at home. The thought made unwelcome jealousy rise inside her.

Instead of leaving the car, he came to a stop and put his head in his hands. She reached out to touch his broad shoulder. “That’s it, Forbes. You’re telling me what’s wrong. If you’re ill, you’re going to the doctor.”

He removed his hands from his head and managed a crooked grin. “Forbes?”

“Okay, Major Forbes.” She blushed. “Blame it on my brother. He calls you that.”

Although he looked weary, he smiled. “I figured that’s where you got it.” He shook his head. “I’ve told you to call me Blayne.”

Resistance to the idea remained steady in her psyche. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re not healthy. I can see that.”

He rubbed his hand over his chin. “I’m getting over the flu.”

“I think you should see a doctor,” she said. “Then I’ll take you home.”

His gaze cleared long enough to rake over her with a sudden, blazing energy. Flickering with sensual awareness, his gaze locked with hers, then drifted to her lips.

“Yeah.” His voice came soft and sensual. “Maybe I need some nursing.”

Jemma’s belly fluttered and tingled. My, oh my. She couldn’t deny the innuendo, and she knew he realized what he’d said. She dared search his eyes, probing for his intentions and enjoying the heated way his gaze moved over her. With any other man, the blatant once-over might have seemed insulting. When Blayne looked at her like this she felt uninhibited and willing to take a dare. Hell, she felt devoured.

**

Hope you enjoyed a taste of this story. :)

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22
Jan

Love Is…

   Posted by: Samantha Kane    in uncategorized

This morning I’m going to my son’s school to interview his Kindergarten class. Parents do the hallway bulletin board, and I’m on the committee for February. The theme is Love/Compassion/Empathy. So I’m dividing the class into three groups and asking them a question:
1. Who do you think of when you hear the word Love?
2. How do you feel when a friend is hurt?
3. How can we help others who are less fortunate than we are?

I’m going to photograph each kid holding a giant heart and put their picture on the board next to their answer. Cute, huh?

So, what is love in your house? In my house it’s:
* My 9yr old son waiting in the driveway for his 3yr old sister to catch up before he starts walking again without being told;
* My husband getting up early to make breakfast for the kids and letting me sleep in EVERY MORNING;
* My 3yr. old telling her older brother, “Good job, big boy!” when he does something good.
* My 6yr old son sleeping in the hat I knit him because I made it for him.

What’s love at your house?

This is love.

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