Welcome Chris Redding

Artistes Vs Professionals

That’s probably not the right spelling, but you get what I am getting at. My oldest son is an aspiring filmmaker. We talk sometimes about craft and he is eager to learn how to write better scripts. I commend him for this. You have to learn the craft and then you have to learn the business.

One of the things I talk to him about is artistes vs those who really want to make a living doing something.

Artistes wait for the muse to strike. Professionals sit their butt down and write. Even if they only write a sentence or two today. They do it on a regular basis. They make time to do it on a regular basis.

Artistes think everything they do is gold. Professionals realize that revisions and edits are part of the process. Me, I love a good revision letter. It is a chance to take what may be a steaming pile and make it gold. Yes, editing can be like alchemy.

Artistes think that everyone should love their work and if someone doesn’t, well they just don’t understand. If you have to explain your work, then you haven’t made your point clearly. Revise it so we can all get what you are saying.

A professional will do research to get facts correct. An artiste will rely on poetic license.

It is perfectly okay to be an artiste. Just recognize that you are one. Me, I want to be a professional.

Thanks for having me today Ginger.

Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her one husband, two kids, one dog and three rabbits. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in journalism with an English minor. When she isn’t writing, she works part time for her local hospital. Her latest book, A View to a Kilt will be out electronically July1 and print August 1, 2011.

To find her on the web:

http://www.chrisreddingauthor.com/

http://chrisredddingauthor.blogspot.com/

www.facebook.com/chrisreddingauthor

www.twitter.com/chrisredding

Oh, Have I Mentioned...

It's finally here:  Although marketed as a YA, this book delivers a message that all parents and grandparents need to instill in their young ones.  When purchased through the Muse It Up Bookstore, a detailed Study Guide comes with the book to help you initiate a positive discussion about a very important topic.

Shortcomings Author: Ginger Simpson
Genre: Young Adult
Release: March 2011

Word count: 44061
Pages: 133
ISBN: 978-1-926931-38-8
E-book price: 5.50 There will be a complimentary Shortcomings Teacher's Guide with each download purchase in our bookstore.
Blurb:
Our shortcomings don't define who we are, unless we let them. Cindy Johnson needs to learn that. Born with one leg shorter than the other, she has no self-esteem because of the cruel comments and cold stares she receives from her classmates.  When Cory Neil, the football quarterback asks her to Homecoming, she's quite sure he's asked her on a dare and refuses.  It takes more than just her mother's assurances that Cindy's beautiful before she realizes she may have made a mistake in turning him down. Excerpt:
Cindy glanced at the clock above the teacher’s head for the hundredth time since taking a seat. Only ten minutes of class remained. Perspiration dampened her hands at the thought of seeing Cory. She wiped her palms on her skirt then quietly slipped her books into her backpack. What in the world had she been thinking when she agreed to meet him?
The second hand tick, tick, ticked, and with each stroke, her heart beat quickened. Her mind tried to assemble her jumbled thoughts into a proper greeting. Nice to see you!  Or, Hey, Cory, glad we could get together. She clenched her teeth. Everything sounded so stupid and rehearsed.
The bell announced the end of the period and startled her from her musing. Hoping she hadn't missed anything important the teacher may have said, she hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder and pushed free from the confines of her desk. The moment was here, and she still hadn't decided if she was filled with dread or just nervous anticipation. Her stomach churned, and the taste of bile rose in her throat. “Oh, God, I should have said no,” she muttered on her way into the hall.
Homecoming banners painted in bright colors hung everywhere. She glanced up and grimaced.  She’d never heard of spirit week at her old school; they didn’t even have a football team.
Pausing outside the library, Cindy smoothed her hair into place and took a deep breath. She walked through the doorway and scanned the tables for Cory. He wasn't there yet, thank goodness. At least she didn't have to make her entrance limping over to him. She hurried, found a seat, and rifled through her backpack to find her math book, some paper, and a pen. Poised and ready when he entered, Cindy fixed a smile on her face and tilted her head coquettishly to one side. That seemed to be a pose assumed at least once by her favorite romance heroines. She licked her lips and swallowed, trying to find saliva in a mouth as dry as cotton.
She spied him as soon as he came through the door.  Her heart hitched. As he neared, Cindy took a deep breath and prayed whatever she said came out semi-intelligently. She tried to look relaxed, but beneath the table, she pressed on her stomach to quell the flippy thing that happened whenever he was near.
“Hi, Cory.” Her voice held a nervous quiver. Being with a boy was totally new ground.
“Hey, been waiting long?” He plopped his backpack on the table.
She looked up at him, trying to maintain her composure. “Uh, no, I just got here. Are you ready to get started?”
“Yeah, I need all the help I can get.”
“Shhh.”  Cindy held a finger to her lips. “We’re in the library, remember?”
He grinned and slid into the chair next to her. “Well, where do we begin?” His voice was so low she barely heard him.
Her fingers trembled as she pulled her math book over and opened it. Cory smelled like he'd just walked out of a shower. His nearness distracted her. “I…I guess we’ll start with what we’re studying in class? How are you with equations?’  She softly cleared her throat to quell the quiver in her voice.
“I suck at them.”  His brow creased. “Anything to do with math confuses the heck out of me. If only numbers came as easy as playing football.”
Although she hadn't been to an actual game, visions of him in his uniform flashed through her mind. She’d caught a glimpse of him at a noontime pep rally a few days back and struggled not to stare. A smile tugged at her lips, but she sobered quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed. She didn't want to act all giddy and stupid despite the fact he was a sight to behold in his shoulder pads and tight pants.
The room grew warmer. She lifted the hair from the back of her neck. “Let’s get started.” She felt a tad breathless, and math offered a welcome distraction.
After an hour, Cindy closed the textbook and leaned closer to him. “Do you think that helped at all? You seemed to be a little clearer than when we started.”
“I’m beginning to understand.” He paused, and with a sheepish shrug adjusted his volume. “But I think I need a few more sessions, if you’re willing?”
His request sounded like music to her ears. A few more sessions?  She’d spend a lifetime with him if he asked, but she pushed her girlish thoughts aside and nodded at him. “Not a problem. I don’t really have anything else planned, and this sure beats being at home with a bunch of crazy kids.”
A stray, dark curl hung in the middle of his forehead; Cindy had a sudden urge to reach and brush it back but resisted. His nearness stifled her, made her want to act crazy. She scooted away. “So, tomorrow then?”
Cory stood, but she remained seated. There was no way she wanted to display her uneven gait while walking out with him. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.
“I still have some homework to do. The library doesn't close for another half hour, so I’m gonna stick around a while longer.”
He picked up his backpack and patted her shoulder. “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow. I have practice the day after, but on days I don’t, I really need your help.”  He slung his book bag over his shoulder and flashed his trademark smile at her.
Her skin warmed beneath his hand—a feeling she wanted to capture and keep forever. “Sure, I…I’ll meet you here at the same time.” What was it about him that made speaking difficult?
Her gaze remained fixed on him as he walked away. His shoulders were broad even without the pads he wore under his uniform, and his jeans fit just right, not sagging in the backside like some of the boys at school. What she wouldn't give to be the girl he asked to the dance.

Also available for your Kindle.  You can email me and I'll send you the study guide.

Welcome, Roseanne Dowell

I remember starting out 48 years ago as a young bride. Life had so much to offer and 48 years seemed like an eternity away. Funny, I look back now and it seems like only yesterday. Like the song, “Don’t Blink” a hundred years goes faster than you think.

If you would have told me 48 years ago that I’d be a mother of six, grandmother of 14 and a great grandmother and I’d be a published author, I would have laughed at you. I mean seriously laughed. Okay, mother of six, I could buy that. I always wanted a lot of children, coming from a large family, I’m the second youngest of six,. So if you would have told me I’d have six children, I would have said “good”. In fact if you would have told me I’d have fourteen grandchildren, I would have been thrilled and even expected more. My own parents had twenty-three.  And if you would have said I’d have one great grandchild, I probably would have asked “Is that all?” After all I have four granddaughters old enough to have at least one a piece. Heck, my oldest granddaughter is twenty-seven, by that time I was pregnant with my sixth.

But all that aside, what would have surprised me is that I’d be a published author. Not that I’d be a writer, because even back then I loved to write. But in my wildest dreams, I don’t think I ever thought about being published. Okay, maybe a couple of times.

With raising six children, there wasn’t a lot of time to write. My husband was a truck driver and on the road a good portion of the time, so raising the kids was my full time job. If you ask any of my kids, they’ll tell you I ruled with an iron hand – oh wait, that was my brother in law who said that. But I’m sure my kids would agree. What choice did I have? With six little ones running around, someone had to keep them inline. That task was up to me. When hubby came home on the weekends, he didn’t want to be the bad guy. “After all,” he said, “I don’t want them to hate me coming home.” Great, so they could hate me instead.

Not that they do, thank God. But life wasn’t easy. I used to say I was a single parent without the perks. I didn’t get to go out and date or have any fun. Okay, I did go out – shopping or to Bingo with my sister – how’s that for fun? Actually it was. I had no desire to go out bar-hopping, and I certainly wasn’t looking for another man. One was quite enough, thank you very much. Besides, I loved the guy.

So, as I said, there certainly wasn’t much time to write, but I read a lot. In fact, I joined Double Day Book Club when we first got married and I only recently quit it. Okay, I quit several times in between, but I always ended up joining again a year or so later. Needless to say, I have quite a library of books. Actually, I had more, but somehow in the move from our home to an apartment, they disappeared. I think my kids threw them out. I mean I had boxes and boxes and boxes of books. They probably figured I wouldn’t miss a few or five or ten.

Anyway, that’s off topic. I wrote a bit back then and even took a writing course for children. Not a good fit. I didn’t think enough like a child to write for them. So I just wrote short stuff here and there. I never even tried to publish it.

Nope, that didn’t happen until about eight years ago. My sister in law and a group of friends decided to start a book club, because we all loved mysteries. I was game. What the heck, I loved reading and mysteries were one of my favorite genres. So it happens at one of the meetings, yes we really did discuss the books – at least for a few minutes, someone asked what we all regretted not doing. I freely admitted I regretted not writing.

Well that’s all it took, they were on me like flies on butter. “It wasn’t too late,” they all agreed. So that got me thinking and I decided they were right. I took a writing course and they encouraged me to submit. So submit I did. Let me tell you, they could have peeled me off the ceiling when I got my first acceptance. Funny thing, it wasn’t fiction. My first acceptance was for nonfiction – which I didn’t think I’d ever write. In fact most of my forty articles that are published were nonfiction. Now I even teach nonfiction writing classes for Long Story Short School of Writing. www.lsswritingschool.com

Did I ever think I’d write a novel? Not in this lifetime, but here I am seven novels later and two of them published with Red Rose Publishing, two more due out in Sept and Oct. with Red Rose and two novels and three novellas due out from MuseIt Up Publishing starting in March 2011. I’ve submitted one other novel and a couple more novellas to MuseIt Up and I’m anxiously waiting to hear back. More info at http://redrosepublishing.com/books/ and

http://museituppublishing.com/musepub/

I guess my whole point of this article – is never doubt you can do something. Never give up on your dream. It’s never too late.

If you’d like to know more about me check out my website and blog

 http://roseannedowell.com/
 http://roseannedowellauthor.blogspot.com/

How do you extinguish a sentient forest fire? And should you?

Caul Shroud and Veil
By Kim McDougall

Book I of the FireRaisers Trilogy

ISBN-10: 1-55404-635-1
ISBN-13: 978-1-55404-635-5
Genre: Fantasy
Length: 369 pages
Publisher: Double Dragon Publishing

Canaan, a broken god, and Maia, a young FireRaiser, face the horrors behind a sentient forest fire razing the continent of Gnoss. Gnoss' divine king, Alred, is too wrapped up in his own fears to believe that his kingdom is truly threatened by a power greater than his own. These three characters collide in a battle of wills. Each is dependent on the other. Each believes he is alone to battle the demons that come from inside as well as those hiding in the darkest forests.

———
Excerpt:

I have said it before, and I’ll repeat it again, for those who chose not to hear. Prophecies are meaningless. Though a prophet’s words may conceal a grain of truth, only the gods have true sight. Man’s limited faculties twist the prophecy, submitting it to emotion and bias until it could mean anything or nothing.

That said, there are some prophecies, those which come from Ohd’s own breath, that even the gods must heed.
Lectures from a God: Canaan FireRaiser

I fell in love with Maia the moment she turned her true eyes on me, eyes that knew me not as a beggar, but as a god. I had delighted in the spark of her laughter and the rumble of her loosened anger for many years already. Had I only kept track of her for Ohd’s purpose, or a bit of my own as well? Had it been necessary to invade her most private moments? To see her caress fire like a lover? To watch her lust after the mythical Demonbane?

When I say in that moment, I loved her—at least as much as a creature several eons old can love—it was with that kind of love which could turn traitor or champion.

I had easily spied her in the crowd. Her red hair blazed like lava around her shoulders, a flame among the ashes of a civilization. As I grabbed her, I realized I had been aching to do so. My hand covered her mouth and I imagined I could feel her lips through my steel bands. When she struggled, her hair beat against me like the wings of a thousand fireflies. By the time I had secured her hands, her struggles had left me weak with desire, and loathing. My old, broken body felt young again. Young and hot, and I despised her for it.

When she agreed not to scream—and how I ached to hear her scream—I let her go.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I was older than Gnoss?” I asked.

Maia nodded slowly. Her gaze was wide and fixed on my own. She was afraid, but drawn to me like a moth to a candle. She would not run away.

“There is a prophecy,” I continued urgently, as if we might be interrupted before I could finish. “Your mother knew of it. It is her family’s legacy.

“There will come a time of war when the Son of Gnoss will make the wrong choices, and send his people into a spiral of starvation and poverty. The wind in the trees sings that only the love of a woman can sway his choices and lead him down the right path.”

I took her fine pink hands in my own ragged one. She flinched slightly, expecting my fingers to burn her, but I willed my touch to be a caress instead. The only heat she felt was that of my false sincerity.

“That time is now, Maia, and you are that woman.”

Had I been mortal, I would have held my breath. Would she believe? Would she see through my half truths and doubts? Was she still young and mutable enough to trust in the power of prophecies?

She tried to back away from me, but I held on tighter.

“You see fire, don’t you?” I asked. “You see flames around people’s heads. Those are veil flames, the breath of Ohd in each of us. You see them because you are a FireRaiser.”

Maia shook her head.

“No, no, no!” She denied her sight or the existence of the flames or even this whole conversation.

“Listen to that,” I said. We could hear the mob busy with their lynching in the distance. “Someone must stop that madness. All over the world people like yourself, who don’t believe in the mechanism of modern thought, are organizing to rise against the reigning governments. You can be part of that. You are part of that.”

“Against the government. You mean my father?” she asked.

“I mean all governors, even the Glory…”

“The Glory!”

Now she really did back away from me, pulling her hands out of my grasp. I spoke faster, hoping to sway her before learned convictions shut her mind from the truth.

“The Glory is just a man. Only Ohd holds the key to our future. Only Ohd can grant forgiveness.”

Her eyes blazed at me in anger.

“You speak in lies,” she said, “but it doesn’t matter. I have no part in it.”

“But you do, Maia.” I played my trump card. “Your mother would have wanted it so.”

“I don’t believe you!” She pushed past me. “My mother was not demonborn! You are the demon!”

“Maia, please listen.” I grabbed at her again, but our previous struggle had left me weak and she ran down the street away from my grasp and my influence, already forgetting my existence.

I watched her wind through the crowd, her red head bobbing like a candle flame in a drafty room. I would go to her again and again, each time breaking down her defenses until finally she accepted and remembered me. Only then could she come into the Circle of Five.


Watch the trailer and read another excerpt at Blazing Trailers.


Leave a comment for this post and be entered to win "Caul Shroud and Veil" in ebook. Winners will be chosen 9pm EST, Friday April 10th, 2009.

Good Morning from Kim McDougall

Hi everyone!

Ginger was kind enough to let me mooch off her blog today. I thought I'd introduce myself before I make a few posts.

I'm an author, fiber artist and photographer. I write children's and YA fiction under my married name, Kim Chatel. My evil twin, Kim McDougall, writes dark (sometimes erotic) fantasy fiction. I have two separate websites so that I don't mix these genres up. That would be bad.

I recently took up a third pen name, Eliza Crowe for my erotic magic-realism novel, The Golden Hour. Not to confuse everyone, my legal name is Kim McDougall. You can call me Kim. Or Hey You. : ) I'm originally from Montreal, Canada, but I now live in Pennsylvania with DH, one daughter and several critters.

I have several titles that I’d like to share with you today. I brand my style as Between the Cracks Fiction. If you’d like to know why visit BTC 101 on my site at www.kimmcdougall.com

My children's site Chatel Village has the cutest homepage on the web. Every week, I add new recipes, craft ideas and book reviews.

Finally, I make book trailers. Lots and lots of book trailers. I founded Blazing Trailers to showcase this unique new promotional tool. We now have over 300 trailers listed and growing every day. Check it out at www.blazingtrailers.com

I'm going to share some excerpts from my three new releases, one under each name. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. I'd love to hear from you, so if you stop by, please leave a comment.

Leave a comment on any of my posts and you'll be entered to win one of my books! Winners will be chosen 9pm EST, Friday April 10th, 2009.