Tuesday, November 24, 2020

A Snippet: Constance & Enzo's Tea Time With Peyton

Hi, all. I've been working on the audition script for Constance & Enzo, which is slated to follow Asylum in the audio book category, and thought to share a chapter for your reading pleasure. Hope you enjoy.


Chapter 7 – Two Lessons

Enzo’s focus intensified as he brought his face almost to the tabletop, his hazel-green eyes narrowing on the little white feather they’d retrieved from Peyton’s duvet.

Peyton giggled. “Your eyes are crossing.”

Enzo remained singly engaged in his task.

Peyton sucked in a breath and pursed her lips in silent support.

Enzo inhaled, then blew, his gaze never faltering, and though the feather remained on the spot they’d carefully placed it (which was the same result as the first and every attempt that had followed), it fluttered, ever-so-slightly.

Peyton gasped painfully, her lungs already full of held air, then cheered on a giant outbreath.

Enzo peered up at her, a light in his eye. “Did you see that?”

Peyton nodded, and Enzo cheered, too, jumping up and dancing around the room.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, hopping a little on the spot in a rare moment of unfettered joy. But a familiar feeling stirred beneath the excitement, too, as she watched Enzo whirl about the room, his form leaving trails as it zipped too fast to be solid, too smoothly to be trapped inside a body that was tangible.

Apprehension.

For Enzo’s progress meant something more than an improvement to his mood and endless possibilities insofar as his freedom was concerned. It also meant an enhanced capacity for the types of tricks and teasing that Enzo loved - and Peyton would surely pay for, should Constance catch on.

But even more ominous was the fact that Enzo’s hair-trigger of a temper would experience a dangerous boost in potential outlets.

He was happy now, but Peyton knew him well enough, even after only a few months of acquaintance, to predict a shift back to resentment – or worse – boredom, as soon as the novelty wore off.

Enzo whooped as he spun again, then darted back to the table. Peyton watched, a small smile still playing at her lips as she tried not to ruminate on the darker implications of his success. But instead of refocusing on the feather, which had moved in the wake of their celebrations, he jerked his gaze to the windows. “It’ll be time for tea soon,” he murmured, his voice low.

Peyton scanned the line of windows along the western wall, then looked down at herself, her heart starting to race. “Oh, no!”

She’d been so busy with Enzo that she hadn’t even dressed for the day, much less for tea.

Enzo observed the frenzied flurry of activity that followed with an amused smirk.

“Can I have some privacy, please?” Peyton asked, her voice high.

He picked at his teeth, then looked at her lazily, his eyebrows raised. “Hm?”

“Enzo! I need to get ready!”

He rolled his eyes. “You know I could watch you dress anytime without you having a clue.”

Peyton threw her hands into the air, the dress and tights she clutched flouncing dramatically. “Can we please keep up the pretense, for my benefit, that I’m able to believe nobody is watching me dress?” she exclaimed, punctuating the sentence with several little stomps, like an overstimulated toddler.

Enzo bent to the table again, his eyes on the feather.

Peyton feared she might explode. “Enzo!”

He ignored her.

She shut her eyes, inhaling. Willed her heart to slow and her blood pressure to stabilize. She blew out, regarding him again as she concentrated her angst on the clothes she grasped with clenched fists. “I’ve spent a lot of time helping you in the last week. The whole time I’ve been here, actually.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow in her direction.

Peyton shuffled her feet a bit. She loathed confrontation, but had found herself challenged by it more in her short time with Constance and Enzo than she’d ever found at any other time of her life. And that was saying something, given the very things that made her different. “Enzo, please.”

Empowered by her gift or not, Peyton was ever-aware that she was at the mercy of the twins. And if Enzo was angry with her and refused to cooperate, Constance would know. And she was fully capable of acting on her whims, being alive and all. Peyton hung her head.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Enzo lamented, but something like satisfaction laced his words.

Peyton clenched her jaw.

Suddenly he was in front of her and she froze. It was hard being this close to anyone.

“You’re so weird,” he voiced, and it hurt her more than anger could have, because it was true.

She glanced again at the trees, the sunlight dipping behind them, making them into silhouettes. “Fine,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she begun to remove her shirt.

Enzo giggled. “Don’t be indecent!”

Peyton, pressed onward by the anticipation of Constance’s arrival, did not pause.

“Ugh,” Enzo sighed, then snapped his fingers and was gone, just like that.

Peyton did pause, then. “That was new,” she muttered.

He was back before Constance arrived, though, popping back into existence as soon as Peyton was dressed. He was watching! she internalized with a frown as he sat beside her on the bed.

“She’s late,” he said.

Peyton nodded. “Do you know why?”

Enzo shrugged.

Peyton studied his features. “You do, don’t you?”

He smiled as he studied his fingernails. “She’s had a visitor.” Something darkened his expression, even as he feigned indifference.

Peyton paused, then ran to the window. “That car’s here again,” she remarked, mostly to herself. It was a black Bentley, and she’d seen it once before, but had missed its owner. She whirled on Enzo. “Whose car is that?”

He regarded her darkly.

“A friend?”

He laughed.

“Family?”

His smile faded.

“Is it your father?” she tried, but knew it was wrong. He wasn’t due to return for another week.

Enzo shook his head. “If it were, we’d be at tea now. He’s not here even when he is.”

Peyton looked down at the car again.

“You’ve seen her before,” Enzo hinted, but the teasing tone she’d usually have expected was apparent.

She frowned again. Her? “I’ve only ever seen you and Constance,” she retorted. “Unless -” she gasped. “Oh!”

Enzo watched her, waiting.

“You know what I’ve seen?”

“Who do you think’s been showing you?”

She shook her head. She’d never quite understood just how the dead communicated. The methodologies escaped her, though she heard them, loud and clear. It wasn’t just conversation, though. The give and take of that was easiest to comprehend, but more difficult for them. Dreams seemed easiest, and visions came in as a close second, but there were so many more ways. Her thoughts turned to the one constant she’d seen in her head since Constance had approached her after her last art class: the stables. The hayloft. The blonde woman, naked and straddling the bodily form of the ghost who watched her, now.

“Her?” she asked, and the word was met with a single nod, Enzo’s eyes hard. She looked back down and as if by some miracle of timing, she was there, walking toward the car in a smart skirt and blazer, her hair pinned into a French twist. Peyton leaned forward until her forehead met the cool glass, straining to see details and failing as the woman lowered herself into the driver’s seat smoothly. She watched the car turn and fade down the driveway, then looked over her shoulder for Enzo. She jumped back, having found his head just behind her, disembodied and gazing out the window over her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he muttered as the rest of him materialized.

She shook her head. “Who is she?”

“My mother,” he replied without hesitation, all traces of mischief erased from his comportment.

Just for that moment.

And then there came the sound of a key in the lock.



Saturday, November 21, 2020

Coming Soon...Asylum! ...but Different.

 I'm so excited to finally be entering the world of audio books. Honestly, it's always been on my back burner, but I've held off, saying I can't afford it (I can't) and that I'll get to it when some real money starts rolling in.

Hahahahahaha.

And then I thought, wait a sec! What if audio books are the thing that will help the real money to start rolling in!?

OK I'm not so ignorant (or unrealistic) as to think that this, this will be the big break I've dreamt of... but maybe it's the little nudge that'll help my stories out of obscurity. Maybe their accessibility in a new/widened market will garner more attention. 

Maybe I just need to keep investing in my passion, aiming way too high and landing somewhere between buried in a seemingly infinite stack of indie authors and #1 best-seller. 

I'd settle for extraordinary. 

:)

So, stay tuned. Up first: 



Thursday, October 22, 2020

Poem

I'm writing something new (surprise!). The first book of a new series called "The Seers". I see fivish books in this one, and the first (Spirit Talker) is weird, with poems taking the place of chapters here and there. 

Here's one:

            The Dark

Do you feel them creeping there?

Beyond the door, under the stair

Roiling belly, whisper, glare

Dark energy dwells there

 

You’re right to shun the musty rooms

Forgotten casket, eternal tombs

Headache pulsing, thick dread looms

Heavy heart, impending doom

 

They reach with twisted fingers, limbs

Hot, bubbling beneath the skin

Encite the boiling fear within

Paint canvasses of chain-linked sin

 

Once tethered, they will grasp and hold

With frost-lined tendrils, veins of cold

Infused with thoughts and dreams so bold

To terrify, sicken and drain when told

 

So do not let them hang from you

Dripping menace, sticky dew

Hell’s honey clinging endless to

The secret danker spots in you

 

Turn body and mind’s eye away

T’ward lighter thoughts, dwell in the day

Let paths of good lead you and sway

Your tendency to joyful play

 

Turn, child, be safe! Build solid home

Between sinew and blood and bone

Hold strength and comfort, lessons shown

            Your beating heart is not alone

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

A New Start

 

Chapter 1 – Fear

 

“But, why?

At four, she knew enough to tense when she said it, because the result could be only one of two things: her mother would sigh and get a faraway look in her eyes while she crafted the perfect answer, or she’d reached her limit and her mother would roll her eyes, muttering something about her “answer well” having dried up for the day. Or worse, giving Shya that look – the one that meant stop.

Thankfully, this time her mother took her onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her, and Shya nearly swooned in the warmth of her embrace. But then came to attention, remembering to that faraway look in her mother’s eyes and straining to see it. It made her mother laugh. She kissed the top of Shya’s head.

“Daddy believes in what he can see,” she said.

“But -”

Her mother shook her head, her lips on Shya’s crown so that she would sense the movement. “It’s just how some people are, sweetheart.”

“But I know there’s someone in here,” Shya whispered, her eyes flicking to the dark corner, the closet door, the foot of the bed.

Her mother was quiet for a time. Shya moved against her chest with the rhythmic movement of her breath. She perceived her mother’s heartbeat against the back of her head and her eyes drooped, some past, pervasive sense of comfort threatening to overtake her completely.

“I know,” her mother finally said, her tone as hushed as Shya’s had been and the words tangling in her hair like extensions of the faint moonlight that filtered through her bedroom curtains.

Shya twisted around, needing to meet her eyes, and her mother loosened her arms, straining, too. Connecting. Understanding her need. “You do?” Shya asked and then held her breath, already having experienced enough interaction with people to know that they teased and sometimes even lied in order to smooth the truth. Mother hadn’t ever done that – it was why she trusted her so completely! – but she needed reassurance, anyway.

This was important.

Her mother nodded. “I do,” she said. Her eyes were luminous in the darkened room, somehow picking up the glow of the night sky and gathering it there. Shya thought her mother's gaze was very nearly magical.

“How?”

Her mother smiled. “My mother knew, too. And my grandmother. There is a long line of ancestors that knew, Shya. But we know something else, too: you don’t have to be scared.”

Shya hiccoughed suddenly as her eyes filled with tears. Her chest had filled so quickly that it shocked her, and the sound escaped her on its own, making her mother giggle. Shya didn’t mind; it was a funny sound. Besides, the fullness of her chest was what mattered. The fact that others knew. Others like her.

“I believe there are many things that exist outside of our perception, most of the time,” her mother said, her eyes going to the window dreamily. Shya would remember that statement for the remainder of her life, repeating it in the early years until she understood it fully, and then coming back to it when she needed the solidity of it.

Shya frowned.

“What?”

“I hear them, but I don’t see them.”

Her mother pursed her lips, nodding.

“Is - was it like that for you and Grandma, too?”

“It was,” she tucked a lock of hair behind Shya’s ear, her face unreadable, “but then it changed, and we could see them, too.”

Shya gasped, but her mother shook her head again.

“I was afraid too, at first, but then it became part of who I was and it stopped being scary.”

“Really?”

Her mother nodded solemnly.

“So, will I see them, too?” Shya felt her eyes widen at the thought and shivered a little.

Her mother paused again, rubbing Shya’s upper arm with an absently-moving thumb.

“Mommy?”

Her mother met her eyes again. “Probably, darling. But hopefully, it won’t be for a long while, and we can talk about it before then, so you’ll be ready.”

It was so simple, but so fulsome. So perfect. Her mother had a way with words.

“OK?”

Shya relaxed into the warmth of her mother again, confident enough to let go of the nagging sense of urgency that had nipped at her earlier.

Her mother kissed her forehead, the scent of her lingering in Shya’s nostrils intoxicatingly as she lay her down and tucked her in. Whispered, “I love you, sweet girl” into her hair and kissed her again.

Sweet orange, lavender and rosemary. Her mother’s nighttime oils were as much a part of her as her voice. Her touch.

Shya would catch them on the air long after her mother stopped gathering her into her lap. And remember her words – the ones that ended up being a lie, after all – “you’ll be ready.”

 

Tuesday, August 25, 2020

Love, Genny xo

In honor of reaching 300 followers of the FB Rose's Ghost page, I'm pleased to offer my latest finished manuscript for free: a novella called Love, Genny xo

Told in the form of letters rather than chapters, this often sad but overall triumphant story of a woman who decides to live in her camper through the harshest of Canadian seasons is a foray into something a bit different for yours truly, and written as a gift to myself and to the readers that support me on this beautiful journey of becoming a career writer. 

Please note that because this is not published for profit, you may find errors within! For that I must beg your forgiveness; during this crazy time, money is short and I confess to being flawed where editing my own stuff is concerned. 

Thank you, dear readers. You'll always be able to find the link to the story on the right-hand toolbar, and if you're so compelled to comment or inquire, please leave your input on the Rose's Ghost page linked above, or contact me by email

With love,

Theresa xo


Thursday, August 13, 2020

Constance & Enzo's Tea Time With Peyton

 Out for edit, and shaping up for a September Release: a standalone that has familiar connections! 

The blurb: 

Peyton’s come a long way from the awkward twelve-year-old girl we met in That Summer, but her incredible gift is still wreaking havoc with her life.

In her ongoing quest to find others like her, she’s unknowingly left a trail of breadcrumbs to her front door – for commiserating friends and desperate souls, alike. But she couldn’t have predicted the lengths one visiting stranger would go to take advantage of her ability to talk to the dead.

She’s never been good at reading people, dead or alive, But this time her shortcomings - combined with the all-encompassing need of her captor - result in her disappearance.

Her advantage is that those who love her will do everything they can to find her and bring her home, including the recruitment of two uniquely qualified women. Will Margot - a pioneer in the world of science and the supernatural - and Charis - a sometimes reluctant, but incredibly gifted psychic - succeed in using their own special talents to see clues the police simply can't?

Coming Soon:


Friday, July 31, 2020

On Criticism - Constructive or Otherwise

First: tell me what you don't like. 
Please.
I appreciate those comments as much as the positives! Well...almost. ;)
I had a very talented, trusted reader (who also edits my stuff and is my Dad) drop a couple hints at criticism, then come right back and apologize, wishing he could take it all back.
But,..I NEED THAT SHIT. 
OK, if I'm honest, even the slightest hint at a negative remark caused me pangs of anxiety in the beginning. And suggestions - well, they nearly ended this career I'm trying to build, over here. Stuff like, I think you should start the chapter like this, or, I prefer this tense - sheer panic. Because all I heard was you did it wrong. But it's amazing what a year of rejection will do to toughen you up...and a year of self-publishing, including ARC results and honest reviews. There's a lot of self-doubt involved in this line of work, but there's a lot of triumph, too.
In short, your "criticism" was useful, Daddy, when some others cut deep, with no redeeming qualities to help the blood coagulate.
I need to know what I'm doing wrong, just as much as I need feedback on what hits you right, or else how will I change and grow? 
Second: I just said it. Tell me what you do like, too!
I think negative criticism is louder because it seems more important to point out the errors than to tout the scores. A positive review is usually short: vague sentiments and five stars, and they're done. But despite the affirmation of my chosen line of work that comes from any positive review, I'm often left wondering what I'd done to strike the right chord in the reviewer, too. 
I know I need to build my own team of beta-readers, and I'm trying! I really am - but it's challenging. 
I guess all I'm trying for something that will give back in value for both sides, and having a hard time figuring out the semantics. 
So in the meantime, whether you like my book or not, tell me. And for the love of God, tell me why. I love you. Thank you!

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

I'm Just Having Too Much Fun

Tom's Apocalypse is finished, cleaned up, and in the hands of my most trusted reader, input-giver, and grammar/spelling stickler. The fact that he's my Dad is just a gigantic bonus.

So, what's next?

I need to figure out what to DO with Tom now that it's finished. The pandemic I've created is maybe a little too similar to current-day circumstances for a quick release, though it's far more swift to devastate, and boasts a macabre host of symptoms COVID could never match. So, clearly fiction, but maybe a bit too much while we're still watching and waiting for answers during our own crisis.

In other words, maybe I should wait until we're sure our results aren't scarier than the fiction the virus inspired?

In any case, I'll get it ready (with my all-star team, of course) and see what happens. in the meantime, here are the cover contenders:

 

Now, on to what's coming:

 - I've submitted Dark Mirror to a press I admire; I should know mid - late fall whether it'll be selected. If not, I'll publish it in October.

- Stumble remains an enigma for me - more demon than ghost in some ways, and still hasn't be read by another soul. But I think some of my best writing is within its pages. Likely, it's another one that will have to wait for its time...

- Constance & Enzo's Tea Time With Peyton - Oh my God I cannot wait to put this out...but I haven't a clue when! It features characters from That Summer, Bird With A Broken Wing and the Rose's Ghost Trilogy, which made it a blast to write, but do I release it now, when the Trilogy is still gaining new readership, or wait until readers want more? Which brings me to my next project that's been percolating:

- A second Trilogy in the Rose series. Yep. Some time has passed, and we get to know the children of our past protagonists as they deal with experiences of their own. I see Dmitry, Greyson and Roisin in my mind so clearly, and their stories are begging to be told. But, first:

- I am going to finish a long-time in the works project this summer. It's called Dear Daddy and features a mentally unstable woman who is living in denial of what she's lost - and she's doing it in a camper in the woods, through a bitter Quebec winter. It's written as a series of letters, mostly to her father (hence the title).

- Totally new projects include a story called Wisp, which is told from the perspective of a ghost, and a thriller/fantasy mashup featuring a parallel world of elf-type folk. That one's called Fable, after the town in which it is set.

Can you feel how excited I am? Because I think I'm oozing it. I love this writing stuff.

I'll keep writing, and you keep reading. OK?

Deal.

Sunday, June 7, 2020

Asylum Snippets...

Guys, I don't know if I can wait to get this one out...here's a taste, but let me give you some context: the majority of the story is told from our protagonist's (Bailey's) point of view. An intelligent young woman who was knocked off an ambitious course to doctorhood by the shocking end to a long-term relationship, Bailey still has a passion for helping those less fortunate than herself.

Which might explain the first time she saw the ghost. But it wasn't the last, not by far.

What seems like an epic adventure across the border to photograph long-abandoned Briarhurst before it is demolished turns into something very different when Bailey is entreated to stay, even after her group of friends must leave. But she's not alone in her quest to solve the mysteries of the lingering ghost children; she just happens to be the only one still living.

I've sprinkled historic newspaper articles throughout so readers are afforded a look into the history of the Briarhurst Asylum for Handicapped Children. The following is a portion of one of them, and I've stuck a bit from our Bailey in, afterward:


Chapter 8 – Article #2: Brambleton Times


BRIARHAVEN INSTITUTION: ANGRY FAMILIES UP IN ARMS AS POLICE INVESTIGATION CONTINUES AND SHOCKING REVELATIONS EMERGE.

September 25, 1978
Brambleton Times
By Jenson Carter

Reeling in the wake of the announcement that Briarhaven is under official Police investigation, former residents and their families are demanding answers. And one of their questions is “Should we sue now or wait until the investigation is complete?”

Perhaps I can help.

Let me tell you first that concerned families and those residents directly impacted by the downfall and delinquency of the failing institution – and let’s keep in mind that this is an institution that has been entrusted with disabled children for three-quarters of a century – aren’t the only stakeholders reacting in outrage. The City Council has announced an investigation of its own, stating,

“We are appalled to learn that a local organization trusted with the most vulnerable of souls from around the country has not only failed to meet standards, but appears to have abused this organization’s trust in it for far too long. In solidarity with the families and friends affected, we pledge to scrutinize the situation carefully, and ensure that safeguards are put in place in the future so that no one else suffers at the hands of such neglect and outright abuse.”

Strong words, especially considering there has been little released officially. Makes you wonder if the Council has heard the rumors, too? Makes you wonder if they know more already…

Mayor Jim Barney appears genuinely shocked, but is refusing to comment on the matter until results of the investigation are official and/or charges have been laid.

And then there’s the statement put forward by Briarhaven, itself. Yes! They’ve released a statement, and though it says very little, the fact that they’ve already acknowledged the investigation is rather a surprise. Here’s what we at the Times found most relevant amidst assurances of “effective processes” and “the prioritized care and comfort of our patients,”

“While we are aware that continuing staff shortages, as well as the impact of recently loosened regulations on qualified caregivers has had some detrimental effect on our organization as a whole, we want to reassure concerned citizens that we continue to hold ourselves to high internal standards. The health and safety of our children is first and foremost in our minds at all time, by mission and mandate.”

Excuse me while I vomit into my trashcan.

Apologies to the more sensitive of my readers, but as the lead undercover investigator for this publication, and someone who spent more than two months within Briarhaven Institution, pretty words from their legal team insight more nausea than comfort. They may succeed in turning the attention of some away, but not one who’s seen what occurs on a day-to-day basis inside their secluded walls.

~~~~~~~~~

A bit from Bailey:


...I looked backward at her and saw the door open inward at the opposite end of the hall. “Shit; they’re coming!”

Moshi’s face hardened and she was suddenly zipping past me. A bare foot - pale, but dirty - stepped through the door and I let out a shocked screech.

“What?” Moshi screamed in answer.

A shot of adrenaline coursed through me. I tore my eyes from the foot as it elongated into a leg, a knee, a filthy hem of a white dress – but when I whipped my head back around, Moshi was skidding to a stop and reaching for the door and I was on track to knock her over for the second time that day. Acting instead of thinking, I veered to the left at the last second, crashing spectacularly through the section of wall that came out into the hallway. My head slammed into the opposite wall and I crumpled instantly, stars bursting before my eyes and then fading, only to bloom into explosions of pain in my neck, head and – well, everywhere, really.

“Bailey!” Moshi yelled, then was looking down at me through the ruined drywall. I worked to get my bearings, but every movement was awarded with stabs of pain behind my eyes. And my awkward position was disorienting in itself; my right leg hung through the drywall, still, and I was half on my back/half on my side at the foot of a very narrow staircase.

I groaned, then remembered our pursuer. “Where are they?” I gasped as I tried to sit, but my head protested enough to knock me back. “Shit,” I muttered, no longer caring who we’d been running from as stars filled my vision once more.

“They’re gone!” Moshi’s voice echoed up the stairs beside me and I worked to regain my vision.

Vertigo rolled over me. “Oh, God,” I moaned. “I might puke.”

“I’m calling Cal,” Moshi muttered.

I stayed as still as possible, my arm over my face to block the light. “Did you see who was following us?”

“No; I only heard them! Cal? Oh, thank God. You’re not going to believe this: we found the false wall to the attic!

I managed a laugh.

“Bailey crashed right through it! And I think she’s got a concussion; can you come?”

A sound, small but definite, echoed down to me. I held my breath and peered around my arm. Something moved in the shadows at the top of the stairs. I sucked in a breath. “Mosh?”

Moshi was telling Cal about the footsteps that had been following us. The sound came again from above me. It sounded like footsteps, too. Just like the ones from before. But, how -?  My stomach did a sick somersault as the shadows moved again.

“Moshi? I heard the pitch of my voice and tensed. “I know who was following us,” I called out, tears filling my eyes.

What? Just a sec, Cal.” Moshi peered through the hole in the wall. “What, honey?” Her face changed. “Oh, you’re pale.”

I pointed weakly toward the top of the stairs. “She’s up there,” I cried, tears spilling onto my cheeks. “It was her.”


~~~~~~~~

Coming soon:





Sunday, May 10, 2020

Free Rose's Ghost

I am doing a little promo today to celebrate reaching 200 followers on the Rose's Ghost FB page: free Rose's Ghost eBook:

Saturday, April 25, 2020

Chrysalis

Available now, on Amazon:
I hope Trey makes you fall in love with him, just like he did with me.

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Self-Publishing Lesson #2: So, You Know What You've Got - Now, What Do You Want To Do With It?

CONGRATULATIONS!

You've finished your manuscript! You have something to publish!

Take a moment to revel in the joys of having a complete product in your hands, because in many cases, all the work you've put into your products is far less challenging than selling it will be. Take a moment to let that percolate, dear readers.

Take another moment. Maybe double-check your "What Do I Have?" list - make sure that if someone asks what you've written, you have an answer you're at least moderately comfortable with. Like, I've written a book of poetry, or, I write post-apocalyptic science fiction!

If you can't do that yet, put some time into it - research, talk to other authors, join online communities, READ some books within the genre you're aiming for (this is definitely a better first step, but sometimes what we've intended is different from the final product! There's no shame in revisiting your intentions and saying, Whoops! I've actually written a memoir!).

There. So, what have you got?

...

How'd that question hit ya? Good?

OK!

Moving on.

You have a book. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WITH IT?

While I was writing my first book - and long before that - I knew traditional publishing was the way to go for me.

But, guess what?

It wasn't.

If this venture has taught me anything, it's that I know nothing. And what I think I know is more complex than I ever imagined. Mountains of rejections and a healthy pile of bad decisions is a testament to my stubborn methodology, which is to learn the hard way. It was necessary for me, but it doesn't have to be for you.

Let's talk about traditional publishing. I'm sure you've heard it's an over-saturated market. You've probably also heard that getting an agent is as difficult as getting a publisher, these days. Harder, even, because many publishing houses won't even accept a query without having invited your agent to submit.

But I knew I had good stuff, so I was determined! I tried so hard, y'all, and I learned the right way to craft a query letter while I failed. I entered contests, sent my manuscripts, or parts of them, to countless contacts. I learned to write magical blurbs for my books, slowly learned to sell what I had, and even made some inroads with publishing opportunities, which I ultimately turned down.

Yep. After learning all that, the final lesson was this: traditional publishing was not for me.

Past-tense, because I'm always evaluating my opportunities. But let me finish.

Let's talk a little about self-publishing, or what I thought self-publishing was, then. I was scared! It all seemed an insurmountable barrier of tasks in planning and organization. This is NOT my forte. I write! I love to write, I love to learn how to write better, write kinder, write with the reader at the forefront of my mind.

Selling is another ballgame altogether. And without an agent or publisher, you are responsible for all tasks associated with selling your book, from formatting to editing to cover design, to print and delivery, to managing the entire promotional aspects, launch events, accounting, etc. etc. etc. Sure, you can delegate some of that, but you're still responsible for the delegation, the review, the hiring and paying, and the final product.

*Phew!*

And lemme tell ya, no matter how fast you can write (I'm pretty fast), all that stuff tends to take over at least some of the time you would've used for writing.

But I've still chosen it. Why?

- Because I'm stupid impatient, and doing it all yourself, even if you're meticulous about detail, is faster than having others do it for you.

- Because I'm particular. There's something daunting to me about letting someone else get their fingers into my art. That's my soul you're fiddling with, there! Which means that, although I have a professional editor, I chose her carefully. She's excellent because she pays very close attention to maintaining my voice throughout my work, no matter what. If she thinks a section needs to be reworked or deleted, she gives me insight, but she doesn't rewrite it. I love that. Some might not! But if you publish independently, you have control over who is doing what for you, how they're doing it, and when.

- Because I have a business background. It's a very practical degree, as are the skills that I've built while working in the jobs it got me. I know now that it's purpose isn't to find me a job so I can work for someone else; instead, I need to use what I learned to run my own business. It's not making me money yet - the initial investment when you're publishing on your own is...significant. I'm not going to lie. But I have faith this is the right path for me.

- Because in my situation, it works better for me. I have a chronic pain disease, and house-bound much of the time, which means I have time to devote to a writing career. It's the only career I have. I'm also a mom of four boy and a stepmom of two girls (yep, that's six kids ages four to twenty, folks), a wife, and need to take special care of myself. Even then, I am able to check in with my work often. And if you read the first point, you'll understand when I say that waiting for someone else to get shit done for me would be maddening right now. That said, once I'm established, I'm sure I'll want to hand the admin stuff (at least!) over to someone else, be it an agent, a publisher, or an assistant or team I hire to work directly for me. I have aspirations, kids.

- I don't need perfection. I need, first and foremost, compelling stories that are written well. I need characters people can relate to, intriguing plots and pleasurable reading experiences for everyone who is kind enough to open my books. I need one-on-one connections with my readers so I can manage feedback. I need an outlet that'll sell my books and distribute them, because I am not taking that on. I need fast. I need fans. I need someone who is willing to focus entirely on building me and my products up. And the only person I trust to do that right now is ME.

- Finally (and I'd be willing to talk about all of this further in-depth if anyone would like), I give you the ultimate determining factor in my situation: I was dismayed repeatedly when talking to publishers. The number of "partner" publishing houses and "vanity" publishers is staggering. Some of them work hard for your money, completing much of the tasks I've listed above at a fair price, and that's adequately valuable for many! But the other end of the spectrum sees money-hungry companies taking advantage of desperate creators, charging exorbitant fees and providing very little services (unless you cough up more $$). Don't get me wrong; there are still plenty of reputable publishing houses that do all of the things I grew up thinking they did: the advances, the marketing, the editing, the design and formatting. And then there are many companies that float somewhere in between those extremes,  offering some services if they like your book, but counting on you, the author, to do the majority of publicity and even some of the selling.

Remember: even stand-up businesses with author's needs in mind are businesses, and in today's world, it's getting harder and harder to partner with authors who will make them money with their craft. Did you know that before a publisher or even an agent takes you on these days, they want you to have a substantial following on social media? Even some marketing opportunities (expensive ones!) will reject your book if it doesn't have enough reviews.

Which brings me to my final word on this bit, for today: whether you're publishing traditionally or independently, you need to have a product that looks as good as the big publishers are kicking out, and BETTER than other independent writers in your genre. People are wary of buying from independents! You need to show them you're worth the risk.  How? Have an excellent product, first of all. There's absolutely NO WAY around that, and like I've already said, there's no shame in going back a step to revisit and revise. Is your book the best it can be? If you're squirming, you have work to do. After you're certain you've got the product, you need to start getting it out there. I'll get into that next time, when we talk about putting your feelers out and gaining followers.

:)

xo

Now Available: Rose's Ghost - The Trilogy

Get the complete collection in eBook or paperback now:

Saturday, February 22, 2020

Self-Publishing: Lessons From One Who is Still Learning

What I wouldn't have given for a step-by-step guide when I had my first finished book in my hand and not the slightest clue where to go next. So, a year later with twelve full-length manuscripts and seven launched books, many mistakes and starting to see some success (though it's still baby steps!), I'm going to do a series of articles to help others like me. Please keep in mind that I'm still learning as I go, and there are plenty of resources out there that'll give you help with the various parts of the picture!

And with that, I'll state LESSON #1: DO YOUR RESEARCH!
Google should be your best friend and constant companion. Make contacts wherever you can, join online groups and local meetings if you can. Learn, learn, learn, and don't ever get to the point where you feel you know it all...because YOU DON'T.

*shrug*

It's a hard truth for some, but a truth nonetheless.
In some future post, I'll paste a ton of links to help you out in the research category, but not today.
Today is for the first and most fundamental of questions:

QUESTION #1: WHAT DO I HAVE?
Before you consider traditional versus independent, single or series, eBook or paperback or both, you have to have a product. Here's a good checklist to have ticked off before you get too far ahead of yourself:

1) Why are you writing? Is it to enter a contest? Submit to a magazine? Tell your story? Tell someone else's story? Is it Fiction or Non-Fiction? Do you intend to make writing your career? Based on the answers to these questions, here's another: have you done your research? Do you understand what is required?

2) Have you considered your budget? Regardless of how you'll reach your goals, there will be costs. That I can guarantee. Even if you plan on doing everything yourself, you'll need software with which to make your cover, for example. I'll do an entire post on this in the future, as well, because I hadn't a clue what costs would need to be considered in the beginning. Good stuff to know. ;)

3) Have you chosen your genre or do you understand the genre of your project?

4) Do you know your market?

5) What stage are you at where writing is concerned? Ideas, skeleton/map, partial draft, full first draft, full manuscript, full manuscript with proper formatting, grammar and spelling, full, professionally edited (we'll talk more about that crucial element later, too!) manuscript?

6) Have you had anyone read part of your manuscript? Has anyone read it in its entirety? Have you considered their input and incorporated it?

7) Have you recruited beta readers? Received feedback and incorporated it?

8) Have you considered what you require in the realm of editing? How will you acquire the editor(s) you need?

9) Where are you at where your cover is concerned? Have you decided on outsourcing or attempting it on your own? Are you drawing a blank or do you have a fully-formed idea? Or have you gone ahead and mocked it up and just need to tweak? This one's got the potential to be very time consuming for several reasons, two of which are critical: 1) Your cover quality is directly attributable to sales and 2) If you're publishing independently, you want to be aware of cover requirements/formatting required by the various platforms offered.

10) Do you have a blurb? This is another key factor in the success of your launch. Some outsource, some don't. Whatever you decide, you want to end up with a succinct but intriguing set of words to draw people in and motivate them to spend. Ideally, you'll have a very short blurb and a longer, more detailed one for the back cover. Take some time on it, save it in a safe spot - trust me; you'll come back to it many times.

There! Certainly not exhaustive, but you get the idea. At the end of this exercise, the object is to know exactly what sort of end result you'll be working with before you consider moving forward in any way. For example, I write full-length Fictional Thrillers. I have one trilogy and several other books in various stages of completion. I currently publish independently with high quality standards including professional editing and covers, and I've got a growing distribution list through which I keep in touch with my readers. I publish both eBook and paperback versions of my books on Amazon, Ingram Spark( who distribute to independent sellers and libraries) and Draft 2 Digital (who distribute to pretty much ALL online sellers).

That's what I have. What about you?

Next time, I can go deeper into a couple of the questions above or we can move on to WHAT DO I WANT TO DO WITH IT? It's perhaps the most difficult question to answer when you're just starting out, because you probably don't understand all the options available. I like to do things the hard way (like writing a book in two weeks just to learn more about self-publishing on Amazon), so I think I can help at least a little. :)

Please let me know if this is useful!

xo

Monday, February 17, 2020

I Carry My Notebook Around

Words are always playing in my mind; finding ways to describe what I see or feel. So. I like to carry a notebook around to write in. I love putting words together. It's my art.
I remember wishing I could draw, so I could stop in my meanders and capture the perfection of a flower bud or autumn leaf, but now I know that for me, words capture beauty far better than any other medium.
Do you carry your medium around?

Sunday, January 26, 2020

Get Ready for Heather

January 31st, guys! "Heather's Grave will be launched in less than one week!
Still haven't read Rose? Lemme make it easier for ya. ;)


Goodreads Book Giveaway

Rose's Ghost by Theresa   Dale

Rose's Ghost

by Theresa Dale

Giveaway ends February 08, 2020.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway