Kelly's soon to be released book, Hawkists, will be coming out later this month. The print proof is due to arrive tomorrow.
In anticipation of a book signing event, I went online and found a small, realistic plush falcon, the closest real looking bird I could find to a hawk, nd ordered it as a prop for the event. It arrived yesterday and it realistic enough from a distance despite it being a plush toy (Hansa makes these remarkably realistic, expensive, plush toys).
I had it in the kitchen last night to clip the booklet attached to it off it's body. Riley Beans jumped up into his chair to see what I was doing. I showed him the falcon. Cats by nature are curious. He was not afraid of it, but rather he pushed his nose against its beak several times. Kelly snapped a picture of him 'kissing' the falcon with my cellphone. I set the toy bird on the table and he lay in his chair gazing up at it.
Riley has a new friend- the falcon.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Thursday, February 7, 2019
White Bishop Among the Pawns Available
White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third book in the Black King, White Queen series is now available on Amazon as both a Kindle ebook and a print book. Set approximately a year and a half after Black Knight, White Rook in which evil Black Warlock Wheaton Trowbridge was defeated, Romney and Ivy suddenly find themselves, their children, family members, and friends under constant attack by a faction of black arts practitioners close to home who want to destroy the alliance they have established between black arts practitioners and white arts practitioners and return to the old ways. Their journey began in Black King Takes White Queen when Ivy was only 20 years old, but it dates back centuries to the original Romney Sharpe and Ivy Greenaway who wed and tried to establish peace and tolerance between the two groups only to be brutally slain for their efforts. In White Bishop, the lessons they've learned in the not so distant past when fighting Romney's wicked witch sister (Black King) and then Ivy's sister Holly's evil husband (Black Knight) have united them more firmly, yet with violence being enacted against them again and again, and the threat of them all being killed hanging over their heads the tension and stress mounts as they struggle to find a way to survive and keep all that they've accomplished so far from being destroyed.
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Proofreading Done
Although I'm currently bogged down with a nasty head cold, I managed to finish the proofreading of White Bishop Among the Pawns. Oops- discovered two very glaring errors in the process, so now I have to pull the ebook and fix those after getting the print book corrected and approved.
I want to move on to other projects, and do a few more drawings, but right now I really don't feel like doing anything but crawling into bed with a mug of hot tea and a good book. I need to shake this virus by Saturday for Ghost Stories Live! I don't want to be coughing, sneezing and sniffling through For the Love of Pete! Kelly will be reading her short fiction piece Face in the Snow. Not sure what Russell will choose to read- he's kicking around a couple of ideas- classic stories.
I managed to revise the WhipCity Wordsmiths membership List and was stunned to find we are nearly 50 authors & writers strong. I never imagined it would take off like it has, but am happy that my fellow authors and writers are finding the group useful, comfortable, and entertaining to boot! We are a great group of talented people with no big ego's taking up room at the tables we gather around- we're all pretty down to earth people who love to write. I am beyond thrilled that Kelly and I have created something unique in our area that keeps growing as we add more authors. It doesn't matter that some are distant- we all stay connected now on the group's facebook page which has worked out well.
I want to move on to other projects, and do a few more drawings, but right now I really don't feel like doing anything but crawling into bed with a mug of hot tea and a good book. I need to shake this virus by Saturday for Ghost Stories Live! I don't want to be coughing, sneezing and sniffling through For the Love of Pete! Kelly will be reading her short fiction piece Face in the Snow. Not sure what Russell will choose to read- he's kicking around a couple of ideas- classic stories.
I managed to revise the WhipCity Wordsmiths membership List and was stunned to find we are nearly 50 authors & writers strong. I never imagined it would take off like it has, but am happy that my fellow authors and writers are finding the group useful, comfortable, and entertaining to boot! We are a great group of talented people with no big ego's taking up room at the tables we gather around- we're all pretty down to earth people who love to write. I am beyond thrilled that Kelly and I have created something unique in our area that keeps growing as we add more authors. It doesn't matter that some are distant- we all stay connected now on the group's facebook page which has worked out well.
Friday, February 1, 2019
Compensation for Authors
An author friend of mine wrote something to me tonight that has given me something to think about. He wrote that he has been invited to speak about his new book at a retirement community. They do not pay authors to make appearances. He's okay with that. However, they also do not allow authors to sell their books at their appearance. So, essentially, they have invited an author who has spent countless hours writing a book, proofreading and editing the book, and who has invested time and money into getting his book published to speak for free and entertain the residents, and not make a dime from any sales either. Okay, it's a little bit of free publicity for the author, very limited to that venue and those people. Plus the author is paying for his own gas to get there, and is donating (apparently) his time as well.
When an artist paints, you can stand behind them or to the side of them and watch them work. You can see the work of art being created, coming to life right before your eyes. The same goes for most artists in various mediums. You can see a sculptor chisel away at a block of marble and bring a human being, a creature, or whatever forth out of that block of stone. It emerges right before your eyes and you can instantly admire it. Hugh Nagger is a glass artist friend of mine. You can watch him draw a shape from his torch flame and a rod of glass and create something. He made me a camel and a blue glass heart. A musician is also an artist. He can compose a song and you can sit in the room and listen to the notes and chords played on the piano or guitar. If there are lyrics, you can hear them being sung.
But, most people would be bored to borderline insanity sitting in a room listening and watching an author type incessantly n a keyboard, or write in longhand in a notebook. However, art is being created just the same. Books do not get written overnight. Sometimes they can take years to be written. A good book can move you to tears, laughter, elation, or sometimes they can be a bitter disappointment. A good author can elicit a brad spectrum of emotions from a reader. The difference between writing and other art forms? Writing is entirely cerebral. It comes out of the authors head, gets printed on paper, and is silently read (in the majority of instances) by a reader, the words flowing into their brain and being processed. It's a curious little tenuous and temporary relationship, that between author and reader. It's one on one. The artistry of the book can only be seen as it is read. Anyone can pick it up and flip through the pages, but to appreciate it, to understand it, to comprehend what the author has created, a reader needs to read it and absorb it. Mull it over. Feel its impact. Accept it or reject it.
You can't hang a book on the wall and expect company to appreciate it. You can read a few lines aloud from it, but those excerpts are mere dabs of paint on a canvas that is rich and lush with imagery.
Other art forms offer the viewer and listener instant gratification. You can sit and study a work of art for as long as you like. Your thoughts can wander, but you can command your attention to return to the painting or drawing, sculpture or whatever and it's right there in front of you all in one place for your interpretation. Not so the book with its myriad pages. If you skim through the pages you miss things that are most likely vital and essential to the plot, the story, the sequencing of events. You can't see a book as a whole work until after you've finished reading it. You can talk about it, but you can't really show it to someone else. You can lend them the book, but then you have to wait for them to read it before you can discuss it together. Instantly gratifying, it is not.
A book takes time and effort to write, just like any other kind of work of art takes time and effort. Yet, whereas musicians, singers, and bands are paid to make appearances, and artists' works may catch the viewers eye triggering a desire to take the piece home...a book has only three shots at capturing a reader- the cover art, the back cover copy/blurb about the book, and the first line or two of chapter one. A book may be the best book ever written, but if it has a boring, uninspired cover eyes will skim right over it, dismissing it. If the back cover copy doesn't entice the reader to want to buy and read the book, then it has failed to do its job. If the first line is flat and dull and it doesn't hook the reader and reel them in...strike three! You're out!. It's hard work to nail two, never mind all three.
I guess what I'm saying here is that it isn't a piece of cake to write a book. It's a cerebral exercise with a lot of self discipline and sacrifice of personal time involved, especially if you work a regular job and have a family since writing historically doesn't pay unless your name is Stephen King, Nora Roberts, etc. Most of us self published authors spend disproportionately more creating and printing our books than we will ever earn trying to sell them. So, if you invite an author to an event to entertain other people...it would be thoughtful and considerate to offer a token compensation for their time. I was happy to be fed a marvelous dinner in exchange for a talk at the Women's Club once. And maybe it would be nice to allow the author to sell a few books while they're there...that's why they publish them after all.
When an artist paints, you can stand behind them or to the side of them and watch them work. You can see the work of art being created, coming to life right before your eyes. The same goes for most artists in various mediums. You can see a sculptor chisel away at a block of marble and bring a human being, a creature, or whatever forth out of that block of stone. It emerges right before your eyes and you can instantly admire it. Hugh Nagger is a glass artist friend of mine. You can watch him draw a shape from his torch flame and a rod of glass and create something. He made me a camel and a blue glass heart. A musician is also an artist. He can compose a song and you can sit in the room and listen to the notes and chords played on the piano or guitar. If there are lyrics, you can hear them being sung.
But, most people would be bored to borderline insanity sitting in a room listening and watching an author type incessantly n a keyboard, or write in longhand in a notebook. However, art is being created just the same. Books do not get written overnight. Sometimes they can take years to be written. A good book can move you to tears, laughter, elation, or sometimes they can be a bitter disappointment. A good author can elicit a brad spectrum of emotions from a reader. The difference between writing and other art forms? Writing is entirely cerebral. It comes out of the authors head, gets printed on paper, and is silently read (in the majority of instances) by a reader, the words flowing into their brain and being processed. It's a curious little tenuous and temporary relationship, that between author and reader. It's one on one. The artistry of the book can only be seen as it is read. Anyone can pick it up and flip through the pages, but to appreciate it, to understand it, to comprehend what the author has created, a reader needs to read it and absorb it. Mull it over. Feel its impact. Accept it or reject it.
You can't hang a book on the wall and expect company to appreciate it. You can read a few lines aloud from it, but those excerpts are mere dabs of paint on a canvas that is rich and lush with imagery.
Other art forms offer the viewer and listener instant gratification. You can sit and study a work of art for as long as you like. Your thoughts can wander, but you can command your attention to return to the painting or drawing, sculpture or whatever and it's right there in front of you all in one place for your interpretation. Not so the book with its myriad pages. If you skim through the pages you miss things that are most likely vital and essential to the plot, the story, the sequencing of events. You can't see a book as a whole work until after you've finished reading it. You can talk about it, but you can't really show it to someone else. You can lend them the book, but then you have to wait for them to read it before you can discuss it together. Instantly gratifying, it is not.
A book takes time and effort to write, just like any other kind of work of art takes time and effort. Yet, whereas musicians, singers, and bands are paid to make appearances, and artists' works may catch the viewers eye triggering a desire to take the piece home...a book has only three shots at capturing a reader- the cover art, the back cover copy/blurb about the book, and the first line or two of chapter one. A book may be the best book ever written, but if it has a boring, uninspired cover eyes will skim right over it, dismissing it. If the back cover copy doesn't entice the reader to want to buy and read the book, then it has failed to do its job. If the first line is flat and dull and it doesn't hook the reader and reel them in...strike three! You're out!. It's hard work to nail two, never mind all three.
I guess what I'm saying here is that it isn't a piece of cake to write a book. It's a cerebral exercise with a lot of self discipline and sacrifice of personal time involved, especially if you work a regular job and have a family since writing historically doesn't pay unless your name is Stephen King, Nora Roberts, etc. Most of us self published authors spend disproportionately more creating and printing our books than we will ever earn trying to sell them. So, if you invite an author to an event to entertain other people...it would be thoughtful and considerate to offer a token compensation for their time. I was happy to be fed a marvelous dinner in exchange for a talk at the Women's Club once. And maybe it would be nice to allow the author to sell a few books while they're there...that's why they publish them after all.
Wednesday, January 30, 2019
A Pretty Little Snow Squall
We had snow last night that amounted to 3-4 inches. This morning John got up early, went out, ran the snow blower and cleared the driveway. He also cleaned off all three cars- his, mine, and Kelly's. Kelly finished cleaning off her windows, jumped in her car and left for work. John finished cleaning off his car, came in to grab his backpack, and he left for work. I had breakfast, put on my boots and went out to shovel off the back deck, the back stairs, the back walkway, and the walkway to the driveway. I also shoveled the piles of snow that were like Jersey barriers marking where John & Kelly's cars had been parked. There were the same mounds of snow around my car. I cleaned all that up with the shovel, then cleaned off my windows the rest of the way.
I ran downtown for 10AM for a meeting and a second breakfast (the first one was small and quick before shoveling). I got home about 11:30AM. I finished cleaning up the moguls that marked where my car had been parked earlier, did some scraping here and there, but was pleased to find that the sunshine had dried the sidewalk and deck so it was all perfectly clear without a trace of snow or ice. Yes!
I went off to work pleased as anything that I had cleaned what was left up and we'd all be able to safely get into the house when we got home from work this evening.
Right. This is New England.
Around 5PM what they term a snow squall and I call a mini blizzard hit. Of course this was the evening I had to go out of my way by several miles to drive a co-worker who doesn't drive home. I hate driving in snow. I hate driving in driving snow and wind even more.
I also can't see that well in the dark due to headlight and road glare when the roads are wet. The roads were wet and slippery! Oh, joy. But, we chatted and kept it light while I tensely gripped the wheel and kept up with traffic while outside the windows the snow stuck to the glass and blew in endless sheets across the windshield. The wagger (the rear window windshield wiper) usually squeaks if I forget to turn it off after clearing the window- nary a chirp out of it as it merrily cleaned wet snow off the glass. Conditions were nasty to put it nicely. We also took the opportunity to employ the front seat warmers. Nice little luxury I seldom use, but after shoveling this morning I had a few twinges in my back that were relieved by the warmth. Nice. It was like cruising through rush hour traffic downtown in my own private little spa.
I delivered her safely to her door, then had to tackle the turnabout in her backyard where other tenants vehicles were parked and tree branches were down. It was sort of like an urban jungle, with snow.
The drive home was treacherous with near whiteout conditions due to strong gusting winds blowing the snow across the roads. I skidded on Franklin Street when the car ahead of me abruptly applied his brakes. The driver in front of him had made a sudden decision to veer into the package store (no doubt for a warming libation) without benefit of employing directional signals. You have to love those people who think they are the only ones on the road, or perhaps that you know through some process of precognition that they're going to be turning NOW!
When I reached East Mountain Road after venturing through the windswept white landscape formerly known as Union Street and traveling the sidewinder curves up Papermill Road I suddenly realized I'd left the mini blizzard behind. There was a hint of sparkly light snow in the air and a touch of wind. I made it home without any further difficulty- huzzah! John was just finishing up clearing the new snowfall and we trudged in through the garage skipping the once again snow covered back walkway, deck stairs, and deck to the kitchen door.
Maybe tomorrow the wind will have blown all this new snow away...one can only hope.
I ran downtown for 10AM for a meeting and a second breakfast (the first one was small and quick before shoveling). I got home about 11:30AM. I finished cleaning up the moguls that marked where my car had been parked earlier, did some scraping here and there, but was pleased to find that the sunshine had dried the sidewalk and deck so it was all perfectly clear without a trace of snow or ice. Yes!
I went off to work pleased as anything that I had cleaned what was left up and we'd all be able to safely get into the house when we got home from work this evening.
Right. This is New England.
Around 5PM what they term a snow squall and I call a mini blizzard hit. Of course this was the evening I had to go out of my way by several miles to drive a co-worker who doesn't drive home. I hate driving in snow. I hate driving in driving snow and wind even more.
I also can't see that well in the dark due to headlight and road glare when the roads are wet. The roads were wet and slippery! Oh, joy. But, we chatted and kept it light while I tensely gripped the wheel and kept up with traffic while outside the windows the snow stuck to the glass and blew in endless sheets across the windshield. The wagger (the rear window windshield wiper) usually squeaks if I forget to turn it off after clearing the window- nary a chirp out of it as it merrily cleaned wet snow off the glass. Conditions were nasty to put it nicely. We also took the opportunity to employ the front seat warmers. Nice little luxury I seldom use, but after shoveling this morning I had a few twinges in my back that were relieved by the warmth. Nice. It was like cruising through rush hour traffic downtown in my own private little spa.
I delivered her safely to her door, then had to tackle the turnabout in her backyard where other tenants vehicles were parked and tree branches were down. It was sort of like an urban jungle, with snow.
The drive home was treacherous with near whiteout conditions due to strong gusting winds blowing the snow across the roads. I skidded on Franklin Street when the car ahead of me abruptly applied his brakes. The driver in front of him had made a sudden decision to veer into the package store (no doubt for a warming libation) without benefit of employing directional signals. You have to love those people who think they are the only ones on the road, or perhaps that you know through some process of precognition that they're going to be turning NOW!
When I reached East Mountain Road after venturing through the windswept white landscape formerly known as Union Street and traveling the sidewinder curves up Papermill Road I suddenly realized I'd left the mini blizzard behind. There was a hint of sparkly light snow in the air and a touch of wind. I made it home without any further difficulty- huzzah! John was just finishing up clearing the new snowfall and we trudged in through the garage skipping the once again snow covered back walkway, deck stairs, and deck to the kitchen door.
Maybe tomorrow the wind will have blown all this new snow away...one can only hope.
Sunday, January 27, 2019
New Novel White Bishop Among the Pawns- Available Now for Kindle ereader
My new novel, White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third book in the Black King-White Queen series that began with the shortlisted (OZMA Award 2016) Black King Takes White Queen, and continued in Black Knight, White Rook, is now available as of 10PM tonight as a Kindle ebook on Amazon for $2.99 (US) The print book will be available perhaps as soon as February 1st- it depends on how fast the proof copy arrives for review. (Kelly's proof arrived in about 2 days for her new novel and she could approve it that same day.)
In this third book which basically traces white witch and druidess Ivy Greenaway's coming of age and maturing into her role as the chosen queen of powerful black arts warlock and King (after the sudden death of his father) Romney Sharpe, the still young couple (married just over five years and the parents of soon to be five year old Prince Ezra and 14-month old Princess Amaris) find themselves suddenly under attack repeatedly by a local faction of dark arts practitioners lead by the wicked Clude Rankin and Olivur Blood who disagree with the King and Queen's desire to unite all practitioners in a world fostering tolerance so that they may all live in peace. They want the return of the old ways and therefore have ruthlessly set about eliminating the royal family, their relatives, friends, and followers to gain control and more or less enslave all white arts practitioners. Romney and Ivy have learned through their ordeals that strength lies in unity. Although their hearts are being torn apart by the acts being committed against them, they understand they must not be divided, that they must hold their family, friends, and followers together or their fate will end as direly as that of the original Romney Sharpe and Ivy Greenaway centuries ago.
In this third book which basically traces white witch and druidess Ivy Greenaway's coming of age and maturing into her role as the chosen queen of powerful black arts warlock and King (after the sudden death of his father) Romney Sharpe, the still young couple (married just over five years and the parents of soon to be five year old Prince Ezra and 14-month old Princess Amaris) find themselves suddenly under attack repeatedly by a local faction of dark arts practitioners lead by the wicked Clude Rankin and Olivur Blood who disagree with the King and Queen's desire to unite all practitioners in a world fostering tolerance so that they may all live in peace. They want the return of the old ways and therefore have ruthlessly set about eliminating the royal family, their relatives, friends, and followers to gain control and more or less enslave all white arts practitioners. Romney and Ivy have learned through their ordeals that strength lies in unity. Although their hearts are being torn apart by the acts being committed against them, they understand they must not be divided, that they must hold their family, friends, and followers together or their fate will end as direly as that of the original Romney Sharpe and Ivy Greenaway centuries ago.
Friday, January 25, 2019
Writer's Wall Torn Down
Forget writer's block...I have been suffering Writer's Wall- a total blockade of inspiration. This occasionally happens, so while suffering through the sitting here staring at the blank wall in my brain, I channeled energy into art and created over 50 pen and ink drawings to amuse myself and, hopefully, delight others who view them. I've given something like a hundred (or more) of them away and sold a few.
I have also been having a rough time with tendinitis seemingly everywhere but primarily in my left thumb and left foot across the top of it. And then I was struck by a severe bout of gastritis and spent several days being little more than a ragdoll in a chair, unable to eat or drink much. Finally, both issues seem to be abating and I feel more like my usual old self.
This morning at breakfast I began writing a new ghost story for Valentine's Day. This one began with the phrase, For the Love of Pete. I don't know why that popped into my head at breakfast, but I had all but the last three lines written by the time I glanced at the clock and realized I'd be late for work if I didn't stop writing NOW. The last three lines were sort of in my head as I brushed my teeth and dashed out the door, but they had t wait until after dinner tonight to get written down.
While sick, I proofread Kelly's 2018 NaNo novel The Hawkists while she put the finishing touches on her 2017 NaNo Novel Empathic Touch and got it out into the marketplace first as a Kindle book and most recently as an Amazon print on demand book. When finished with her book, I finally tackled White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third and possibly final novel in the Black King White Queen series that began with Black King Takes White Queen, then continued in Black Knight, White Rook.
I guess I found there was plenty to do when stuck staring at the wall!
I have also been having a rough time with tendinitis seemingly everywhere but primarily in my left thumb and left foot across the top of it. And then I was struck by a severe bout of gastritis and spent several days being little more than a ragdoll in a chair, unable to eat or drink much. Finally, both issues seem to be abating and I feel more like my usual old self.
This morning at breakfast I began writing a new ghost story for Valentine's Day. This one began with the phrase, For the Love of Pete. I don't know why that popped into my head at breakfast, but I had all but the last three lines written by the time I glanced at the clock and realized I'd be late for work if I didn't stop writing NOW. The last three lines were sort of in my head as I brushed my teeth and dashed out the door, but they had t wait until after dinner tonight to get written down.
While sick, I proofread Kelly's 2018 NaNo novel The Hawkists while she put the finishing touches on her 2017 NaNo Novel Empathic Touch and got it out into the marketplace first as a Kindle book and most recently as an Amazon print on demand book. When finished with her book, I finally tackled White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third and possibly final novel in the Black King White Queen series that began with Black King Takes White Queen, then continued in Black Knight, White Rook.
I guess I found there was plenty to do when stuck staring at the wall!
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