Friday, December 17, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Nothing like a contest to start out the week.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
And here's a new recipe!
I thought this sounded good! Here is a turkey recipe that also includes the use of popcorn as a stuffing ingredient -- imagine that. When I found this recipe, I thought it was perfect for people like me, who just are not sure how to tell when turkey is thoroughly cooked, but not dried out. Give this a try.
8 - 15 lb. turkey
1 cup melted butter
1 cup stuffing (Pepperidge Farm is Good)
1 cup un-popped popcorn (ORVILLE REDENBACHER'S LOW FAT IS BEST)
Salt/pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Brush turkey well with melted butter, salt, and pepper.
Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn.
Place in baking pan making sure the neck end is toward the front of the oven, not the back.
After about 4 hours listen for the popping sounds.
When the turkey's ass blows the oven door open and the bird flies across
the room,.... it's done.
And, you thought I didn't know how to cook...
**okay, I'm assuming by now you know this is a joke...right?...I mean RIGHT??**
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Is this writer's community great or what!
My Logline for The Magic Withheld
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
- Nickelback’s Just To Get High
- Lady Gaga and Bad Romance
- Finger Eleven’s Paralyzer
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
SUCCESS!! You have it :)
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Gotta query that attracted an agent? Used it to nab a book contract that made you famous beyond all expectation?
Aimee L Salter has a request. Will you share the winning query so she can post it on her blog?
Excellent idea and I hope she has lots of examples soon.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
What brilliant way to start a crisp October day...with a contest.
(Hey I never claimed I was a poet)
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Harvest Moon; the full moon nearest the autumnal equinox.
It evokes an image of high-sided wagons pulled by chestnut-colored horses down a dry field of corn, a farmer and his boys walking along side, yanking the ears from the stalks and tossing them into the bed. The farmer’s chirrups to his horses carry in the cool air.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
When formatting a submission to an agent, I follow the just-in-case rule. I place my info on the first page and in the footer at the bottom of the other pages of my manuscript.
Top of the page - Last name/Name of manuscript
Bottom of the page - Full name Email Phone number
And the page numbers are situated top right.
In this way, the contact info is handy....Just in case the agent needs it.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
"We need a contest, yes? Of course we do!
Here at The Bookshelf Muse, it's all about becoming stronger writers together."
Excellent contest alert!
By word of Charity, this is one of the most generous sponsors I have seen, giving time and expertise.
Hike over there now!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Get into the sound tab of your computer.
Change the Ding, Ping, Ta Da, or whatever the darn thing plays when you get the frustrating email.
Choose something funny, happy, merry, whatever and when the email slams into the Inbox, it covers the GROAN sound.
Mine is John Wayne saying, “Don’t tell me it’s a fine morning or I’ll shoot you.”
Hey, it works for me. *snort, snicker*
Alas, the above does nothing for snail though.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
After completing my latest UF, The Magic Withheld, one of the characters reached out, grabbed my collar and said, "Not yet."
He is a moderately important figure, a seventeen-year-old kid with a combination of magic-envy and teenage angst. And there he was, waving and gesturing until my attention focused on him.
"Wait," he said, "I'm not done yet. Don't type those two words, 'the end', until I have my say."
And so I listened.
(I'll stop here for all my un-writerly friends to explain something. No, I don't hear voices - much. It is a writer's thing. The characters tend to speak to their creator, giving insight and plot intrigue. Writers understand my inner - and sometimes loud - conversation with dragons, ghosts, protags, and strong heroines.)
I liked his persistence and obvious anxiety when it appeared his story may be lost if I didn’t listen.
I listened. And planned. And wrote.
I didn’t expect a YA to slip into my mind when I began world building my magical world of the Imperium, Wilders, and Tener Unus but it appeared.
Thanks to a teenager who came to life for me and continues in The Magic Denied.
Friday, September 10, 2010
After my mother passed away, I wrote this as a answer to the age-old question, Why do these things happen?
The Guardian Angel
She had watched her Charge throughout her life, through childhood, and adult, in tears and joy.
She had been with her, Always.
She was her Guardian Angel and had adored her from the moment she became her Charge. She laughed with her, her loves, her hurts. She wiped away her tears and soothed her worries and distress.
Since she was a tiny babe in her mother's womb, she had been with her, easing her into life, and protecting her through all dangers, stretching out her hand and with a gentle stroke shielding her Charge from harm.
For she was with her, Always.
Smiling, standing unseen, the Guardian Angel took simple joy and pride in all the adventures. With fond indulgence, the Guardian Angel watched as her Charge laughed and danced her way through the exploits of toddler, childhood, adolescent, wife, mother, grandmother.
Now, her charge was a senior. Life was a slow dance, glorying in the marvels of family, the youthful antics of the little ones and side by side, the Guardian Angel watched with her Charge as her family grew.
And smiled and laughed as they marveled in the joys of this threshold of life.
But life became hard. Her Charge was tiring and the slow dance had become painful and wearying.
And through it all, the Guardian Angel watched, caring for her and protecting her, never ending, never sleeping.
For she was with her, Always.
Now she bit her lip, her soul hurting, as she stood unseen with her Charge’s family.
She stretched out her trembling hand once more.
A strong Presence fell gently about her, stopping her. Startled, she looked up into His Face, with His sad, grieving Eyes.
Wait, no. NO...NO!
Then the strong Arms held her, kept her close, and she hid her face, as she gasped with unbearable sorrow.
Grief overtook her. She sunk to the ground, falling away from Him. She buried her face in her arms as an overwhelming realization came to her. Her young girl, her gracious lady, her loving mother, and grandmother...oh, please, no...
A deep Voice said, "Do not grieve. Your labor of love has not ended. Your duties have only shifted to a new horizon, filled and soothed with an Everlasting Joy.
“Your Charge has not ended."
As He spoke, His loving Touch stroked away the terrible, razor-sharp wound in her heart.
Then, she heard a familiar sound.
The voice of her dear lady, wondering, questioning, confused. She looked up from her tear-wet arms. Her dear lady stood gazing, with wide eyes and quick breaths, questing for something recognizable.
"You must help her. You must guide her. For her new home is prepared and waiting with Me. Your duties have not ended, but have gone toward that which is the goal of all who will come to Me."
Now, her Charge's eyes were on her, still confused, but the strained lines in her face easing now. Her dear lady sighed and relaxed, as if an anchoring lifeline had appeared. The Guardian Angel smiled, stood, and held out her trembling hand, gasping with the unshed tears. Her dear lady looked into her eyes, and then looked at her outstretched hand. Slowly, her hand slipped into hers, and the Guardian Angel gently began to pull her dear lady away.
Away from the machines and monitors. Away from the hospital bed and the earthly life.
Once, her Charge stopped, resisting her pull and looked back at the ones they were leaving.
She waited with her, their hands tightening as her Charge’s loved ones were left behind, each bowed under the terrible pain of separation, all with their own Guardian Angel touching, soothing, embracing with gentle tears.
Her Charge watched and a single tear coursed down her cheek. With longing, she hesitated; her face saddened with all the sorrow of the world and then she looked down and away from her loved ones.
Then her Charge nodded at her Guardian Angel. She smiled through her own tears and arm in arm, they both passed with Him into the Light.
To be with Him.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Justus and Sable will probably continue to make themselves known, keeping me up at night with their personalities. And I welcome their voices but this part of their saga, their meeting and the first battle for their freedom from Tiarra, is done for now.
Now comes the hard part, getting someone to love their story as much as I do.
'Back In the Saddle Again.'
Friday, August 20, 2010
Musings of a Restless Mind: The "Astonishingly Brilliant Query Critique" Contest!
Friday, August 13, 2010
A shorthand version of Editing, The Hows & Whys of Crummy Writing
Informative and humorous.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
When I run on the treadmill, it pulls the best story lines and scenes from my strange inner world though trying to read what I have written after a 4mph run can be a challenge.
After verbally painting my characters into a corner, I watched Animal Planet with a bowl of chocolate ice cream as a companion, irritated with my protag’s foggy, alcoholic conversation with his ladylove.
I swear, as I watched a cheetah pulling down her hapless lunch, a scene presented itself and my protag yelled in my ear, “See. I was right to drink that last beer. So there.”
The story proceeded sans ice cream and TV. Strangely enough, it had nothing had to do with animals, killing and eating. Or chocolate. I am glad to report that was the only time Inspiration Struck during a nature show.
Now I am deep into editing and Inspiration Strikes differently.
When exasperation kills my enthusiasm with a closed and seemingly locked door, I leave the keyboard and do something ANYTHING else.
Feed the cats, drink a cuppa, pick blackberries, anything, except think about the MS. I work on critters for Miss Snark, Query Tracker and I clear my mind of my WIP. Pretend it doesn’t exist.
And suddenly, it is there, the key that opens that locked door. I think, well, why didn’t I see that before? The conversation, the storyline, the problem with grammar, etc. There it is, right in front of me.
Inspiration is sneaky but I don't mind the surprises.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Writing as a career.
Ok, what is a career, what does it mean. Yes, I have a mind and sometimes I almost use it, but this had me stumped.
I had to check the definition after all.
"A job or occupation regarded as long term."
I have a career.
I am a writer.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Or should I shrug and say, Oh, well, they are human, too.
When agents post nasty comments, sometimes poking fun at their prospective clients, it smacks of hubris or the god-complex of the famous. Or getting a little too big for their britches, as my grandma would say.
At this stage I should not be surprised, I suppose, to see the snide comments made by some agents on their blogs or in a workshop. We all post things, say things, that we wish to heaven we could take back, and as the proverb says, if you keep your mouth shut, you won't put your foot in it.
Discretion, in all things, I suppose is the better road, because once it is said, you can't unring that bell.
I will not name any particular agent. To do so would be to stir the pot and create more of what I feel is wrong-headed, namely a case of the nasties. And I prefer to assume they were immediately sorry and fervently wish they could take it all back.
One agent comes to mind, however, who seems polite and gentlemanly at all times. He doesn't represent my genre - I forgive this transgression - but to the best of my knowledge is always unfailingly kind in all postings, blogs, and workshops. No names here either, but his name begins with an 'N' and ends with a Bransford.
He seems like a nice guy all around - well, except for the genre preference. *Grin*
Monday, May 3, 2010
And I have/had so much to say.
I highly recommend the newest Jim Butcher novel, Changes. Excellent as always.
And Silver Borne by Patricia Briggs, ditto.
These series follow the lives of Harry Dresden, wizard PI and Mercy Thompson, a sometimes mechanic and all-the-time shape shifter. Both of these series have remained true to their beginnings and, unlike some fantasy, do not bog down under subplots that become cumbersome and confusing.
An example of the last is the Wheel of Time series by the late Robert Jordan. What started so promising and fresh became laden with who-cares stuff about minor characters. The descriptions, while colorful, are the sticky-clay that causes my wheels to spin and my fingers to flip to the last page of the books.
The best series leave me in mourning when I turn the last page, wishing for more.
Wheel of Time novels make me wish they would end.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sixteen months ago, I had a life-changing event.
Thankfully, not the kind where tragedy strikes or health conditions smack a person upside the head.
Nope. It was a good one; an event that made several differences in my life.
I lost seventy (yes, children, seven oh) pounds.
I began to exercise. I could hardly walk around the block, now I run 2 miles a day and lift weights.
I began to write.
The clue to my phenom makeover is in the title/subject of this posting.
Those who don’t know what I am talking about, ah, well. Never mind.
To those who recognize the clue I gave, let’s smile that knowing-grin together
Sunday, March 28, 2010
His epic fantasy books of The Codex Alera, the story of Tavi and his adventures, are also magnificent and I dearly hope he can continue this series as well.
Now, you may have noticed the reference to Horatio Hornblower in the title. These books, written by C. S. Forester beginning in the 1930s, were about a seaman who was courageous and firm, showing nothing except his strong will to his officers and sailors. But in his mind, he is craven, weak, and he second-guesses himself at every turn. That his bravery and cleverness is without par has nothing to do with his achievements, he thinks. It is all luck or because of the circumstances.
He feels he could always have done better if he had only tried harder.
Hornblower, Tavi, and Dresden; all are the same. Heroes in everyone’s mind but their own.
Thanks to Jim Butcher for these wonderful books.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
This is my tip for the day. Don't post on someone's blog - or your own, for that matter - when troubles seem insurmountable.
Excuses? Sure, I got 'em, but still, I should not have blogged or attempted to express my thoughts after returning from the vet. I had my sixteen-year-old dog put down and it was, shall we say, distressing.
Stupid me. I sat down at the computer and saw three rejects hit my email.
I should have shut the computer off and found some chocolate, but instead I checked several of my favorite blogs. And started tapping the keyboard. And hitting Publish.
Oh, well, again.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
I can see a break-out novel in the making.
Good luck to all.