tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69349137752617437472024-03-05T18:26:03.000-05:00All Day, All Night Writing DivasThe "Mariannes" and Friends of Romance/Other Genre Writing!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger116125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-31759027248729421662012-05-30T00:49:00.000-04:002012-05-30T00:49:24.891-04:00Farewell<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Wow, the last entry for a great blog, and it's all mine. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I think the pressure may be too much!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Art by Pickyme-she's fabulous!</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Seriously, this has been a great blog for me. Because of it, I made some really cool friends, and the memories we've made together have been awesome. I will treasure them forever.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Me and Marianne Stephens at RT 2011!</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I think memories are underrated. Some folks might think of them as pleasant daydreams. I consider them to be much more than that, more like artist Bill Keane's "Rememberies". They are remembrances of great moments in life that empower one to overcome some obstacle, whether it's a broken spirit or a path toward a goal. In the USA we just celebrated Memorial Day and the weekend was filled with remembrances of what was sacrificed by our servicemen and women in order to enjoy the life we do. Remembering their sacrifices and victories enables me to go to work everyday and serve their brethren at the VA I work for despite the hiring and pay freezes currently in place. Remembering lost loved ones compels me to live a good life. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dear Ol' Dad, serving in the Korean War.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The best part is that they are always available when you need them, you just lean over and pluck one out! When I'm freaking out, I think of cuddling a golden lab puppy, works every time!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Casey, definitely NOT a puppy here-lol!<br /></span></td></tr>
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<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> And recently, I lost a beloved cousin who fought most bravely against prostate cancer. His struggle and personal faith illuminated the hearts of everyone who knew him. I never met anyone who illustrated the love of God better than he did during his journey home. His memory will comfort me when it's my turn, and I'll know he'll be waiting for more hugs...</span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> A person without memories is surely a poor soul. They allow one to celebrate, to heal, to love and connect with others. They equip us to endure truly difficult times when all seems lost. What blessings they are, and always at the ready.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> Thank you to everyone associated with this blog. It has been a privilege to be a part of it. Now go forth and remember!</span></div>
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</div>Marianne Strnadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10248182479776022425noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-28463400016725517622012-05-22T09:33:00.000-04:002012-05-22T09:33:03.152-04:00A Special Memory<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May’s theme for <strong>All Day and All Night Writing Divas</strong> is memories. Happy memories are the best kind, so the first thing I thought of when deciding what to write was how ecstatic my husband and I were when we found out I was pregnant.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifM_fe8_0WezxeRQ8p4xTFAbKrbjnrrGsCPk8dHul3SNfTGKvMGpQR34yL1gsURR_ocWsOkObLdjN_zlkuEtXQ18bClwsgCVogc5eplxFT2gpTDMQfS3Mm8QCBa7lriWW7pb1Lsh2uCD4/s1600/word-baby-spelled-out-with-pacifiers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifM_fe8_0WezxeRQ8p4xTFAbKrbjnrrGsCPk8dHul3SNfTGKvMGpQR34yL1gsURR_ocWsOkObLdjN_zlkuEtXQ18bClwsgCVogc5eplxFT2gpTDMQfS3Mm8QCBa7lriWW7pb1Lsh2uCD4/s1600/word-baby-spelled-out-with-pacifiers.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes these little bundles of joy don’t come easily. That certainly was so in my case. For four years, that elusive stork kept avoiding my door, or chimney, or wherever it was that the stork liked to drop off his bundle. So for me, there were no pink or blue booties to knit, no dirty diapers to change, no joining the Momma Club. *Sigh* </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21qekLHBoKu4L9XE94vNDjKVUGudXyrSvJhu8UeXvjysey3WbEAQlZgMyhVx4CVcGoIXieiaoNIXtxBqCVyt3Jbh1Oi_VvUqgbEU88Z9AFfC15harvAkxWMxLuT4tufv4bOxdmmwBvUQ/s1600/storkie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21qekLHBoKu4L9XE94vNDjKVUGudXyrSvJhu8UeXvjysey3WbEAQlZgMyhVx4CVcGoIXieiaoNIXtxBqCVyt3Jbh1Oi_VvUqgbEU88Z9AFfC15harvAkxWMxLuT4tufv4bOxdmmwBvUQ/s1600/storkie.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But then one day--it wasn’t in May but in June--I had a funny feeling. What if... what if...? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn’t mention my suspicions to my hubby, and believe me, that took some doing! “What’s new, honey?” he would say.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Oh, nothing, dear.” Right. Any minute I was ready to explode from anticipation.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, after a week of pins and needles, I bought one of those over-the-counter tests. Whether the positive results were supposed to turn it pink or not, I don’t remember. I do remember I wasn’t supposed to drop the test tube. Well, at four in the morning I could hardly contain myself--I dropped the tube! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the kit had turned the right color. Yes! Double Yes!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I had a choice: should I awaken my sleeping husband and share the news? Or should I let the poor man get his rest?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No contest. I woke him up.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It took him a few minutes to figure out what I was saying--I was that excited. Then he and I hugged each other, dreaming about our new child, and praying that I really was pregnant.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Later in the day, I went to my doctor for a blood pregnancy test--to know for sure if our long wait was over. When I returned home to sit by the phone for the results, I found a single red rose on the kitchen table, along with a note written on the back of an envelope.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9Rtw1m6c_wx5Wfj6kZZoR5KJ0R-bRKCZaATl6PrMGXgfh9EnQlpHszQpYEs-gzifV2UAGiI_oRdG1DvlSIvz6-J6paxZB3rLiDexyJPx4R3rjFfUWZnfQoUGZNoIHtSP1YFGYJTvr-Q/s1600/Roselong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9Rtw1m6c_wx5Wfj6kZZoR5KJ0R-bRKCZaATl6PrMGXgfh9EnQlpHszQpYEs-gzifV2UAGiI_oRdG1DvlSIvz6-J6paxZB3rLiDexyJPx4R3rjFfUWZnfQoUGZNoIHtSP1YFGYJTvr-Q/s1600/Roselong.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve</span> saved the note, all these years, to help me remember the magic of that day. Here it is:</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29lrhiwYUiAagR9tGiqpbsPZvY3SJATprpDhuH3k9yrbXFYXnDTQQ8UoqigfJzSJnMElLf8PwVycMBtZmWlLo7UFh8w_h3tGoTHpe-XPpcfswoz5SqbD08tbtR0CKC-kcOP0UVVktqMo/s1600/works.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29lrhiwYUiAagR9tGiqpbsPZvY3SJATprpDhuH3k9yrbXFYXnDTQQ8UoqigfJzSJnMElLf8PwVycMBtZmWlLo7UFh8w_h3tGoTHpe-XPpcfswoz5SqbD08tbtR0CKC-kcOP0UVVktqMo/s1600/works.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Works cannot describe...?” I scratched my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, he meant to say “words.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">When my hubby came home, I showed him the note and we both got a big kick out of it. Ever since then, whenever one of us gets really excited, we say, “Works cannot describe...!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">P.S. the blood test came back positive and in January I gave birth to our beautiful miracle baby. She’s now a lovely young lady and we bless the day she came into our lives!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMFVXUjANRvmD19SUDN8Ab2JbHWUbkJu_W4I-U1G-ysMswVo-6KvaHxofv8luxm8KVnV3IsuPeP6QJYRJ1e2Gs6d_cxCwf62e0dhT-aK81DgNgwN1sE3ssFdr4hhFfAI-Dj-4wiRJMQw/s1600/Baby+Stace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMFVXUjANRvmD19SUDN8Ab2JbHWUbkJu_W4I-U1G-ysMswVo-6KvaHxofv8luxm8KVnV3IsuPeP6QJYRJ1e2Gs6d_cxCwf62e0dhT-aK81DgNgwN1sE3ssFdr4hhFfAI-Dj-4wiRJMQw/s200/Baby+Stace.jpg" width="172" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Hope you enjoyed my May memory!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial;"><strong>Susanne</strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Susanne Marie Knight </span><a href="http://www.susanneknight.com/"><span style="color: #223344; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.susanneknight.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <br />Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist! <br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <br /><strong><span style="color: red;">Now Available:</span></strong> The Minx Tobin Mystery Series: <strong>The Embezzled Envelope</strong>--Case Six (Desert Breeze Publishing) <br /><em>An old embezzlement case takes on a new twist: murder. When Minx tries to clear her good friend’s name, she gets burned... literally.</em></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><span style="color: red;">Now Available:</span></strong> <strong>A Karmic Connection</strong> (Amazon.com)<br /><em>Elizabeth and Paul went their separate ways twenty years ago. When their paths cross again, will they heed the psychic signs that they are meant to be together?</em></span> </span></span></div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-45974088064961102692012-05-18T08:42:00.000-04:002012-05-18T08:42:16.835-04:00EuphemismsAs a recovering illiterate (once illiterate, you always feel a semblance of literacy) I have found words in all forms to be beautiful. There is beauty in the word itself, in the formation of sentences and words put together to create stories, articles, and letters. <br>
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My favorite set of words (today) is euphemisms. It's just down right fun to think about how words are used in different forms and still mean the same things. Let's say you want to convey something but you want to say it in a way that won't seem harsh or offensive. Try a euphemism. <br>
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Here are a few words and their alternates. <br>
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Dead -- deceased <br>
Disabled -- challenged<br>
Kill -- terminate <br>
Crime -- antisocial behavior <br>
Lie -- fabrication <br>
Poor -- underprivileged <br>
Theft -- misappropriation of funds <br>
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Do you agree that using a <b><i>faux</i></b> is better than using <b><i>imitation</i></b>? What about <b><i>encore viewing </i></b>instead of <b><i>rerun</i></b>? Yep, those have been used. <br>
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I just touched on a few that are out there. Different words are often used to make a person feel better but really mean the same thing no matter how much you try to pretty it up? Aren't euphemisms fun? How often do you use them in your everyday dealings? In writing? <br>
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What other euphemisms can you think of? <br>
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DeAnn<br>
http://awritersguidetowords.comDeAnnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10043754185221962123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-64073760482964744112012-05-15T01:00:00.000-04:002012-05-15T01:00:04.890-04:00Bridging the Gap Between the Beginnings<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">There's a big, wide gap between where the story begins and where the characters began. Memories form the bridge that connects the story to the characters, the characters to the story -- and the reader to both. Very little else can build a book or kill it as quickly as the way the writer builds that bridge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">IMHO, one of the worst ways to build the bridge is by starting a book with a "prologue." It has all the appeal of watching the second in a movie series with an oh-so-helpful someone who watched the first part. You know that person, right? She's the one who'll lean over in the middle of a crucial scene to explain - "See, in Part 1 they first met on a bridge where she saved him by talking him out of jumping." Grrr. Right? Just - grrr. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Okay, all you prologue fanatics (I hear there's a clique of them hiding in a bunker somewhere in the Midwest). They'll tell you that a prologue is more like your perky little pal leaning over to give you the low-down during the previews. I'll give 'em that but really - is it any better? Where it's the sequel to a book or the sequel to a movie, I want to experience it for myself. I don't want to start Part 2 armed with my friend's opinion of Part 1. I don't even want to start Part 2 armed with the author's opinion of Part 1 - and there, in a nutshell (or a duck's egg) is the problem with prologues. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Prologues can convince a reader to close a book before they reach Chapter 1. There's another type of bridge that works a little better than prologues - it lets a reader get into the first couple of chapters before flooding the bridge and washing the reader -and her interest - far, far away. Yes, it's the infamous info-dump. Usually, it'll occur after a reader has gotten a wee ways into the story. She's met the hero and the heroine and often they've met each other. She's in the story and going with the flow when suddenly, the author interjects herself into the story. The author will tell the reader that the couple met before when they were 3 and 6 or she'll explain that the hero is the best friend of the heroine's middle brother and used to come home with her brother for all school holidays. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And the author loses the reader who'd just been getting swept up in the story - cheering for the heroine and hissing at the hero. By the time the reader digs her way out of the dump, the mood's been broken. And we all know that a broken mood is a mighty hard thing to rebuild. So the trick is to feed the reader the information in a way that it doesn't break the mood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In two of my books I did this with a doorknob. Think about it - a hand on a doorknob is chock full of dramatic potential. In </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#brotherly">Brotherly Love</a> </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">a trio of brothers is at their ranch awaiting the arrival from finishing school of their little sister (by choice, but not by blood). The eldest brother is at the window watching as the carriage arrives and his little sister steps down. He reacts to her in a way that is far from brotherly. When she makes her to the porch and out of sight of the window, the older brother watches the door, recalling the little orphan he'd helped raise and wondering how she'd turned into this woman who called to the lover instead of the brother. He watches the knob emotions divided between the brother who knows he's not ready to treat this woman like a sister and the lover who is hard and taut and more than ready to treat this woman to every sensual trick he knows. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRTyPXJjSKVPTgunX0yObJ7L-zysAAOiYPCHoEbBeZVJLjENJ3sHX79uXEylYqEHrLsBAQjxY3_1HoLcXuIjqFzkwGzpNvAtkY-SfdUZlzR7rmBBMFCIor45HW6WwnSiATNyibWD9BJpw/s1600/sixth_sense_cover_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRTyPXJjSKVPTgunX0yObJ7L-zysAAOiYPCHoEbBeZVJLjENJ3sHX79uXEylYqEHrLsBAQjxY3_1HoLcXuIjqFzkwGzpNvAtkY-SfdUZlzR7rmBBMFCIor45HW6WwnSiATNyibWD9BJpw/s200/sixth_sense_cover_lg.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">In </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#sixth">A Sixth Sense of Forever</a> </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">the book opens with the hero chatting with a group of brothers who were his best friends growing up. They floor him by asking him to give their little sister - a girl he's known since she was a toddler - sex lessons. After a vigorous debate, he tells them he doesn't know if it's possible because she'd have to arouse him as a man in order for him to teach her such tender lessons. The hero heads up to her room where he knows she's taking a bath because that's the perfect test of whether she can arouse him. But at the door, with his hand on the knob, he hesitates, and has to acknowledge that he's been lying to himself. He's been running from his feelings for this girl since she was 16 because a family curse means that he can never marry a woman he loves. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In both of the above books, I inserted backstory to add to the mood I was building so that it didn't dump a bunch of information that would wash the reader out of the story. Another way to do this is by making the backstory part of the present tale. In </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#faerie">A Faerie Fated Forever</a> </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">the reader learns of the faerie curse because the hero's clansmen are taunting him over the poorly hidden dowdy lass in a sack whose crush on the hero is locally infamous. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The past makes us who we are and explains what we've become. It's no different for heroes and heroines in a romance novel. But a story has to start somewhere and picking that spot is part of an author's job. Creators who get it very, very right can do such a good job at inserting flashbacks or backstory that readers or viewers are sorry the story didn't start somewhere else. I find that to be true on Shonda Rhimes' "Scandal." Last week's episode flashed back to the start of the affair between then-Governor Fitz and Olivia. It was during the campaign. Fitz was unhappily married to a wife having an affair, but he wasn't yet the Prez. HELLO - does that not remind anyone else of Mer/Der on "Grey's Anatomy"? I've always thought that the way we were introduced to Mer/Der explains a lot about how well they clicked for fans. And I think Fitz and Olivia would click the same way if "Scandal" pulled an about face next season and went back to the beginning. Let Shonda come on in Epi 1, explain, and let 'er rip. When the great Ms. Rhimes tweeted the good news about the show being renewed, I replied and asked her why she hadn't started the show back there - in that sweet spot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Well, Shonda didn't answer my tweet but if she had, I'm guessing that she'd give the same answer any author would give to that question. The answer is - that's where the story started for the writer. I know that, but since I'm "just a fan" of Ms. Rhimes' work, I couldn't help putting my two cents in. But, like I said, the flashback epi of "Scandal" proved just how good Ms. Rhimes and her team of writers is at crafting a story. Fitting in backstory is a real test of the quality of an author's work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">A story must start somewhere but it will never move from that point unless the characters in the tale whisper to the hearts of readers. A reader will never care for a character who remains a stranger. Memories are the key to letting readers understand the characters, but it is a key that must be wielded carefully. Too heavy or too light a hand risks presenting a character in a false light. The only thing more likely to lose a reader than a character who remains a stranger is one a reader later realizes that she misunderstands. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">When it's done right, memories or backstory will give a reader a clearer insight and understanding of events about to unfold in the tale. "To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward." ~Margaret Fairless Barber, </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Roadmender</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">NOW IT'S YOUR TURN - Quack back about your thoughts on backstory, memories, Shonda Rhimes' work, Grey's Anatomy, Scandal or anything you want to Quack about. Just quack loud and quack proud and remember - insanity is more than valued - It's encouraged!</span></div>
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<strong>Mary Anne Graham</strong><br />
<a href="http://www.quackingalone.com/">Quacking Alone Romances</a><br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Picture credits:</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Bridge gap</span><br />
<a href="http://theosophical.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/bridge-the-gap-failed.jpg?w=300&h=222"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://theosophical.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/bridge-the-gap-failed.jpg?w=300&h=222</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Close-up duck</span><br />
<a href="http://www.gapphotos.com/images/WebPreview/0104/0104328.jpg"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.gapphotos.com/images/WebPreview/0104/0104328.jpg</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">All other pictures from </span><br />
<a href="http://www.quackingalone.com/">Quacking Alone Romances</a><br />
<br />Mary Anne Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18002430141652464640noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-950814510663657642012-05-12T00:59:00.001-04:002012-05-12T00:59:20.002-04:00Memories: Ours and Our Characters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Memories. Good ones. Bad ones. We tend to push aside the ones we don't want to remember, but they have a nasty habit of surfacing at times.<br />
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Good ones, sometimes embellished with our creative perception, pop up more often and make us happy. Savor the good ones; know the bad ones but don't let them taint your life.<br />
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Our characters have memories...it's called backstory. Every hero and heroine has things in their past, good and bad, that they deal with. Maybe it's a failed romance, bad business deal, death of a loved one...all things mimicking "real life" events that happen to everyone. The bad memories are a catalyst for better motivation for character change and growth.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1aDKjjCYiB-4M0WF6xKgQPkhj5nLvSMXKnSPbasvJRc2gWj5T0AWqL5XYY7SeLdMVBfIGEO7aN8aujRYJYraexYTfu-oROWyQzqMQPPKCoL1cn3cRmCgdCaLQfA7ITQoBkNPbQe_TdEo/s1600/ibookperson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1aDKjjCYiB-4M0WF6xKgQPkhj5nLvSMXKnSPbasvJRc2gWj5T0AWqL5XYY7SeLdMVBfIGEO7aN8aujRYJYraexYTfu-oROWyQzqMQPPKCoL1cn3cRmCgdCaLQfA7ITQoBkNPbQe_TdEo/s320/ibookperson.jpg" width="198" /></a><br />
In <b style="color: blue;">Gone to the Dogs</b>, Katie has to deal with the memory of her boyfriend's betrayal. Determined to move on with her life, she remembers his actions, and uses her self-control to push herself forward and change her life.<br />
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In <b style="color: blue;">Street of Dreams</b>, Eileen recalls how her police department still treats women as "unequal" partners in her detective division. She uses her instincts to prove her worth, and strives through the book to show her skill qualities.<br />
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I could go on with all of my other books, but you get the idea. And, the heroes have their share of bad memories to overcome. These are fiction; I've created memories for my heroes and heroines.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JZeEFuaAUtuDQCxMQwu8HYeyYeroDPDA-2mz9SOnZJkMh2utskEVxJ0k6lmTHMHsU1og54bh_qSjWZhaDFPx_Qj5EtFqgeaDTbuB3-l_sggnWoWZt74i3fzWIg8BX5lIZhwBg5mguG29/s1600/BuhSnarf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JZeEFuaAUtuDQCxMQwu8HYeyYeroDPDA-2mz9SOnZJkMh2utskEVxJ0k6lmTHMHsU1og54bh_qSjWZhaDFPx_Qj5EtFqgeaDTbuB3-l_sggnWoWZt74i3fzWIg8BX5lIZhwBg5mguG29/s200/BuhSnarf.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
In my nonfiction book, <b style="color: blue;">Guilty Survivor - Memoirs of Tamerla Kendall</b>, I had no part in creating memories. What I ghostwrote are Tamera's memories of her life living in a war zone. There are good memories for her; but the book focuses on her hardships, and how she managed to survive. Her courage and determination to life through a was she didn't want enabled her to become the motivated-to-succeed woman she is today.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mariannestephens.net/"><b>http://www.mariannestephens.net</b></a><br />
Photos: Flickr: ibookperson, BuhSnarf, and 'Playingwithbrushes' photostreams<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-47753513019625383172012-05-10T00:00:00.000-04:002012-08-26T09:24:17.136-04:00Triggering MemoriesMay is a month for passages, for finishing and beginning stages of life's journeys. Pictures bring back the memories that make me smile back on events both big and small--all of which merge into a collage of what was, what is and what is yet to come. If I may, I'll share a few memories inspired by some photos I plucked at random from my personal collection.<br />
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Flowers bloom, only to fade and come back the following year, evoking memories of the Mother's Day when this orchid arrived from a daughter who couldn't be with me for the first time in her life. I think about the end of her childhood and beginnings of a friendship I'm reminded of each time the plant breaks out in vibrant color. Each blossom takes me back in time to when she took her first step...went off to the first day of kindergarten...graduated from high school...and married the love of her life one bright, spring afternoon far away from home.<br />
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I remember going last year to see my middle son, noticing how he's grown up and changed--but yet he's kept the wonderful sense of humor and love for animals that made me so proud when he was a little boy. Life goes on, but some things never change. The wooden owl reminds me of a day trip we took west of Denver, where a carver turned simple wood posts into fanciful pieces of art, and that brings to mind the lovely flowers and breathtaking scenery he showed me during my stay. <br />
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These pictures bring back other memories, of Tex-Mex dinners and frozen margaritas, the best lox and bagels I ever ate at a Kosher deli that was featured in Drive Ins, Diners and Dives...and best of all, the fun of meeting my son's partner's family and their circle of good friends at a Sunday brunch complete with an incredible array of food and drink. I've never enjoyed such fantastic tasting mimosas as the ones his partner made for us that day!<br />
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On the way home I detoured by my youngest son's and got to hold his then-three month old baby, who reminded me so much of his daddy at that age. The shot of the three metal pigs--daddy, mommy and baby, taken outside their apartment--brings bittersweet memories of the time when we thought their future promised a lifetime of togetherness. Though my son and his love split up, they've kept their little one in mind and promised that even though they're not together, their little boy will always have both of them, no matter what they have to do to accomplish it. I laugh through my tears, because while not all the memories are happy, they remind me of beginnings and endings, the joy and sadness I'm glad to share with the ones I love. <br />
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Thanks for letting me share a few of my memories. Whether happy or sad, they make up the fabric of my life, my family and my friends, and thus they're all precious. The worst fate I can imagine is losing my memory--I pray that never happens to me, to you or to any of us.<br />
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I hope you'll share some of your fondest memories with me. I'll be choosing my favorite one of your comments in June and asking the winner to choose one of my nearly 100 books they'd like to read. I'll post the winner's name on this blog as a comment.<br />
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Ann Jacobs<br />
<a href="http://annjacobs.net/">http://annjacobs.net</a><br />
<a href="http://facebook.com/AnnJacobsAuthor">http://facebook.com/AnnJacobsAuthor</a><br />
Watch for MOUNTAIN HEAT, a Blush romance coming soon from Ellora's CaveAnn Jacobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18176748768155458312noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-91249361560223365242012-05-06T05:28:00.000-04:002012-05-06T05:28:33.833-04:00Truth Really is Stranger Than FictionSeveral times in the past when writing stories, I drew on my own memories... and then was told by several members of my crit group that they couldn't believe those things would happen. <br />
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In <a href="http://www.mariannearkins.com/TheChristmasCurse.htm">The Christmas Curse</a>, my heroine has terrible memories of Christmas -- one of them is when she got a training bra in her Christmas stocking: <br />
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<em>Thankfully, this wasn't as embarrassing as her eleventh Christmas, when Santa left a size 28AA training bra and a trial-sized box of Kotex in her stocking—a lovely tale that made the rounds at school, thanks to the big mouths of her two older brothers, and resulted in much bra strap snapping upon her return from vacation. She probably still had the bruises on her back to prove it.</em></blockquote>
Yes... yes that really did happen to me. Though I only had one older brother at home.<br />
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And in <a href="http://www.mariannearkins.com/PregnancyCravings.htm">Pregnancy Cravings</a>, I used the memory of the time when I was pregnant myself and DYING for salt and vinegar chips (taking an entire lunch period to find them ... none of the stores by my job carried them as this was when they had first come out).<br />
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<i>Her obsession started innocently enough. In desperation, and unable to find the specific item she needed at the last three stores, Patrice ran to the counter of a little mom-and- pop grocery. A quick glance at her watch told her she'd been gone for nearly an hour. How was that possible?<br /><br />"Do you have salt and vinegar kettle cooked chips?" She directed the question to the flannel-clad back of the clerk at the register.</i></blockquote>
Both memories were actually the impetus for the idea for the entire story of each.<br />
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I like to hope, when bad things happen, some day I'll pull out that memory and use it for good ... in a story.<br />
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What are some memories you have that you think would make great story starters?<br />
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You can find Marianne Arkins at her <a href="http://www.mariannearkins.com/">website</a> and <a href="http://www.reading-writing.blogspot.com/">blog</a>.<br />
<br />Marianne Arkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513628861883011377noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-23435419483089583682012-05-03T12:08:00.002-04:002012-05-03T12:08:37.117-04:00Cute MemoriesThe fibromyalgia is not happy today so I'll keep my post short and sweet... Enjoy.<br />
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<a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2010/02/25/funny-pictures-cat-is-this-the-face/?utm_source=embed&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=sharewidget"><img alt="Funny Pictures of Cats With Captions" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-239848" height="502" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/funny-pictures-cat-is-this-the-face.jpg" title="funny-pictures-cat-is-this-the-face" width="500" /></a><br />
see more <a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/?utm_source=embed&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=sharewidget">Lolcats and funny pictures</a>, and check out our <a href="http://memebase.com/category/socially-awkward-penguin/">Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!</a>Mary Caelstohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09381981053843929847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-21170031869081001972012-05-01T02:38:00.000-04:002012-05-01T02:38:32.395-04:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Memories sweet and sad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This month is all about memories. In the past month mine
were kicked into gear when one member of my family discovered she was sick.
Thinking about losing her set my mine to memories of all the times I’ve shared
with her in my life. My brother’s first baby, and she was so beautiful. Oh,
yes, I know you’re thinking prejudice, family members always think a baby is
beautiful. She truly was then as now with features as fine as a sculptured
porcelain doll so much like her mother’s. She hated me. No kisses or hugs for
her auntie until her sister came along a few years later. Maybe it was just
that when sister came, she was at an age to reach out to those outside her
nucleus family, but I had never had a baby reject me as strongly as she did, a
sign of strength that she’s needed this past month. As a toddler, auntie got to
babysit. When her mother died, I had the sad responsibility of telling her her
mommy would never be coming back. She drew away from me again then. I think it
was the association of never seeing mommy and the one who told her. Still through
the years I was a part time surrogate mommy for her and her sisters whenever I
could be, helping my brother as much as possible in raising three small
daughters alone. I remember one shopping trip for school clothes, each one of
them looking for something different in what they wanted. One day on a shopping
trip of my own, I caught her ditching school. Ah, the look on her face when she
realized she was busted. I never told her dad. Dads find out those kind of
things without aunts being snitches. When she announced she was getting
married, at the justice of the peace’s, the family threw a fit. We all wanted
her to have a wedding she’d remembered. I did her flowers, and the wedding was
held up when our son’s daughter decided to make that the day to enter into the
world. We stayed as long as we could for the birth before we raced to the
wedding to deliver the flowers, the bouquet for the beautiful bride. It was,
though starting late, a lovely wedding. She reminded me so much of her mother
on her wedding day. I’ve had the joy of sharing her three beautiful daughters,
babysitting them when mommy and daddy took some time for themselves. When the
news came of her illness we were all shocked and frightened. We’ve received
good news in that even though it is cancer, it is of a type that responses well
to treatment. We’ve got a while yet before we’ll know for certain she’ll be
free of it, but if strength and courage make the difference, supported by love
from all of those around her, she’ll beat it as she has all other challenges in
her life. I’ve never told her, and I do want to for all to read, how very proud
we are of her and how much having her in our lives has brought us joy. Love
you, Renee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">larion aka larriane wills, two names one author, thousands of stories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://www.larriane.com/">http://www.larriane.com</a></span></div>
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<br /></div>Larion aka Larriane Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044089414209140043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-24178650471515024062012-04-30T23:56:00.002-04:002012-04-30T23:56:58.992-04:00Beholding Constant Beauty<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I recently drove to a professional symposium from my home in western Washington state to an area called Tri-cities in central Washington. In order to do this, I had to drive four hours across some of the most beautiful country you have ever seen. Thank God for books on tape-or rather-books on iPod!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The drive called for a journey from the Seattle area where the hills meet Puget Sound to crossing the majesty of the Cascade range. There, lovely mountain vistas abound with high altitude lakes and their soft caresses of low-hanging mists. Once past the mountain passes, the topography changes. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Soft rolling hills appear, looking as if God Himself had chiseled their forms and then pulled soft green felt tightly around them. Fertile valleys below swell with vineyards and fruit orchards in their sunshine. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The drive was seriously zen, and I was grateful for each mile along my way. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> When I had finally reached my hotel's registration desk in the town of Kennewick, I was told that I had been upgraded to the executive suite. SWEET! Although my travels ended when I stepped out of my car, the beauty of the day persisted. Even then, when I opened the door to my room, this is what greeted me:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">There were flowers, a plate of HUGE chocolate-covered strawberries, a bottle of wine, and a hand-written personal note from the hotel. Wow, I was totally blown away! Not only had Beauty persisted, but it took residence right there in my room.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The one thing that worried me the most about my trip was chairing the upcoming board meeting for the first time as state president. I didn't feel prepared, and I dreaded appearing stupid. And wouldn't you know, it was all for nothing. The board and general membership put me at ease as they always do, and helped me every inch along the way. <i>This</i> is the beauty in ordinary things to me. <i>They</i> were my plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I know that I've mentioned this previously, but I live with a couple of very annoying chronic autoimmune conditions. Against my will, pain has become a constant companion. However, the discomfort I live with is a very sage teacher in her own right. Where others are bored with the dull repetition of life, I am grateful for every "normal" moment I have when I'm not in pain. To me, this is a huge gift. As a result, I believe I see more beauty in a day than most do in a week. What our culture - or heck, the world - considers beautiful is completely laughable to me in many cases. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> As a medical technologist, I see beauty at the "organismic" level. When I peer into the microscope I see the beauty in nature, such as the uniformity of normal red blood cells,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the alternating barrel pattern in a fungal arthrospore, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the military-straight lineup of a columnar epithelial cell layer in the bladder, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the beautiful array of onion cells appearing as fenestrations in a layer of its skin,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">or in nature at large, the flawless symmetry of a nautilus in cross-section.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> These are prime examples of the beauty in ordinary things to me. All of them keep me from taking life for granted, and I give thanks for them. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> I hope that you will always see the unsung beauty in life, and also give thanks for it. Thank <i>you</i> for sharing my journey.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Marianne Strnadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10248182479776022425noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-78790685021325183512012-04-26T00:00:00.000-04:002012-04-26T01:21:27.485-04:00Beauty is truth...In the spring of 1819, English Romantic Poet, John Keats wrote his famous, <i>Ode to a Grecian Urn</i>. While the poem is considered one of Keats' lesser works, his line <i>'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' - that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know</i>, has become as famous as his line, <i>'A thing of beauty is a joy forever'.</i><br />
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I first read Keats in college, but I have to say, his 'Ode' still leaves me thinking. If beauty is truth, yet we all agree beauty is subjective, then how can its truth be true? Doesn't the very meaning of subjective hold that the idea of beauty would then change from perspective to perspective and person to person? <br />
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Absolutely.<br />
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Without revisiting Philosophy 101 any further, (my professors at Fordham University would be so proud), I would have to agree...believing that Keats', <i>Beauty is truth, truth beauty</i>, is merely reminding us that whatever we hold beautiful is own own personal truth, and regardless of another's opinion, it's all we need in this world. <br />
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As a writer, I have looked to Keats' quote for reassurance and peace of mind many times. Especially when someone else's opinion of "beauty and truth" has bashed my own in a review. It somewhat lessens the sting, comforting in the knowledge that even centuries ago, it was still all about subjective perspectives.<br />
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What if we could hold this personal truth of what we value as beautiful close to our hearts, practice it in our daily lives? Imagine the tidal wave of self-confidence that would follow. How much our self-esteem would blossom, and by our example, that of our children. <br />
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What if?<br />
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<i>What</i> and <i>If</i> are the two most important words in the English language when used together. They have the power to inspire dreams, and through those dreams affect great things. <i>Beauty is truth, truth beauty</i> is by far, for me, more than just an abstract notion. It's almost a battle cry. A call to arms defending that which nature itself deemed beautiful. Each and every one of us.<br />
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Beauty is truth, truth beauty? You bet. So find yours, and own it...<br />
Whatever that truth may be.<br />
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Marianne MoreaMarianne Moreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874251904452596285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-3005323851736916492012-04-22T08:35:00.000-04:002012-04-22T08:35:45.089-04:00Beauty And Romance Writing With A Twist!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">BEAUTY is All Day and All Night Writing Divas theme for April. My contribution will be about the goddess of Beauty, Aphrodite (Greek) or Venus (Roman). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I thought I’d look over my books to see how often Aphrodite/Venus, as the goddess of Beauty, appeared in my writing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Here’s a snippet from my Regency romance, <a href="http://www.awe-struck.net/">PAGING MISS GALLOWAY</a>.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">Lady Yancy turned her attention to her daughter. “Millicent, in that blue gown, you look as fresh as Aphrodite rising from the sea.” </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">As the figure sited in Botticelli’s masterpiece was notoriously undressed, Millicent blushed. “Mother, that was Venus.” </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">Waving the ever-present handkerchief, Lady Yancy shook her head. The large feather plume from her turban fluttered in the wake of her movements. “Venus, Aphrodite. Roman, Greek, what is the difference?...”</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The Birth of Venus, Sandro Botticelli, 1484.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Evidently, I like this image because I used it again in my paranormal romantic suspense, <a href="http://www.awe-struck.net/">GRAVE FUTURE</a>.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">Slamming his eyes shut to cut off the tantalizing sight of exposed, silky skin and white, soapy bubbles, Dan clenched his fists hard—to drive away his inner pain. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">But he couldn’t keep his eyes shut all night. He permitted himself another glimpse. Jocelyn looked as lovely as Botticelli’s Venus on a half-shell—all innocence and femininity.</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMketzEzXyN0Bi3x3FRHj3c5JwKRNXfiipCRO-OPhwRFaOXMubcsg6FuwYankTot8paov56hTDR66ur9MlwGFVLSR5hhO5zblW51zLCJBSPurAEoOj4VBnUXG2n39sZC3rhuKJZCEv-M/s1600/bouguereau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMketzEzXyN0Bi3x3FRHj3c5JwKRNXfiipCRO-OPhwRFaOXMubcsg6FuwYankTot8paov56hTDR66ur9MlwGFVLSR5hhO5zblW51zLCJBSPurAEoOj4VBnUXG2n39sZC3rhuKJZCEv-M/s320/bouguereau.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The Birth of Venus, William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1879</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Beauty goes hand-in-hand with longing. Try this snippet from my Regency time-travel, <a href="http://www.awe-struck.net/">TIMELESS DECEPTION</a>.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">For his own sake and for his son’s, Richard could not allow himself to be fooled by the aristocratic, appealing,... and adulterous Aphrodite whose bedchamber adjoined his. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">Alicia did not keep him waiting long. Good. He was in no mood to enact a scene so she would dance attendance on him. Entering the room, she glided as Aphrodite might, poised and confident in her beauty. She wore a simple gown with ivory ruffles high on the neck. Matching ruffles encased her slim wrists. As always, she looked exceedingly lovely and feminine. Indeed, she appeared as if she passed a restful night. Would that she had passed it with him. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Sometimes, because the goddess Venus is also connected with sexual pleasure, her name is used as a synonym for a house of ill-repute.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">From my time-travel Regency, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005W2J0NY">LORD DARVER’S MATCH</a>.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">Simon slammed the door shut. Rosebud Tavern--a notorious temple of Venus. A place so vile by reputation that he had never felt the urge to visit inside its walls. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">He shrugged, then explained, “By the bye, any establishment with the sign of a woman’s hand pouring coffee means that inside rests a temple of Venus.” </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">An Allegory with Venus and Cupid, Agnolo Bronzino, 1550</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Venus/Aphrodite is an archetype--the epitome of Beauty. To be compared to Venus is an honor, indeed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.awe-struck.net/">SOJOURN THROUGH TIME</a>, time-travel Regency romance.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">“True, but just look around you, everything is perfect. The spherical hedges, the winding stone pathways, the budding roses, the-- I say, who’s that picture of Venus?” </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">From my paranormal romantic suspense, <a href="http://www.awe-struck.net/">PAST INDISCRETIONS</a>.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Oh, Ah dunno, ol’ buddy. Breeding tells, Ah always say. Why would a veritable Venus among women want to tether herself to someone who has tainted blood?” </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.wings-press.com/">THE RELUCTANT LANDLORD</a>, Regency romance.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">The woman’s midnight hair was piled gloriously high on her head, and one lone ringlet curled over her bare shoulder. She might have given the Greek goddess Aphrodite cause for envy. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;">His thoughts turned to a story he’d learned about in childhood. A Greek or Roman tale where a man, Pygmalion, breathed life into an ivory statue. Or requested a goddess, Aphrodite/Venus, to make the statue live. Pygmalion then married his creation, and had a happily ever after ending, an ending that was unusual in mythology. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>Jason had saved Flavia; he’d breathed life into her. Maybe their destinies were intertwined-- </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Regency romance, <a href="http://www.uncialpress.com/"><span style="color: blue;">THE MAGIC TOKEN</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>In his enthusiasm, Pritchard dug his stirrups into his horse’s ribs and leaped forward. As eager as Marcus was to meet this diminutive Venus, he had to wince. One did not mistreat good horseflesh.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Short story fantasy romance, “<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Special-Delivery-ebook/dp/B004WOWGT8">Special Delivery</a>”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>She drifted toward me, uncertain, as if a sudden gust might blow her away. I figured this was a dream... and she was my dream woman--plucked from the innermost recesses of my mind. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>Draped in a dress of filmy chiffon, my dear Ms. Venus sashayed across the street. The sheer fabric was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and boy, did it do justice to her figure. Every curve was enticingly displayed. I’ll make no bones about it;I lusted for her. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Short story fantasy romance, “<a href="http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b33358/Lucky-Thirteen/Susanne-Marie-Knight/?si=0">Zeus And The Single Teacher</a>” (in my anthology LUCKY THIRTEEN)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>If anyone knew about attractive guys, it was Venus. Maybe it was because of her name, but her growing list of boyfriends was the talk of the entire school. </em></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZs8OC2GzO3zGA29ByUQ4AaBrhZUSPQ_V9cyGV81BG6vi26wDiF7kiPK-9YNvBqNGRw3FpSIGPcZq4cc_yS8sYDSqKzX1vOgDyFqMcg9zDsevde-3HZO7-dIErWBNgQU5HDd23ed1azrc/s1600/cranach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZs8OC2GzO3zGA29ByUQ4AaBrhZUSPQ_V9cyGV81BG6vi26wDiF7kiPK-9YNvBqNGRw3FpSIGPcZq4cc_yS8sYDSqKzX1vOgDyFqMcg9zDsevde-3HZO7-dIErWBNgQU5HDd23ed1azrc/s320/cranach.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Cupid Complaining To Venus, Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1530s</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Hope you enjoyed this foray into my Romance Writing with a Twist!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Susanne Marie Knight</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.susanneknight.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Http://www.susanneknight.com</span></a></div>
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<span lang="en-us"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!</span></span></div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-55269097590610491292012-04-15T01:00:00.002-04:002012-04-15T10:24:12.829-04:00The Beauty of Earning A Spot On The Keeper Shelf<div align="center"><em>Things are beautiful if you love them.<br />- Jean Anouilh -</em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDwM1FZFVN-Qe4y3eDdErAd3uyyndIdkDToe5Z5oEAydvw3jckwBrIfQ1FImx2eCMDNcjeIEK64cbY7xXa2OJ81UCTGDosSX33wvfnxteNXQfkcirgSgZky4btn7WKW7EP9sBzrya5Bc/s1600/messy_bookshelf_01.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731426764933413826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDwM1FZFVN-Qe4y3eDdErAd3uyyndIdkDToe5Z5oEAydvw3jckwBrIfQ1FImx2eCMDNcjeIEK64cbY7xXa2OJ81UCTGDosSX33wvfnxteNXQfkcirgSgZky4btn7WKW7EP9sBzrya5Bc/s320/messy_bookshelf_01.jpg" /></a>My keeper shelves for books have always been virtual because I keep too many books to restrict them to a "keeper shelf." In fact, I've kept just about every single one of the paperback romance novels I've ever bought. And since I devoured the books ravenously for more years than I'm willing to confess, you can guess that I have a massive quantity of the things.<br /></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><br />I have shelves of romances surrounding the television in my den and more shelves hidden away in the cabinet where my landline phone sits. I have boxes and boxes of books in my youngest's walk in closet because he's a 14-year-old boy and will wear anything he grabs - it doesn't have to fit or match. I have a long shelf in the garage that my father-in-law kindly built for me one year. The hope was that other shelves would be built and eventually my whole book collection would have a home that didn't take up so much room inside the house. The garage bookcase never came to be but the one long shelf is so full that books are double-stacked and fall off the ends.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b49x3iXnDcsoJUDP5nLFoy-ET9CHZUirdODT-2sq-n0gzQDfxdhjZrlV-moaPeO_FoTkzR_GyIY8_WtPl_kgpUx4LqFNsV7wHY-1mHV4WndAO5GgHnp8MQLXIK7ThIfabebSFITyTk0/s1600/messy_bookshelf_02.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731427672953100866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b49x3iXnDcsoJUDP5nLFoy-ET9CHZUirdODT-2sq-n0gzQDfxdhjZrlV-moaPeO_FoTkzR_GyIY8_WtPl_kgpUx4LqFNsV7wHY-1mHV4WndAO5GgHnp8MQLXIK7ThIfabebSFITyTk0/s320/messy_bookshelf_02.jpg" /></a>If paperbacks ever qualify as antiques, then I'm set for life.<br /><br />So, I've never had an actual physical keeper shelf - I've kept all of my books. My keeper shelf has always been virtual and it always, always existed in my mind. <a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/author/microsite/books.aspx?authorid=15300">Woodiwisses' books</a> are there along with some of <a href="http://johannalindsey.wordpress.com/category/bibliography/by-reading-order/malory-anderson-family-series/">Johanna Lindsey's Malory novels</a>, <a href="http://www.juliaquinn.com/books/bridgertons.htm">Julia Quinn's Bridgerton series</a>, several of <a href="http://www.juliegarwood.com/">Julia Garwood's</a> (<a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0671744216/juliegarwoodc-20"><em>Secret</em></a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0671003364/juliegarwoodc-20"><em>Ransom</em></a> are real faves), some of <a href="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/h/linda-howard/">Linda Howard's</a> early work, a number of <a href="http://www.dianapalmer.com/">Diana Palmer's</a>, and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_21?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=elizabeth+lowell+only+series&sprefix=elizabeth+lowell+only%2Cstripbooks%2C241">Elizabeth Lowell's Only series</a>. <a href="http://www.susanephillips.com/books_chicagostars.html">Susan Elizabeth Phillips' Chicago Stars Football novels</a> are there too, even though I've only started watching some football lately and then only my law school alma mater, the University of South Carolina Gamecocks. (Even though I wasn't a football fan I loved Phillips' Stars books.) Because my keeper shelf was virtual, and because I have books in so many spots around the house, finding one of the books could be like a scavenger hunt. My hubby will tell you that he's often walked the distance of our small house, calling me, until Sam would shout, "She's in here Dad." Then my hubby would locate me bent over and tossing books all around the youngest's closet until I found it. You know it. The exact "keeper shelf" book I was looking for.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6zyW51dD6W40SmhRKxKZ3-S4-zwT5gdAuNuf1nBhf3FyZd_yrs4xrWLS6n2lPpZvz5Hq3DQrAsHvaew_iWT63o7VWGR6AC7fYXjfjf74TKXTY1t5ElbJ8R_1qnDoxsbQIp8ivgb_qqwc/s1600/messy_bookshelf_03.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731428733205432834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6zyW51dD6W40SmhRKxKZ3-S4-zwT5gdAuNuf1nBhf3FyZd_yrs4xrWLS6n2lPpZvz5Hq3DQrAsHvaew_iWT63o7VWGR6AC7fYXjfjf74TKXTY1t5ElbJ8R_1qnDoxsbQIp8ivgb_qqwc/s320/messy_bookshelf_03.jpg" /></a>Likely, no people on earth were happier to see the ebook revolution than my family. Eventually, the books would have run 'em clean out of room to live indoors. Heck, I was already eyeballing my oldest's closet....<br /><br />Even though it was always virtual, my keeper shelf has always been a very important place. It contains the books I've re-read, and re-read. You know - those books? The ones that take me somewhere special. Sometimes, I'll be depressed or sad or I've been moody and a real Queen B for several days and it'll hit me - I need to read <em>that book</em>. Yes, each book on my virtual keeper shelf serves a purpose. They lift my spirits. They soothe my turmoil. Visiting those characters is like visiting friends that will always, always be there for me. Books only earn a spot if I know, right from the first read, that I'll read them again. Every book on my keeper shelf -without exception - I re-read within days of finishing it the first time.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYhc78rXsU6F0NgP1Ew2gIintdXa2GicCBNZz3cMTHbx-kyh9VJPMvfj9khjr7ja_YNdGUBMwZdRCfj7OLlgiRnYn-dNNyiPyEVoMZrt3ASS-M5YhMpK_QsgNUW1urE9lwnt_GuMKelno/s1600/digital_bookshelf_01.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 227px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731429452578209922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYhc78rXsU6F0NgP1Ew2gIintdXa2GicCBNZz3cMTHbx-kyh9VJPMvfj9khjr7ja_YNdGUBMwZdRCfj7OLlgiRnYn-dNNyiPyEVoMZrt3ASS-M5YhMpK_QsgNUW1urE9lwnt_GuMKelno/s320/digital_bookshelf_01.jpg" /></a>I consider keeper shelves - real or virtual - to be a mighty special, nearly magical place. And I've told you all of this - all about how much the books I re-read and treasure mean to me - to say this: I recently got a couple of reviews and a message from different readers all saying the same thing: <em>I loved your book so much that I've already re-read it.</em> The readers were all talking about the same book -- <em><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#faerie">A Faerie Fated Forever</a></em> which is still available free everywhere.<br /><br />Now that you know how important my virtual, keeper shelf has always been to me, and how very special a book has to be to earn a spot, perhaps you can understand how very, very much those recent reader reviews and messages have meant to me. I wrote something that meant enough to earn a spot on keeper shelves. I wrote something that created such an impression that readers had to re-read it right away.<br /><br />Wow. Just, Wow.<br /><br />I know that having Shonda "Sunshine" Rhimes, Penny Marshall, Ron Howard or most anyone call with a movie deal for one of my books would be an amazing thing. I know that making the bestseller list would leave me woozy. I know that having retails have to back up Brinks trucks to unload money into my bank account would make life much more comfortable. But I know something else even more important - there are some things that you just can't buy and earning space on a keeper shelf is definitely one of those things.<br /><br />Writer Jean Anouilh said, "Things are beautiful if you love them." I agree and I would add - "and things matter if you love them." By those standards, I love my readers and I adore those who get my work, those who can open themselves and just experience what a ride over the top feels like and enjoy it enough to line up again as soon as the ride ends. </div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJm-1Ql1zukQmUvRp6jfdVfeoG1ygdpJ2mxvVysXpOpRoS1zHW3iN6pmGmKgIMmZOli6AEVls_eIpGot7RKHpwRty6SgcCNByvsLtVLdmnkKDK6c5t8yVj54z6sYFUC6Zb5tOlkliXCg/s1600/bookshelf_ducks.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 273px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731429792102129602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJm-1Ql1zukQmUvRp6jfdVfeoG1ygdpJ2mxvVysXpOpRoS1zHW3iN6pmGmKgIMmZOli6AEVls_eIpGot7RKHpwRty6SgcCNByvsLtVLdmnkKDK6c5t8yVj54z6sYFUC6Zb5tOlkliXCg/s320/bookshelf_ducks.jpg" /></a><br />Having my work earn space on some readers' keeper shelves is a beautiful experience. It's a defining moment to me as a writer because I really understand how special a book is if it's one that gets re-read. BUT NOW IT'S YOUR TURN - What does it takes to get you to re-read a book right away? And what stuff is on your - real or virtual - keeper shelf?<br /><br /><strong>Mary Anne Graham</strong><br /><a href="http://www.quackingalone.com/">Quacking Alone Romances</a><br />Friend Quacking Alone on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Quacking-Alone-Romances/168511329826726">Facebook</a>!<br />Follow Quacking Alone on <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/quackingalone">Twitter</a>!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><h6><b>Photo credits:</b><br /><br />Messy bookshelf #1<br /><a href="http://temporary-nest.blogspot.com/2010/05/clean-slate.html">http://temporary-nest.blogspot.com/2010/05/clean-slate.html</a><br /><br />Messy bookshelf #2<br /><a href="http://kitkwe.buzznet.com/user/photos/messy-bookshelf/?id=1958027">http://kitkwe.buzznet.com/user/photos/messy-bookshelf/?id=1958027</a><br /><br />Messy bookshelf #3<br /><a href="http://www.junkluggers.com/junk-news/blog/wee-wee-wee-all-the-way-home-1496/">http://www.junkluggers.com/junk-news/blog/wee-wee-wee-all-the-way-home-1496/</a><br /><br />Digital bookshelf<br /><a href="http://karawheeler.wordpress.com/2011/09/25/a-love-letter-to-the-ipad2/">http://karawheeler.wordpress.com/2011/09/25/a-love-letter-to-the-ipad2/</a><br /><br />Bookshelf ducks<br /><a href="http://moose-mouse-creations.blogspot.com/2012/02/bookshelf-beautification-after-party.html">http://moose-mouse-creations.blogspot.com/2012/02/bookshelf-beautification-after-party.html</a></h6>Mary Anne Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18002430141652464640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-12926960501456799402012-04-12T00:01:00.026-04:002012-04-12T00:01:00.978-04:00Beauty: Around Us And In Our Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCDobs-tkovBsHJUYCFGr1pZ8gXVM_hl3GIW_xKpbAcxAM3Pv1Qcu4SHSdUT_yP0FTomqef9hz94HHWBkiZbDcsFKZQmCi0I0VKJlLiwg0L9WFfkPqqrYx4eFCDfOq3iV-ZV_Uz2gMsc2/s1600/Kevin+H..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCDobs-tkovBsHJUYCFGr1pZ8gXVM_hl3GIW_xKpbAcxAM3Pv1Qcu4SHSdUT_yP0FTomqef9hz94HHWBkiZbDcsFKZQmCi0I0VKJlLiwg0L9WFfkPqqrYx4eFCDfOq3iV-ZV_Uz2gMsc2/s200/Kevin+H..jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b>Definition of beauty: <a href="http://education.yahoo.com/reference/dictionary/entry/beauty">http://education.yahoo.com/reference/dictionary/entry/beauty</a></b><br />
<ol><li><b> The quality that gives pleasure to the mind or senses and is associated with such properties as harmony of form or color, excellence of artistry, truthfulness, and originality.</b></li>
<li><b> One that is beautiful, especially a beautiful woman.</b></li>
<li><b> A quality or feature that is most effective, gratifying, or telling.</b></li>
</ol><b>Beauty surrounds us in all forms; landscape, paintings, people. What may seem beautiful to one person may not have the same effect on someone else. </b><br />
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<b>As the saying goes, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder". </b><br />
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<b>Beauty on the outside doesn't mean or guarantee a beautiful person or thing on the inside. </b><br />
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<b>Beauty fades; personality or elements may not retain outward appearance, but inner beauty can remain. This includes people, places, things. </b><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><b>What's more important? Outward beauty or beauty inside? I'd choose inner beauty.</b></div><b><br />
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<b>In romance books, covers portray pleasing, sexy images of heroines/women. But do books always describe characters as beautiful? </b><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQu23_xpou1looThp1d2McnexIyfjBeE2wo-J4BKn0uCVaK3oml1lNWYcix5QyH_GE3jI58zNwW1wvylB86LjAtRR-iQPDlPXZYlNg_j6g6MI3wWNfi7LC9DeXtICg99E1KAvXKNveHAUI/s1600/9781419914881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQu23_xpou1looThp1d2McnexIyfjBeE2wo-J4BKn0uCVaK3oml1lNWYcix5QyH_GE3jI58zNwW1wvylB86LjAtRR-iQPDlPXZYlNg_j6g6MI3wWNfi7LC9DeXtICg99E1KAvXKNveHAUI/s200/9781419914881.jpg" width="121" /></a></div><br />
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<b>In "</b><b><span style="color: blue;">Gone to the Dogs</span>", Katie talks about needing to lose weight; those extra pounds that always creep up when you're not looking. Mike's attracted to her; he likes her looks and spunky attitude. Would he call her beautiful? Maybe. Would others agree? Maybe not.</b><br />
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<b>I didn't "write" Katie to be a beauty queen. I wanted her to be attractive, normal, and a tad low on self-esteem. Aren't we all like that? Can't we relate to Katie as if she were a friend, someone just like us?</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHFGMYE8bvOWyCaDoc-CYzLacVuxHIOhyphenhyphenwdvAjYJvdMJgjkCbxZWT-wSmEzj6S36WNqh-WzhCasSZ7H4o-3bMd2LtawhpOIRyRI-y-SaohweQMp8u_iR0tFT3BJuHhLm0THPsq6OvJyBr/s1600/anythingyoucando453x680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHFGMYE8bvOWyCaDoc-CYzLacVuxHIOhyphenhyphenwdvAjYJvdMJgjkCbxZWT-wSmEzj6S36WNqh-WzhCasSZ7H4o-3bMd2LtawhpOIRyRI-y-SaohweQMp8u_iR0tFT3BJuHhLm0THPsq6OvJyBr/s200/anythingyoucando453x680.jpg" width="133" /></a><b>In "</b><b style="color: blue;">Anything You Can Do</b><b>" (ebook and coming in print this month!), Allison sparks Jeff's interest. Again, he's attracted to her good looks, but her challenge keeps him intrigued. Is she beautiful? Maybe to him, but not as a beauty queen. </b><br />
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<b>Again, I didn't "write" Allison to be anything but "the girl next door". An average, hard-working woman who entices and interests Jeff without being a size two model or celebrity. (Cover is for new print version)</b><br />
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<b>When you read, do you envision the heroine as a beautiful woman? Does a Hollywood image of what beauty looks like plant itself in your head? </b><br />
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<b>Sex appeal comes in many features; eyes, lips, smile, etc. But overall beauty does not necessarily need be the image portrayed in a romance book. The more appealing, day-to-day heroine, attractive but flawed like the rest of us, captures our attention. </b><br />
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<b>Beauty is skin-deep...it's what's inside our heroines that keeps a romance book desirable and read.</b><br />
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<b>Can you describe beauty? As a reader, do you want beautiful heroines? As a writer, are your heroines beautiful?</b><br />
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<b><a href="http://www.mariannestephens.net/">http://www.mariannestephens.net</a></b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.aprilash.net/">http://www.aprilash.net</a></b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.romancebooksrus.com/">http://www.romancebooksrus.com</a></b><br />
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<b>Photo: Flickr: Kevin H. photostream </b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-54336052638919034052012-04-10T00:01:00.002-04:002012-08-26T09:25:18.054-04:00What does beauty mean to you?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-6GlXKKMjEwNekgGY1Qv36yRYhACcSsrdHqDw-5EVg6xdOKx0cd5Qc3X2tGt9yWkKUsxD-_pzx9AnSK5hmdTC09EBAcyNw_-N1443jbfS9kqzTzFXVEH-enC394atoj_Q_JYNxTNqwY/s1600/mutual-bookpage.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729434720586376882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-6GlXKKMjEwNekgGY1Qv36yRYhACcSsrdHqDw-5EVg6xdOKx0cd5Qc3X2tGt9yWkKUsxD-_pzx9AnSK5hmdTC09EBAcyNw_-N1443jbfS9kqzTzFXVEH-enC394atoj_Q_JYNxTNqwY/s320/mutual-bookpage.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 301px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 201px;" /></a><br />
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Beauty means many things to many people: a soft, pink morning sky tinged by the rising sun, a rugged man holding his tiny daughter in his arms as he looks down at her with love in his expression…a perfect flower whose fragrance entrances.</div>
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One <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>definition of beauty is “the combination of qualities that make something pleasing and impressive to look at, listen to, touch, smell, or taste.”</div>
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Another definition of beauty is “an advantage, attraction, benefit, asset…”</div>
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But is it? We all love to look at beauty by whatever definition, but not all beauty is good. There’s a wild beauty in a deadly hurricane, and in a rattlesnake poised to strike. There’s treacherous beauty in a physically perfect human whose soul is more villainous than heroic, and sometimes fatally attractive beauty in a poisonous flower. “Gorgeous to look at, deadly to touch” can apply in many cases.</div>
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I see the greatest beauty, though, in a man whose love for his woman or his child shines through, or in a mother’s love for her newborn baby. Beauty also shows itself to me in a fragrant orchid or brilliant amaryllis, a beloved pet or an interesting plant or animal.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYzKMAa3APnGVBVjGIWr4kf-DOfH_IPVzOatZZeoNOVfNoTW9lzDQCYcnaqsY0wsFjU1dW0zSUNhmRSCzNAoKP0o2JIW_7SUOJE5Ub1b7f9R9lhASURiG44pp0oOyxIV31nb7t-wji2U/s1600/collage-of-beauty.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729435229432158130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYzKMAa3APnGVBVjGIWr4kf-DOfH_IPVzOatZZeoNOVfNoTW9lzDQCYcnaqsY0wsFjU1dW0zSUNhmRSCzNAoKP0o2JIW_7SUOJE5Ub1b7f9R9lhASURiG44pp0oOyxIV31nb7t-wji2U/s400/collage-of-beauty.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 114px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 555px;" /></a></div>
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What represents beauty to you? Tell me, and I’ll pick a winner from those who comment. The prize is a download of my bestselling-ever contemporary erotic romance, A MUTUAL FAVOR, where I hope you’ll discover real beauty comes from love.</div>
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Ann Jacobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18176748768155458312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-20733366535054362632012-04-07T05:04:00.006-04:002012-04-07T05:23:32.832-04:00The Eye of the BeholderIsn't it both amazing and wonderful that each person sees things differently than another? Most of us would think these things are lovely:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSQce20tRA6mxNXO2H6Cjv9QPPG_zQr1slJeBE5zmuFZLnGR8eu2oQe9cb1YJ48s-939js0DGdgY1NXdZVpgAkltfMYjyIwntz0T698iUzKXTxa8PRlHqsDGS2NvXPvp1ARNFwjk4xzUs/s1600/046.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSQce20tRA6mxNXO2H6Cjv9QPPG_zQr1slJeBE5zmuFZLnGR8eu2oQe9cb1YJ48s-939js0DGdgY1NXdZVpgAkltfMYjyIwntz0T698iUzKXTxa8PRlHqsDGS2NvXPvp1ARNFwjk4xzUs/s200/046.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728583507364758546" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNwuiG0HGFSt4PUNJj8Q39l0QyDsYzi6lBfnksj6l2D7aS05N8nbqlPYMkXJGyAygQu1HR3ZUw7ILd_I5iqaGi8GoGDFE75DGB6tBbFeHhzxj2REl8fs08g-sLEHxeDSp1vB6orpUC9EW/s1600/000horse.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNwuiG0HGFSt4PUNJj8Q39l0QyDsYzi6lBfnksj6l2D7aS05N8nbqlPYMkXJGyAygQu1HR3ZUw7ILd_I5iqaGi8GoGDFE75DGB6tBbFeHhzxj2REl8fs08g-sLEHxeDSp1vB6orpUC9EW/s200/000horse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728584871729416530" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpChlLRpC5aAtSc1zn2SisMW4Iqe7GzxU9CtYMirnEkkHidJkebLBxXSVlXeLNsp4o20cJIh5bwAATQHhsQdWS0VUQJ42oe34ijnVlbtJzNOpYI55dlmTbATcvYrRLCyp-tUSEA6nw2hC/s1600/00sunset.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpChlLRpC5aAtSc1zn2SisMW4Iqe7GzxU9CtYMirnEkkHidJkebLBxXSVlXeLNsp4o20cJIh5bwAATQHhsQdWS0VUQJ42oe34ijnVlbtJzNOpYI55dlmTbATcvYrRLCyp-tUSEA6nw2hC/s200/00sunset.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728584867054491634" /></a><br />However, many of us may find these creatures revolting, while others see nothing but beauty:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KzDRCIqP-R7B8tBTFrHFttOntZdLfaU5VN-9km0ZUfLKk2R1YzC8syxAF8qUPE-RnBcufncvDtvy3f9viYpPma_y8n3yGmJzfXVBm-UBfEXRXK4Zef3Y3Jzl_AvIq85ePahpmaC0LoK_/s1600/000spider.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KzDRCIqP-R7B8tBTFrHFttOntZdLfaU5VN-9km0ZUfLKk2R1YzC8syxAF8qUPE-RnBcufncvDtvy3f9viYpPma_y8n3yGmJzfXVBm-UBfEXRXK4Zef3Y3Jzl_AvIq85ePahpmaC0LoK_/s200/000spider.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728584150537066370" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg-BcYQR_rGQ9pphKrhCmtyXz4XL-MsRqxZCmxJXKX2WKs9Pb2wkkN6qrxY14EP6NHdbfUhFnKi5QqgUsnE8oSFou7-e65QHOK002zeU2PPIYRbUrhiU0H2AdyA8Av4tN4ntbeemFZ_S51/s1600/000Snake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg-BcYQR_rGQ9pphKrhCmtyXz4XL-MsRqxZCmxJXKX2WKs9Pb2wkkN6qrxY14EP6NHdbfUhFnKi5QqgUsnE8oSFou7-e65QHOK002zeU2PPIYRbUrhiU0H2AdyA8Av4tN4ntbeemFZ_S51/s200/000Snake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728584143898163442" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1nrNdvd6aefxNX2iJ2biVvVm9y-clh_HakV_YI-Pzfn5cN-xQa1g1xKi_g4Q11CisE80B3zphtRbpEIY8Rm23eq-CCbAKdQYtjfhs1ZDQNzEkpbYqkuECmkXE8_xZuuMVTgdiT4bZKMo/s1600/000Rat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 153px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1nrNdvd6aefxNX2iJ2biVvVm9y-clh_HakV_YI-Pzfn5cN-xQa1g1xKi_g4Q11CisE80B3zphtRbpEIY8Rm23eq-CCbAKdQYtjfhs1ZDQNzEkpbYqkuECmkXE8_xZuuMVTgdiT4bZKMo/s200/000Rat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728584138711207842" /></a><br />The same is true for all facets of life from movies, to TV to fiction. <br /><br />It's true! I may love a book that you hate, and vice versa. I remind myself of this when I see snarky or negative reviews (not just of my work, but of other author's work as well). <br /><br />As an author, when negative reviews hit, I shrug off the sting. I'm a rat lover (I've had them as pets in the past and they're truly amazing). I'm not spider phobic and I really don't fear snakes either. But I know those who don't feel the same way. <br /><br />And as a reader, when I read a story that just doesn't resonate with me, I simply close it and move on. I seldom bash a book, even to friends, when I don't enjoy it (I admit to one exception -- when the author killed off the protagonist's romantic interest at the end of a book in a series I was reading ... I not only complained bitterly to all who would listen, but I've never picked up a book by that author again). <br /><br />So, no matter what you're doing, it's always good to remember that one man's sunset is another man's corn snake.<br /><br />Find Marianne Arkins at her <a href="http://www.mariannearkins.com">website</a> and <a href="http://www.reading-writing.blogspot.com">blog</a>.Marianne Arkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513628861883011377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-54545101124744631072012-04-03T10:56:00.002-04:002012-04-03T11:02:36.958-04:00Early Spring BeautyI glance out my window and purple lilac blossoms wave into view as the gentle spring breezes make the boughs dance and weave on my bushes. Stepping out onto my deck, I see the last of the daffodils, and the bright yellow dandelions. The catnip is up, as is the lemon balm, mums, and the yarrow. My lavender is coming back to life with fragrant stalks. My horse is shedding enough winter hair to make an entirely new horse, and everywhere I look it's green.<br /><br />The beautiful colors of spring came quite early this year. Usually it's May, not April, when my lilacs bloom, and the daffodils are early in April, not March. In fact, for a tulip festival not far from where I live, they've been piling mulch on their tulip beads; you have six weeks from when they first appear to first blooms and the festival isn't until May.<br /><br />I find the beauty relaxing, a reminder that after the rain or the winter come the flowers we so long to see. It's a spiritual reminder that not everything is dark, drab, and dreary all the time, and even though we might struggle through winter (not this year), it's worth it when the flowers come out.<br /><br />Personally, it's a reminder to find some beauty in our lives. It doesn't matter how stressed out we get, looking at a cat snoozing in the sun, or the lilacs outside puts smiles on our faces and we see the beauty all around us.<br /><br />What beauty do you see? And as I snip a lilac branch to take to my mother today, what beauty do you share?Mary Caelstohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09381981053843929847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-82584218676786367592012-04-01T13:16:00.000-04:002012-04-01T13:16:37.052-04:00No April Fools<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This month our theme is beauty. The old saying, of course, is it’s in the eye of the beholder. Still there are many things no one can deny the beauty of: a flower, a sunset, a grand vista, a butterfly, the sound of laughter. This time of year, nature provides us a grand show of beauty. Trees buds unfurling the leaves changing bare branches to a profusion of blossoms and leaves, early flowers popping open their blooms in vibrant colors, and hillsides covering themselves in a coat of grasses and wildflowers. When thinking of beauty, first to come to mind is what the eyes see, not so much as what the mind perceives in the beholder. My husband tells me I’m beautiful. I look into the mirror. I know I’m not, but to his eyes, mind, and heart, I am. To me his words are. Our words, the pictures we paint on the mind with them, the emotions which generate them or that they create produce beauty. I love you the ultimate in words of beautiful emotion. A thank you given for something done without thought of the act having any significance value. A compliment, giving recognition of a job well done, an expression of compassion or sympathy, or a few words of encouragement when things are going bad, simply beautiful words we so many times forget to say.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take the time to see and hear the beauty that surrounds us. No matter how bad things get in other ways, beauty is there for us to see and warm our hearts, beauty in the eyes of the beholder or mind. No April fool.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://www.larriane.com/">http://www.larriane.com</a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div>Larion aka Larriane Willshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044089414209140043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-26437511251049488252012-03-26T09:35:00.000-04:002012-03-27T14:31:39.423-04:00Hook, Line and Sinker....In our digital world, the concept of perusing bookshelves has taken on a whole new dimension. While brick and mortar bookshops still exist, they are closing at a rate faster than real estate agents can post their For Lease signs. These days the majority of readers surf the web and online bookstores for new releases and old favorites, a place where they can 'take a look inside' at the teasers and sample chapters authors have posted, and have email reminders sent with new releases and promotions.<br />
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Yet, however much the physical act of perusing bookshelves has changed, the process readers employ in deciding on which books they'll spend their hard earned money has intrinsically stayed the same. With the exception of Amazon's free reads program that is all the rage now, for the most part, books are still picked up, flipped through and examined before being purchased.<br />
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So what lures a reader in? What is it that entices them to pick up your book and scan it? In the world of publishing, there are varying answers, in varying order...a provocative cover, endorsements from other well-known authors, glowing reviews, marketing, social networking, price... But I would be my next royalty check, editors abound who would all agree it's the hook. That more than anything else, it's those first few beginning paragraphs/pages and intriguing back cover blurb that seal the deal.<br />
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Since "Beginnings" is our topic for the month of March, I thought it apropos to talk about how one crafts the beginning of a story. Of course, it all starts with an idea. Some inspiring thought, dream or experience that takes root in our fertile imagination and grows from there. But that's not the beginning I'm talking about. I mean, once the idea for a story has formed, and you're sitting with your hands poised over your keyboard, how do you get from staring at a blinking cursor on a blank page to those first all important words?<br />
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I have to chuckle, because the first thought that popped into my mind as I asked the question was the phrase, lather, rinse and repeat. I don't mean I suds it up before I sit down to write, but I will invariably write, read, delete and then repeat the process until the words in front of me not only sound right, but feel right. Most authors I know, write from their gut. Their stories, like mine, aren't formulaic. They have a life of their own, as do their characters, and when you live a character's life through your words, you have to feel the truth of it...viscerally. To sane people, that sounds more than a little crazy. But to writers (and artists of any kind) it makes perfect sense.<br />
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How many of us get to the end of our stories, type the coveted words The End, and then go back and reread the opening few paragraphs of Chapter One and tweak them? I know I do.<br />
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But what's the best way to write a good hook? Should you begin with dialogue, plunging your reader straight into the mix? What about prologues full of description and back story? Are you a fan of starting your hook in that way? I think there are as many right answers as there are different authors. It all has to do with style and voice. I myself have done it with dialogue, and I've also done it with full bodied description, pages before I got into any real dialogue...both equally successful and both putting the reader right into the story. So, what's your style? How do you hook your readers into wanting to hear your voice tell your story?<br />
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I'd love to know...<br />
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Marianne Morea<br />
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<br />Marianne Moreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11874251904452596285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-61582835309763707142012-03-24T16:05:00.000-04:002012-03-24T16:06:22.118-04:002012<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> <w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> <w:word11kerningpairs/> 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mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><span style="font-size:20.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">2012</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">What does it mean: 2012 . . . the numerical value?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Everything vibrates to something.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Does 2012 lead to the end of the world predicted by the Mayans? </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Or ~ is there a hidden reason as to why the calendar stopped when it did?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not that I place preference on what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">mankind</i> has to say about such matters.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We are all flawed some way or another.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It is the nature of “the beast”.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Like - why does it have to be an end?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Why can’t it be a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">beginning? </i><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What do the numbers say, as they set the tone of the year.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:20.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">2012</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:20.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">2</span></b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> the number of Cooperation.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Whatever we do this year will be worked in the joint effort of <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>others.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The requisite is <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">two</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The problem posed with this number is knowing when to give and when not to.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And this is not only of your time, but also of yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If you give too much, you will become dry, emptied to the point of nothingness, what I call the ‘Why bother?’ syndrome.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Withdrawing is an eventuality.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">But – if you give just right: a little bit here and little bit there, you are uplifted.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Confidence flows.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Trust is required here, trusting in what you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">feel</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Every venture starts out trust.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So does every partnership, be they co-workers, friends, family, or romantic.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Trust</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It goes a long way.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">0</span></b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> comes after the 2, intensifying the quality, and the depth, of these relationships.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Double Whammy, but remember - it all depends on which side the fence you’ve decided to rest your head: positive, or negative.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Taken in context, working with others to achieve your goals is a good thing and has benefits you both can reap from.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Survive by knowing when to compromise (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">cooperate)</i> and when not too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Give and take is amplified so things are going to be harder, but the rewards will be great. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>For those who believe (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">trust</i>) in the future, eventually it materializes!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s a given.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Faith really does move mountains!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">1</span></b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> the number of Creativity.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This is what happens when we work with others for the common good.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The creative juices flow, a fountain of opportunities bubbling to the forefront.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>1 correlates with Aries in that it is the first sign of the Zodiac.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Any where Aries resides is a new beginning, a brand new start- one that must be undertaken with courage, faith in the dream enough to make it a reality.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">The only problem is impatience which leads to missed steps, or should I say skipped steps, as that’s what it is, passing over the mundane because I want to get to the fun.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Connect the dots means not missing a brick in our foundation.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When presented in the whole, they create a new picture: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Dimension.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Depth.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Truth.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This is who I am. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I can do it!</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">It </span></i><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">can be anything that’s important; anything that’s bothering you . . . you know? A nagging doubt?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Curse it!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This is Earth after all!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Never limit.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Murphy’s Law exists for a reason. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They are tests. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>LOL! <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Patience, therefore, is an asset.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">2</span></b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> back to Cooperation/ Care Giving.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Let’s see . . . we start out cooperating in order to release our creativity.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Things will be intense but will work out <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">if </i>we so desire. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>An opportunity for dreams to come true via belief is here.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Trusting them will make the juices flow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Now we’re back to square one but with a difference.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Before the vision wasn’t real.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Now it is.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The people we’ll be working with at this point will be the ones who will help us succeed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This is a good cooperation BUT it must still abide by the rule of knowing when to give and when not to; who to give to and who not to.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Trust your first impression, what some call instinct.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s more accurate than we realize.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Now let’s take the separates and make them one.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They are the energies at work. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">2+0=2+1=3+2=5. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>5 </b>the number of Freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If we learn to trust, we can set ourselves free!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>5 has a kinship with Leo, the Teenager of the Zodiac.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“You think I can’t,” the kid yells at his/her parents.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“Well, watch me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">I will</i>!”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Leo is the King of Creativity.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Walt Disney was a Leo and look what he did!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Dreams come true to those who believe because they never give up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This year, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">a 5 year</i>, means we have an opportunity to take some risks and win.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">But it’s all based on your faith in your dream.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">These dreams represent what’s important to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">you</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They make up the fabric of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">your</i> life.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">The odds are set in our favor this year so why not go after that star and set yourself free? <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You’ll find the things that were holding you back melt to the wayside each step you take. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">A new beginning</i> . . . </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">So . . . what do you want to set yourself free of this year?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Where will your new beginnings take you?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Hmmmm.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Maybe that Mayan calendar stopped because it was the end of one era and the beginning of another?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">opportunity </i>is there.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A 5 is a year in which wishes can come true if we but chase them.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Do I believe the world is going to end this December?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">No.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">And I don’t worry about it either.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">I’m going to be chasing some stars. </span></p>Mariannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15560925536585398778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-19266532244791161502012-03-22T09:43:00.000-04:002012-03-22T09:43:08.169-04:00Beginning Plotting 101<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Since March officially starts the beginning of Spring, I thought I’d share this </span><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“W”</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> chart that helps writers plot the action in a story. Down, down, up, up, down, down, up! </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Give your readers a rollercoaster of a ride!</span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbQGhY016Q36N2BLpyU9elD29wvS4Y6ViBtRom0BdAuzeA_eQgWlPmg8BsD3o7xPmZMxQDzn2qVk9tWBZ8upulF38JDKGFZ2CDyfkSeeF6XtC-9QBNjSfjUZmqFLwjdofNCOR1CDdcJk/s1600/PlotW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbQGhY016Q36N2BLpyU9elD29wvS4Y6ViBtRom0BdAuzeA_eQgWlPmg8BsD3o7xPmZMxQDzn2qVk9tWBZ8upulF38JDKGFZ2CDyfkSeeF6XtC-9QBNjSfjUZmqFLwjdofNCOR1CDdcJk/s400/PlotW.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">A:</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Start of book. Establish main characters. State goals for hero </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">and heroine. Get them together as soon as possible.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">B:</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> First barrier to attainment of goals. Confrontation? Things don’t look so rosy anymore.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">C: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">First low point for <b>both</b> characters. This action can happen in the same chapter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">D: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Whew! Barrier to goals drops temporarily. Things are looking up! A good time for a kiss.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">E:</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> A high point. Yes! Some goals are accomplished and life is good.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">F: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Then... <b>Boom!</b> The rug is unexpectedly pulled out from under the hero and heroine. Bad news for both.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">G: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Low point again. Catastrophe! The sky has fallen! Will the sun ever shine again?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">H:</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Things improve, then there’s a setback. Uncertainly reigns. Will they or won’t they resolve their differences? High, low. High, low.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">I: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Resolution of conflict! All loose ends tied up. Attainment of goals! A </span><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">happy</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> ending!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">And speaking of happy endings... my newest paranormal romance is now available at <a href="http://www.amazon.com/A-Karmic-Connection-ebook/dp/B007FDVK0Y" target="_blank">Amazon.com</a>. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3ZnsRFSuidQLJsOl_oy-wVfz81iGcAaE4lVzTxFU_Z6KH8AIJCsVoJ1Rn8TibllsYMSRcSSWt49kzHGhqHaQ5DegokY5OF2uPZr6Ht_eMxZhVIIz1tiiTpeMvqxbCDtnHvhSTpkov-A/s1600/KarmicConnection_SMKnight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3ZnsRFSuidQLJsOl_oy-wVfz81iGcAaE4lVzTxFU_Z6KH8AIJCsVoJ1Rn8TibllsYMSRcSSWt49kzHGhqHaQ5DegokY5OF2uPZr6Ht_eMxZhVIIz1tiiTpeMvqxbCDtnHvhSTpkov-A/s320/KarmicConnection_SMKnight.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-autospace: ideograph-numeric;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-autospace: ideograph-numeric;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;">DÉjÀ Vu</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">--Twenty years ago, Elizabeth Williams had two suitors. She chose Allen over Paul. Now she is divorced and starting over with a new location and a new career. But instead of a new love knocking at her door, an old love seems destined to overwhelm her. Elizabeth’s path crosses with Paul’s, and once again she must make a decision that will change her life.<span style="background: lime; mso-highlight: lime;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-autospace: ideograph-numeric;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-autospace: ideograph-numeric;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;">DÉjÀ WOO-WOO</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">--Doctor Paul Jones, with his feet firmly planted on terra firma, has no patience for metaphysical matters. When a medical conference brings him to the New Age capital of the world, he keeps his distance from anything “woo-woo.” But when he’s attracted to a woman who insists they’d met before... Paul realizes he needs help--metaphysical help--to show him the way to win his Lovely Lizzie’s heart.</span></div><div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Enjoy!</span></span></div><div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><br />
<div class="widget Blog" id="Blog1"><div class="blog-posts hfeed"><div class="date-outer"><h2 class="date-header"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Susanne</strong></span></span></span></h2></div><div class="date-outer"><div class="date-posts"><div class="post-outer"><div class="post hentry"><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-1253267914763679815"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Susanne Marie Knight </span><a href="blocked::http://www.susanneknight.com/" title="blocked::blocked::http://www.susanneknight.com/
blocked::http://www.susanneknight.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-size: small;">http://www.susanneknight.com</span></span></a><span style="font-size: small;"> <br />
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>A Karmic Connection</b> (Amazon & Smashwords)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: small;">Elizabeth and Paul went their separate ways twenty years ago. When their paths cross again, will they heed the psychic signs that they are meant to be together?</span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"></div><span style="font-size: small;">EPPIE Finalist: <b>The Magic Token</b> (Uncial Press) </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;">An old woman gives skeptical Amanda a magic coin. It couldn’t possibly work, but how else can she explain her sudden good fortune?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Coming May: The Minx Tobin Mystery Series: <b>The Embezzled Envelope--Case Six</b> (Desert Breeze Publishing) </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;">An old embezzlement case takes on a new twist: murder. When Minx tries to clear her good friend’s name, she gets burned... literally.</span></i></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-79480474616322715532012-03-20T04:00:00.001-04:002012-03-20T04:00:11.832-04:00Beginnings!<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXp_q24ow_zYJZP8Z_bmyQDrL6GA-o0C4vZyR9KgMoTz-pRhiLm-WSAVcIVSe8G7JkDTkOCWfWYiFGbUy2sSstvA8lRf8Fl7IfZ3yJYY1LT2QUK8Gnr2Zd4F_jYrXosRvR7PLZinfgMoaQ/s1600/coffee3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 183px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712596217621222178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXp_q24ow_zYJZP8Z_bmyQDrL6GA-o0C4vZyR9KgMoTz-pRhiLm-WSAVcIVSe8G7JkDTkOCWfWYiFGbUy2sSstvA8lRf8Fl7IfZ3yJYY1LT2QUK8Gnr2Zd4F_jYrXosRvR7PLZinfgMoaQ/s320/coffee3.jpg" /></a>Good morning! Grab a coffee, paper and pencil, and take a seat. Today I want to talk about how important the beginning of an MS can be. In fact, it sets the pace for the entire story.<br /><br /><br /><div>Okay. I confess. This is also a shameless plug for my newest release <em>Nathaniel</em>. But I wanted to give you an example of how the beginning was first written, and how, with the help of friends, the story became something publishable. The changes aren't drastic, but make for a tighter story, more exciting story that readers might want to pick up.</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Nathaniel</div><br /><div align="center">(first round)</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">Taden’s knuckles whitened on the handle of the hunting knife. Moonlight flashed along the blade. The two soldiers had stripped the prisoner of his shirt and the young man’s chest glistened with sweat in the firelight. The prisoner’s head hung heavily, arms stretched between two trees. A mop of golden curls hid his face.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">Rising from his crouch, careful not to scrape against the fragrant brush concealing him, Taden skirted a clump of pine, watching his step on the carpet of needles and twigs underfoot. An owl hooted nearby, startling him. </div><br /><br /><div align="left">He kept to the shadow of the trees, halting within a few paces of the prisoner and his tormenters. From his position, Taden could see the dark bruising on the prisoner’s torso. This wasn’t the first time the young man had been beaten.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">Before Taden could stop him, the nearest soldier slammed a balled fist into the prisoner’s abdomen, jeering as he cried out. White rage tore through Taden; the knife a solid, reassuring weight in his hand. He couldn’t stand by and watch this needless cruelty.<br /></div><br /><div align="left">With a bound<a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_1; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241"> </a><a id="_anchor_1" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_1','_com_1')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_1')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_1" name="_msoanchor_1">[GB1]</a> he closed the distance between him and the soldiers, heart pounding in his ears. The closest man <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_2; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">was raising </a><a id="_anchor_2" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_2','_com_2')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_2')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_2" name="_msoanchor_2">[GB2]</a> his fist again <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_3; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">when </a><a id="_anchor_3" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_3','_com_3')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_3')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_3" name="_msoanchor_3">[GB3]</a> Taden threw an arm around <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_4; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">his </a><a id="_anchor_4" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_4','_com_4')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_4')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_4" name="_msoanchor_4">[GB4]</a> neck and jerked his head back, exposing the vulnerable throat. The smell of sweat <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_5; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">and </a><a id="_anchor_5" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_5','_com_5')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_5')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_5" name="_msoanchor_5">[GB5]</a> horses and the sharp tang of fear filled Taden’s nostrils <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_6; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">as </a><a id="_anchor_6" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_6','_com_6')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_6')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_6" name="_msoanchor_6">[GB6]</a> <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_7; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">he drew his blade in a quick motion across the </a><a id="_anchor_7" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_7','_com_7')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_7')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_7" name="_msoanchor_7">[GB7]</a> soldier’s windpipe. Hot blood swelled across the back of Taden’s hand and he said a quick prayer for the departing soul as the soldier wheezed out his last breath, <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_8; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2241">slumping heavily in his arms</a><a id="_anchor_8" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_8','_com_8')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_8')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msocom_8" name="_msoanchor_8">[GB8]</a> .<br /></div><br /><div align="left"><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_1">GB1]</a>Comma? (Style choice)<br /><a name="_msocom_2"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_2">[GB2]</a>Raised (Present tense)<br /><a name="_msocom_3"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_3">[GB3]</a>Not needed – punctuate. When and then are nasty little buggers<br /><a name="_msocom_4"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_4">[GB4]</a>His own neck? – be clear.<br /><a name="_msocom_5"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_5">[GB5]</a>Comma – two ‘ands’ in one sentence<br /><a name="_msocom_6"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_6">[GB6]</a>End of sentence. Action scene. Sentences short – even one word.<br /><a name="_msocom_7"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6934913775261743747#_msoanchor_7">[GB7]</a>Really more show here! The blade snagged on tendon and cartilage. The point scraped vertebrae. Slashed arteries pumped blood from the grinning wound.<br />Calm down, Gary, deep breaths. Take your tablets….<br /><a name="_msocom_8"></a><br />(GB8)Falling like a sack of (?) as Taden pushed his writhing body away. </div><br /><br /><div align="left">Throwing the dead man from him, Taden started for the other, but his prey <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_1; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">had no stomach for a fight and </a><a id="_anchor_1" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_1','_com_1')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_1')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_1" name="_msoanchor_1">[GB1]</a> ran into the trees. <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_2; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">Ignoring a stir of pity</a><a id="_anchor_2" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_2','_com_2')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_2')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_2" name="_msoanchor_2">[GB2]</a> , Taden sprinted <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_3; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">after him</a><a id="_anchor_3" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_3','_com_3')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_3')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_3" name="_msoanchor_3">[GB3]</a> . He couldn’t allow the man to reach his companions. <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_5; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">With his longer stride</a><a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_4; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301"> </a><a id="_anchor_4" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_4','_com_4')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_4')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_4" name="_msoanchor_4">[GB4]</a> <a id="_anchor_5" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_5','_com_5')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_5')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_5" name="_msoanchor_5">[GB5]</a> Taden caught the soldier within heartbeats. <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_6; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">Taking a tight grip on the knife, he made a dive for the soldier’s legs </a><a id="_anchor_6" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_6','_com_6')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_6')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_6" name="_msoanchor_6">[GB6]</a> and they both went down hard on the forest floor. <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_7; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">Taden scrambled to his knees, straddling the struggling soldier. Steeling his resolve, </a><a id="_anchor_7" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_7','_com_7')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_7')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_7" name="_msoanchor_7">[GB7]</a> he plunged the knife deep into the man’s chest, the keen blade severing bone and muscle, seeking the heart.<br /></div><br /><div align="left">Taden swore bitterly as the soldier’s life pumped out <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_8; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">in </a><a id="_anchor_8" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_8','_com_8')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_8')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_8" name="_msoanchor_8">[GB8]</a> a black pool <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_9; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">around the knife handle</a><a id="_anchor_9" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_9','_com_9')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_9')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_9" name="_msoanchor_9">[GB9]</a> , <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_10; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">terror on the youth’s face; a boy playing at being a man. Damn them</a><a id="_anchor_10" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_10','_com_10')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_10')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_10" name="_msoanchor_10">[GB10]</a> . <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_11; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">The Sutherlins </a><a id="_anchor_11" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_11','_com_11')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_11')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_11" name="_msoanchor_11">[GB11]</a> had no scruples about whom they sent out to fight.<br /><br /><a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_12; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">M</a><a id="_anchor_12" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_12','_com_12')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_12')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_12" name="_msoanchor_12">[GB12]</a> uttering his soldier’s prayer for the wasted young life, Taden climbed to his feet, bone weary and heartsick.<br /></div><br /><div align="left">Unable to bear the <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_13; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">gaze </a><a id="_anchor_13" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_13','_com_13')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_13')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_13" name="_msoanchor_13">[GB13]</a> of the boy’s lifeless eyes, Taden left the <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_14; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">hunting knife embedded in the soldier’s chest </a><a id="_anchor_14" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_14','_com_14')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_14')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_14" name="_msoanchor_14">[GB14]</a> and <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_15; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">made his way </a><a id="_anchor_15" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_15','_com_15')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_15')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_15" name="_msoanchor_15">[GB15]</a> back through the silent forest towards the flickering fire and the youth <a style="mso-comment-reference: GB_16; mso-comment-date: 20120223T2301">bound to the </a><a id="_anchor_16" language="JavaScript" class="msocomanchor" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_16','_com_16')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_16')" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msocom_16" name="_msoanchor_16">[GB16]</a> trees.<br /></div><br /><div align="left"><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_1">[GB1]</a>The rest of this sentence shows that<br /><a name="_msocom_2"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_2">[GB2]</a>Not needed<br /><a name="_msocom_3"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_3">[GB3]</a>‘Taden sprinted.’ Is the whole sentence. Show us some dead leaves flying.<br /><a name="_msocom_4"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_4">[GB4]</a>Comma?<br /><a name="_msocom_5"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_5">[GB5]</a>In his fury?<br /><a name="_msocom_6"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_6">[GB6]</a>Thinking about it – that’s a really hard manouever without stabbing yourself in the eye. I would go for a simple plunge into his back. Taden angling the point down to hook into ribs, use his body weight to pull the bloke down and them crash the dagger two-handed through his skull. Oh dear. I think I need a drink.<br /><a name="_msocom_7"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_7">[GB7]</a>A bit too many slow words for a quick scene<br /><a name="_msocom_8"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_8">[GB8]</a>Not needed<br /><a name="_msocom_9"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_9">[GB9]</a>Into the trees! This is a heart – you are not squeezing a lemon.<br /><a name="_msocom_10"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_10">[GB10]</a>That is so good<br /><a name="_msocom_11"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_11">[GB11]</a>New para.<br /><a name="_msocom_12"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_12">[GB12]</a>Quiet now. Waiting for shouts. The soft flick of a twig… nothing. Taden breathed out and said a soldier’s….<br /><a name="_msocom_13"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_13">[GB13]</a>Tricky – dead people do not gaze<br /><a name="_msocom_14"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_14">[GB14]</a>No one leaves a knife<br /><a name="_msocom_15"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_15">[GB15]</a>No, he skirted branches, eased twigs in the leaf mould aside, until<br /><a name="_msocom_16"></a><br /><a class="msocomoff" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6934913775261743747&postID=7948047461632271553#_msoanchor_16">[GB16]</a>Collapsed between his bonds<br /><a name="_msocom_17"></a><br />* * * *<br />Hello from Gary. Wow! Give yourself a pat on the back. Sit down, take a breath and pour a big whiskey.<br />I hope (if ever you opt to be a beta reader for me) that I will never be able to satisfy you. I want you to get so nit-picky that even the nits are nit-free.<br />There are still a couple of areas that need show – I’ve made suggestions. Please take them in spirit – Taden doesn’t have chew peoples’ heart out with his bare teeth (I jest).<br />We are looking at style here – this is already good writing and a good story. Thus the critique becomes so much more subjective (and; therefore, more easily ignored).<br />I’ve done the first three pages. I can do more (please ask – no probs) but I think you’ll get the picture.<br />And keep action sentences short.<br />Taden leapt. Dagger. Heart. Blood splashes in his eyes. Hot. Sticky. The soldier sucks a breath through the gaping wound. Blood and muscle into his lungs. Death.<br />* * * *</div><br /><br /><div align="center">Nathaniel(finished)</div><br /><br /><div align="left">Taden edged closer to the men in the clearing, careful not to snag his cloak on the fragrant scrub brush concealing him. The two Sutherlin soldiers had stripped their captive of his shirt and his chest glistened with sweat in the firelight. His head hung heavily, arms stretched between two trees. A mop of chestnut curls hid his face. Taden’s knuckles whitened on the hunting knife in his hand as a soldier struck the prisoner in the face, making him cry out. Taden could see the dark bruising on his torso. This wasn’t the first time he had been beaten.<br /></div><br /><div align="left">The second man slammed a balled fist into the prisoner’s abdomen and laughed at his grunt of pain. It was too much. Maybe he was being a fool for interfering, but he couldn’t stand by and watch the needless cruelty. He eased from hiding and silently closed the distance between him and the soldiers.<br />The closest man was raising his fist again when Taden reached him. He threw an arm around the soldier’s neck and jerked, exposing the vulnerable throat. The smell of sweat and fear filled his nostrils as he drew his blade in a quick motion across the knotty windpipe. Hot blood spilled over the back of his hand. The soldier wheezed and slumped heavily in his arms.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">Taden threw the dead man from himself and started for the other, but his prey had no stomach for a fight and ran into the trees. Taden sprinted after him. He couldn’t allow the man to reach his companions. He caught the soldier within heartbeats with his longer stride and plunged the knife into the man’s back with both hands. Thrown off balance, they both went down hard on the forest floor. Taden scrambled to his knees and straddled the screaming soldier. He jerked the knife free and thrust it again into the blood soaked uniform. The keen blade severed bone and muscle, seeking the heart.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">The soldier’s life pumped out around the knife handle and Taden swore bitterly, witness to the terror on the face pressed into the dirt. A boy playing at being a man. “Damn them,” he fumed. The Sutherlins had no scruples about whom they sent out to fight. </div><br /><br /><div align="left">He tucked a blond curl of hair behind the boy’s ear as he muttered his soldier’s prayer, stirred to sadness for the one in the young man’s life who would never have the pleasure of that small intimacy again. Taden climbed to his feet, bone weary and heartsick, and tugged the hunting knife from the soldier’s back. A twig snapped as he wiped it clean in the dirt, making his heart pound, but it was only the scurry of a small animal in the brush. He took a last look at the dead soldier then made his way back through the moonlit forest towards the flickering fire and the young man bound to the trees.</div><br /><br /><div align="left">The prisoner had his feet planted apart, knees locked to keep from sagging against the bindings, but blood slicked his wrists and ran down his forearms from where the ropes bit into the skin. His head was lowered and Taden wondered if his strength had given out.<br /></div><br /><div align="left">“Hello? Don’t be afraid,” he said carefully. “I come without enmity.”<br /></div><br /><div align="left">The prisoner lifted his head and Taden was caught in the gaze of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, clear green with a starburst of gold at the pupils, amazing eyes that held him confused and thrilling. The look brushed against the lonely spot in his heart he kept deeply buried. Then the man blinked and Taden felt released, as if he’d been spellbound. His heart lurched at the exhaustion in the oval face.<br /></div><a name="_msocom_1"></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDAnGTaaxV0fiNpaT4S2LNo5n7EXEBveoWvPZXEcN58SfB6PPpJel4cnEVq-aq8X2xL54H-4cV-DwZ-w-atM1b3zQ9bl0VwbTgEs3hpdcvYQUeeJ-xCdIApHGO7SWPpKmRKE1Ng3zdQo1/s1600/nathaniel.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714065201564634690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDAnGTaaxV0fiNpaT4S2LNo5n7EXEBveoWvPZXEcN58SfB6PPpJel4cnEVq-aq8X2xL54H-4cV-DwZ-w-atM1b3zQ9bl0VwbTgEs3hpdcvYQUeeJ-xCdIApHGO7SWPpKmRKE1Ng3zdQo1/s200/nathaniel.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">Nathaniel<br /><a href="http://etopiapressblog.wordpress.com/">Etopia Press</a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">March 2, 2012<br /><br /><em>The prisoner lifts his head and Taden is caught in the gaze of the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen; amazing eyes that hold him confused and thrilling. From the moment Taden rescues Nathaniel from the Sutherlin soldiers’ torture, he feels responsible for the youth. The Sutherlins have invaded the beautiful Tahon Valley, and as Taden secrets Nathaniel from their reach, he finds himself drawn inexplicably to the young man. He protects Nathaniel not only from the Sutherlins but from his own mistrustful people, who don’t understand Nathaniel’s powers and believe him to be a witch. Will Taden convince Nathaniel to stay with him and live under his protection, or will the youth sail home and leave Taden in loneliness?</em> </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-4163207077230030062012-03-15T01:00:00.000-04:002012-03-15T01:00:07.928-04:00The Magic Of Beginning<blockquote>"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it; Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. "<br /><br /><em>Johann Wolfgang von Goethe</em><br /></blockquote><br /><br />If a thing is to be, at some point, it must start, originate -- begin. As von Goethe says, beginning is bold, powerful and even - magic. Out of nothing, something comes to exist. Whether it's a baby, a courtship, a marriage, or a career - it started somewhere and was motivated by something. Someone sat down and said.... I could or I want or I need. We've all done that. We've all done it countless times over countless things that never came to be. Why did they never come to be?<br /><br />They never came to be because we never crossed the magic bridge.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719853951764639986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4lTnxc6GGEHG1qBv7wIGTmRKB-K3Ql8AKpfbN9j_ALjPr4AHLW9sdSuAthi0eiVubBf1nFQhn3h0dBXkC-UAskz3GHGISNDBCMg1k3b5l_Ud-Ht4W2Qj-WlQEoYKzbC5Yvu7HnMl_X0/s320/magic_bridge_02.jpg" /><br /><em>I could</em> and <em>I want</em> and <em>I need</em> are all ways of saying the same thing - <em><strong>I wish</strong></em>. But wishing never made anything so. Between <strong><em>I wish</em></strong> and <strong><em>I will</em></strong> lies the magic bridge. Crossing it is a bold act, an affirmation of the power of your belief in yourself. You must believe in your ability to change a dream into a reality. Belief is the magic that bridges who you are to who you are becoming.<br /><br />What makes the magic bridge such a scary place is that it takes a dream that won't die to propel you to take that first step out there, to that place you've never been. I'm a lawyer by trade and many fine starry-eyed young folks dream of becoming a lawyer. But practicing law was never my dream - it was mostly just a logical career progression. My first choice of career was medicine, and I was a candy striper once upon a time. The hospital kept increasing my hours because I related to the patients so well. But doctors have to be good at things like science and math - which were never in my skill set. Doctors especially have to be good at not relating so much to patients that they lose their independent judgment. No, neither medicine nor law was ever my dream.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3rJTirdxKb1Y_KvIT9ZNZZu4Bt2wWDHqvzsuzJPdw3DURS-DTN5vPnPFhoIHSpouinD50j6ul8VYIhDSIwsCJ1thE9Fo7EKnpUWBEqmYWgixhpmFuMS72pnIprB2oHn-nT0jTwQ4L_c/s1600/dream_bridge_01.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 273px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719856379497362546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3rJTirdxKb1Y_KvIT9ZNZZu4Bt2wWDHqvzsuzJPdw3DURS-DTN5vPnPFhoIHSpouinD50j6ul8VYIhDSIwsCJ1thE9Fo7EKnpUWBEqmYWgixhpmFuMS72pnIprB2oHn-nT0jTwQ4L_c/s320/dream_bridge_01.jpg" /></a>My dream is to write romance novels and it has been since I was a starry-eyed young thing. I was a teenager when I wandered down the "w" shelf at my local library and found "The Flame And The Flower" by the late Kathleen Woodiwiss. I plowed through every book of hers the library had and then went searching for more. As time went by I fell in love with work by Rosemary Rogers, Johanna Lindsey, Catherine Coulter, Elizabeth Lowell, Julia Quinn and so many, many others. Not every time and not with every book, but more times than I could count - I'd put the book down at a crucial point and imagine how I thought the next scene should go. Little did I realize it at the time, but I was stretching my creative muscles and getting ready.<br /><br />I always wanted to write books of my own where I'd get to do more than finish someone else's stories. In younger years I'd written a short story good enough for one of my teachers to have me come into every session of her music class during a particular day and read the full story. I had a study hall teacher who would often stop by my desk to see if I'd finished anything new and if I had, she wanted to read it. Long before I put on my newspaper reporter's cap - a role I also had all through Junior High, High School and College - I had a poem published in the newspaper. And once, in high school, I wrote a paragraph good enough to leave a roomful of loud teenagers in absolute, total silence. But the thought of trying to write a whole book of my very own - well, that scared the stuffing out of me.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLz_uZfWthuK4HADlPvHEks-DNgylpGtD4rzLA68bnhx3FRBDfgAgpBBiHM2T7MWYpO_CbsIQjJl66szh3MLrMxHM7qTMcjHym3CxlMHI2etB5ZlsWOelXie-nSgdJxOZUWnjiUYiZmI0/s1600/lawyer_writing_01.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 210px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719858045673604866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLz_uZfWthuK4HADlPvHEks-DNgylpGtD4rzLA68bnhx3FRBDfgAgpBBiHM2T7MWYpO_CbsIQjJl66szh3MLrMxHM7qTMcjHym3CxlMHI2etB5ZlsWOelXie-nSgdJxOZUWnjiUYiZmI0/s320/lawyer_writing_01.jpg" /></a>And life got in the way too, mostly because it was easier to keep my dream perfect and intact - as all dreams are - rather than dirty it with the wear and tear of reality. I went to college and then on to law school. I graduated as a lawyer much more at home at a keyboard than in front of a jury - which was no surprise. I was surprised at what a demand there is for lawyers who can write a compelling memorandum, Order, or appellate brief. And my love of researching all those term papers my English Bachelor's took to earn translated naturally to legal research - so my career as a "scrivener" or legal writer was born.<br /><br />But still I read and imagined and dreamed. And I was doing just that when the new millenium dawned. It was a new century, the dawn of a new era. If ever I was going to write a book, this was the time. I believe that Millenium New Year's resolution is the only one I ever kept in my life. And if I hadn't had the brave, bold impetus and pure power of beginning on the first day of the 21st century, I don't know if I'd ever have found my courage. But I took that first step and then my muse, who'd waited inside so impatiently, stepped up, took my hand and led me across the magic bridge.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoh52yq-3WsCB_1WB0wAENThrRs4VhFJpE7Le4_ASm160SYxkWUuGihUfvpg6UPx8SrPgj7WLI4mJvpx5LH0CcDUjdGPGr6hyVE3XrgcVNmZ9nmJ_06f6Dc4y41emZyT5O5x1Sr8Xqhyk/s1600/brotherly_love_cover_lg-200x300.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719860968843958802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoh52yq-3WsCB_1WB0wAENThrRs4VhFJpE7Le4_ASm160SYxkWUuGihUfvpg6UPx8SrPgj7WLI4mJvpx5LH0CcDUjdGPGr6hyVE3XrgcVNmZ9nmJ_06f6Dc4y41emZyT5O5x1Sr8Xqhyk/s320/brotherly_love_cover_lg-200x300.jpg" /></a>The first book I ever wrote was <em><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#brotherly">Brotherly Love</a></em>. I wrote it on the already ancient IBM ThinkPad that had done its duty by surviving my oldest son. I'd plug it in and set it on the fireplace mantle. I'd sit on the floor in front of it and when my fingers started tapping the keys, my muse took me to a ranch in Texas. I started the book without a plot or a plan. I didn't know any of "the rules" and I believe I managed to break most of them. None of that would matter today but <em>Brotherly</em> was written in the bad old days, when the only way to get a book published was to find an agent who could sell it for you. So I did all the searches for agents and likely queried almost every single one who represented romance back in the day. I got a number of requests for and reads of my full manuscript by agents, but each one passed.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujziyy0frsn8ou0O1N7fDpHU8IRSwoptrAedMQg5lsKZu8xiZkMS2MoWbOhEF1TDM9f21lkEPnblsZHQJ-LqZn6Dwq8GNIY89bM12bm38cDjV_wce6ZNPR2rjLS1ibPa57rjtFZfnxMs/s1600/forever_series_bundle.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719861589433789474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujziyy0frsn8ou0O1N7fDpHU8IRSwoptrAedMQg5lsKZu8xiZkMS2MoWbOhEF1TDM9f21lkEPnblsZHQJ-LqZn6Dwq8GNIY89bM12bm38cDjV_wce6ZNPR2rjLS1ibPa57rjtFZfnxMs/s320/forever_series_bundle.jpg" /></a>I'd already started writing my <em><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#bundle01">Forever Series</a></em> because once you cross that magic bridge, you can't back track. But it was tough to find the strength to keep on keeping on in the face of so much rejection, especially when it was almost always accompanied by "this is a good story, but..." I finally realized the insanity in the query process. It took two (2) final rejections to show me the problem with having anyone's set of eyes serve as screeners for the vast and varied population of the world's readers. One literary agent passed on <em>Brotherly</em> because the book had a message. It had a theme of sorts and the agent said that would confuse romance readers. That perturbed me because this person was saying that romance readers weren't particularly bright. This agent made her living selling romance books to publishers. Her statement really bothered me, both as a writer and as a lifelong romance reader. She suggested that I query literary agents. When I did, one read either part of or all of the MS and rejected it because "it had too much sex in it and that would make literary readers uncomfortable".<br /><br />That was the straw that broke the back of a crazy writer who became the duck lady when she wrote a story about a girl who was "the oddest duck of them all" who got some help from Faeries to win her very own Prince... err... Laird Charming. (Pick up <em><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#faerie">A Faerie Fated Forever</a></em> and learn to love a duck like I did. <em><a href="http://quackingalone.com/blog/complete-list-of-e-books/#faerie">Faerie</a></em> is free everywhere.) Those faeries must've put some of their magic to work for me because I found a little site owned by a French company. It was called "Mobipocket." And I e-published my work on it. Anyone with a computer could download and read it - not that anyone much read books on their computers, mind you. But my work was out there and some folks did buy and read it.<br /><br />And then a little old American company run by a Wizard named Bezos bought Mobipocket and started using the mobi engine to build a brand new product - an ereading device that would change the world, the Kindle. Today every writer who is brave enough to step out onto that magic bridge can do so knowing that her work will reach readers. She knows that it won't wither and die on a hard drive because she can put it out in the vast, virtual marketplace via Amazon's KDP platform, Smashwords, PubIt, Sony, the iBookstore and, if she writes romance, through great sites like my newest publishing home, All Romance eBooks and OmniLit.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhNwepyX6o-G36pbv2LwqDCzNHlDx-aLlpyANaYEDVGSRqpCQdqEMPcJ7X0lPyTOdSBVFsYWi1c0bvdSLzxrJXod-NQ6yp2hV3tY-0A1iFogXjnR_g-2gF0xZ4Yz180JXCGzUQQsr4GPo/s1600/duck_bridge_01.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719862781819322146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhNwepyX6o-G36pbv2LwqDCzNHlDx-aLlpyANaYEDVGSRqpCQdqEMPcJ7X0lPyTOdSBVFsYWi1c0bvdSLzxrJXod-NQ6yp2hV3tY-0A1iFogXjnR_g-2gF0xZ4Yz180JXCGzUQQsr4GPo/s320/duck_bridge_01.jpg" /></a><br />My dream remains a work in progress because I'm not - yet- writing romance full-time. I still work as a scrivener at the law firm where I'm fortunate enough to work for a Senior Partner and with a couple of co-workers who are all very supportive. But I am still working on my dream, still traversing the magic bridge. And I've learned that a bright, shiny dream that only lives in your head never lives at all.<br /><br />We all have dreams. Whatever your dream is, it can never come true until you believe in it enough to get it out of your head and into your reality. So believe in yourself enough to take that first step out onto the magic bridge. Once you're bold enough to take those first steps, you might find the power to complete your journey. That will take you to a new reality - your reality - the one you choose, in the place you belong.<br /><br />SO, WHAT'S YOUR DREAM? HOW FAR HAVE YOU COME ON YOUR JOURNEY? TELL US HOW IT BEGAN OR WHAT YOUR PLANS ARE FOR TAKING THAT FIRST STEP....... We'll all cheer for you, I promise - even if one of the cheers sounds a lot like a quack from a certain over-the-top duck lady.<br /><br /><br /><strong>Mary Anne Graham</strong><br /><a href="http://www.quackingalone.com/">Quacking Alone Romances</a><br />Friend Quacking Alone on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Quacking-Alone-Romances/168511329826726">Facebook</a>!<br />Follow Quacking Alone on <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/quackingalone">Twitter</a>!<br /><br /><br /><h6><br /><b>PICTURE CREDITS:</b><br /><br />Magic Bridge<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/38544955@N08/3644613662/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/38544955@N08/3644613662/</a><br /><br />Dream Bridge<br /><a href="http://tonyakay.com/Blog/uploaded_images/alone,bridge,depression,dream,dreamy,girl,harbour,lake,moon,night,photography,photoshop,river,sad,sky,white,woman-baec3b5c4301636f28d9abda49fbe5f9_m1262585622-793446.jpg">http://tonyakay.com/Blog/uploaded_images/alone,bridge,depression,dream,dreamy,girl,harbour,lake,moon,night,photography,photoshop,river,sad,sky,white,woman-baec3b5c4301636f28d9abda49fbe5f9_m1262585622-793446.jpg</a><br /><br />Lawyer writing<br /><a href="http://law.wisc.edu/lrw/lawyer_writing.jpg">http://law.wisc.edu/lrw/lawyer_writing.jpg</a><br /><br />Duck walking on bridge<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOiNNfW2WlOWD_ft6n6zBsnN3OlTlzbsVYmin0Y6qlp9puxj80eXBGTOHXEpf08LijDc0DXPQ7sz48knRe1T7CZUedsTOtHjKy9AulGg5JimkIboa-skqYLHhLHj68OLF7JP9u_thdA/s320/IMG_0978.jpg">https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOiNNfW2WlOWD_ft6n6zBsnN3OlTlzbsVYmin0Y6qlp9puxj80eXBGTOHXEpf08LijDc0DXPQ7sz48knRe1T7CZUedsTOtHjKy9AulGg5JimkIboa-skqYLHhLHj68OLF7JP9u_thdA/s320/IMG_0978.jpg</a><br /><br />All other images belong to Quacking Alone Romances.<br /></h6>Mary Anne Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18002430141652464640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-86459444656572241652012-03-12T00:01:00.015-04:002012-03-12T00:01:03.730-04:00Beginnings: Why I Started Writing & How I Start My Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggSVMIgfq3sRaZwS8JJk1W1ihYPASjBnt5ItKdv1YzS9qJj_tl1ZnAEGLNVQVolOM0ubcLQ7hR-ai4SVV941MJaukNWJub_vIZqcpoJ4jp1akTLpiW0INABzwAEi4ETn5H2OISIfDiU04m/s1600/massdictraction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggSVMIgfq3sRaZwS8JJk1W1ihYPASjBnt5ItKdv1YzS9qJj_tl1ZnAEGLNVQVolOM0ubcLQ7hR-ai4SVV941MJaukNWJub_vIZqcpoJ4jp1akTLpiW0INABzwAEi4ETn5H2OISIfDiU04m/s320/massdictraction.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Spring is almost here...although I think we actually skipped winter this time (at least near Kansas City). New hopes, dreams, beginnings.<br />
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So, speaking of beginnings, I thought I'd write about how I started writing. It wasn't a like-long dream; in fact, my goal had been to be a teacher. I graduated from college and began my teaching career, teaching mostly early grades, K-3.<br />
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But while my life was rolling along with my job description as "teacher", I was reading books. Lots of them. First biographies, then Shakespeare (was crazy about his works and took a number of Shakespeare-offered electives in college).<br />
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Reading romance books came next...and I was hooked. I started reading regencies and historical romances, and love Barbara Cartland and Georgette Heyer. Eventually, I started reading romances involving seasons (especially Christmas-themed books), then romances that had children in their stories. From there, I branched out to contemporaries and finally, paranormal.<br />
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As a voracious reader, I trekked back and forth to the library many times. Bought tons of books, too. And once all four of my kids were teenagers at the same time for a three-year period, I searched for a sanity release.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqzR3MhapAx971KUcpkHH2Laywoyf9Ywg97v-RQUs1ROwblvy3od3LKuyffRxbaBE7wgL_BFeIKliCSEq6qIM5lpCIAUfzBx9KEsqFXRMvPQZQznoCDhROSgzTbh7aj1X5QcSQDbRAY8q/s1600/throgers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqzR3MhapAx971KUcpkHH2Laywoyf9Ywg97v-RQUs1ROwblvy3od3LKuyffRxbaBE7wgL_BFeIKliCSEq6qIM5lpCIAUfzBx9KEsqFXRMvPQZQznoCDhROSgzTbh7aj1X5QcSQDbRAY8q/s320/throgers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>In the back of my mind, I harbored this niggling thought about writing a romance book. Finding that this was the escape I sought from "real" life, I ventured into the world of writing.<br />
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Not knowing anything, I bought a book titled, "The Romance Writers Pink Pages" and used it as a reference. I sat and wrote a book called, "Three Strikes to Love" (yes, baseball was involved).<br />
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Using my reference "bible", I sent queries to agents. Two asked to see the book, one asked for a partial. Two rejections came quickly; the last one actually had some advice...put dialogue in the book.<br />
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Yes, I'd written most of it as a narration so obviously I was clueless.<br />
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I went to some weekend seminars/workshops on writing and met someone from a local Romance Writers of America chapter. Intrigued, I joined. And, thus started my REAL journey to my writing career.<br />
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After years of learning the "ins and outs" of writing and the industry, I finally published my first book in 2007. It was a long journey, but an interesting one. <br />
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My books, contemporary/paranormal/erotic romances, all start with dialogue. My feeling is that dialogue immediately draws readers into the action, and that first sentence or two has to be a strong hook to catch their attention.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZpagSjrvTqfPieNvG3weYLTYTIu0p0d2q_Llt7eUPUrNd3TqVqpdv_9_h1om3qo5Xjz6_qkwE758fFo_5IvjEXBKYi2oTzqff6XOhsjwNJdenZ4tRWClGOKp9wjpsQgX-pEHWQZsmrdI/s1600/9781419914881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZpagSjrvTqfPieNvG3weYLTYTIu0p0d2q_Llt7eUPUrNd3TqVqpdv_9_h1om3qo5Xjz6_qkwE758fFo_5IvjEXBKYi2oTzqff6XOhsjwNJdenZ4tRWClGOKp9wjpsQgX-pEHWQZsmrdI/s200/9781419914881.jpg" width="121" /></a></div>My favorite "first sentence book": <b style="color: red;">Gone to the Dogs</b>. I hoped that readers would be intrigued by this sentence: "Your dog ate your underwear." Actually, this happened to me...but it wasn't MY underwear the dog ate! Our dog ate my daughter's underwear...one sock and two thongs. Luckily, no harm was done, and the items...ahem...made their exit from his body. Scared at first and then relieved, I finally saw the humor in this scenario and wrote the book based on this sentence.<br />
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Beginnings for my other books (either Marianne Stephens or April Ash):<br />
MS-(Paranormal) <b style="color: red;">Second Sight Dating</b>: "I want him, not the other one you just showed me."<br />
AA-(Erotic) <b style="color: red;">Sexy Games</b>: "I hate this job."<br />
AA-Erotic) <b style="color: red;">Strip Poker for Two</b>: "I'm upping the ante. Bring underwear."<br />
MS-Contemporary) <b style="color: red;">Anything You Can D</b><b style="color: red;">o</b>: "Shit. Another message from that Minetti woman."<br />
MS-(Romantic Suspense/Time Travel) <b style="color: red;">Street of Dreams</b> (there's a prologue then this): "Take Murphy with you on this one. She's a nut about the decade."<br />
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Readers...do you like reading dialogue first? Writers...what do you consider when writing that first sentence? Share your ideas!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mariannestephens.net/"><b>http://www.mariannestephens.net</b></a><br />
<a href="http://www.aprilash.net/"><b>http://www.aprilash.net</b></a><br />
<b><a href="http://www.romancebooksrus.com/">http://www.romancebooksrus.com</a></b><br />
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Photos: Flickr: massdistraction and throgers photostreams<b> </b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934913775261743747.post-32059186474008733612012-03-10T00:01:00.001-05:002012-03-10T00:01:00.636-05:00March is all about beginnings...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMzxouDkst5Fjhwp5SEcX9AhUuyA-QHkcTrznjQhCynAewXcbXKDJccCK3wadpLrbq3ziWp24cOuu8sdxTEL3rqUSBzDYZtB-ahKvYFNan7-BLWFm8G6oMsBLBb7NQOP3ZbOC8mqWatU/s1600/cover+art+Blood+Gift+7+copy.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMzxouDkst5Fjhwp5SEcX9AhUuyA-QHkcTrznjQhCynAewXcbXKDJccCK3wadpLrbq3ziWp24cOuu8sdxTEL3rqUSBzDYZtB-ahKvYFNan7-BLWFm8G6oMsBLBb7NQOP3ZbOC8mqWatU/s320/cover+art+Blood+Gift+7+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716779088323753858" border="0" /></a>Beginnings. They can be as profound as the birth of a new child or grandchild, though that can come at any time of the year, as can the heady sensation of beginning a new friendship or affair. So what happens in March that signifies beginnings?<br /><br />I have to say, it's the first day of spring, with a welcoming sun beaming down in place of dark, forbidding clouds, even though they're usually not all that forbidding here in subtropical Florida. March is a time when my family members traditionally trek to the famous Parkesdale Farms in Plant City, Florida, to partake of huge, calorific strawberry shortcakes and stock up on some new and different flowers for our yard that grows more like a jungle every year.<br /><br />Along with spring comes my renewed enthusiasm for the fresh characters and new situations that will face them in my two new series for Ellora's Cave. The first is a contemporary western saga in the tradition, more or less, of the old nighttime soap opera, DALLAS, which I understand is starting a new generation this year on one of the cable channels. Each of the three books will feature one of the heirs to a Texas dynasty--the son and daughter of a JR-like patriarch and his bastard son who obviously wants a piece of the pie. Throw in a little BDSM play, some hot cowboys and a century-old feud. I'm excited about this series, and my beginnings this month will include putting together LOVERS' FEUD, the first of the three full-length books I hope will be coming out throughout this spring, summer and fall.<br /><br />Meanwhile, since I've promised myself I'll make the books in this series longer than my usual offerings, I've already begun my year of releases by bringing out another short story as an Amazon exclusive. It's "Blood Gift", an erotic urban fantasy that's a real bargain you can read in an hour or so, for just $.99.<br /><br />Watch my Facebook page for announcement of a couple of days this month where you can get "Blood Gift" free--and a month-long contest where my publicist is planning for me to give away a Sony Reader (Reader Edition). These events--beginnings of what I hope will be a productive promotional effort--should be happening this month.Ann Jacobshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18176748768155458312noreply@blogger.com0