Author's Posts

Craft Show (8)

I’m in the middle of edits for my new book. It’s exciting and scary all at the same time. I learn so much with each new editor. I always feel I finally have the editing process mastered. But, I don’t. (A side note to authors: No matter how you publish your book, you need a good editor!) Thankfully my publisher provides them and I am so grateful for that.

I know I write for only a small group of readers, and question why I keep doing it. Well, I do know why, I can’t stop writing. But sometimes it feels like a thankless job.

A few weeks ago, I set up shop at a craft fair. Before the doors opened, a young girl, who seemed to be about fifteen, strolled down the aisle. She stopped in front of my table and studied the books. She told me she loved to read and might come back and read mine. I thanked her and smiled while inwardly did a happy dance.

Fifteen minutes later she came back and asked if she could read some of the book. I told her to go for it. I sat and watched her read, set the book down and walk away. The earlier dance party in my head melted away.

Next thing I knew, she was back. Money in hand, she bought the first book of the series. She said if she liked it, she’d come back for the other two. She was a fast reader she informed me. Again, I nodded and smiled, but inside my heart raced. My mind was all over the place, “What if she doesn’t like it? Please like it. How long did she say it takes her to read a book?”

She helped her mom at a table further down the row. My niece, who kindly volunteered to sit at the table with me, spotted her reading. I couldn’t look. “Is she still reading?” I’d ask every now and then. “She has her head down, so yeah,” was the answer.

It was sweaty palms time. Would she be back? Would she buy the next two? I didn’t care about the money. I wanted her to like the book. Halfway through the craft fair, the girl made her next appearance. “I finished,” she said.

Heart pounding, I wanted to grab her and say, “Tell me everything! What did you like?” My niece calmly asked, “Who was your favorite character?” “Lindsey,” she replied. “Oh, interesting choice,” my niece answered.

Lindsey is my main character’s best friend. She is a good choice. Strong, determined, loyal.

Again, she walked away. My heart was now in my throat. Five minutes later, she was back, money in hand. “I want to buy the other two books.” The happy dance was back. She liked it. She really liked it.

We had a good conversation. I feel I can add her to my tens of fans. (That’s not a typo.) So thank you, fifteen year old girl from the craft fair. I will continue to write and hope someday more readers like you will find my books

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I’m glad I don’t teach anymore. Don’t get me wrong. I loved it. I miss the kids. I miss creating a great lesson. I miss the light bulb moments. The reason I don’t want to be in the classroom now can be summed up in three words—common core math.

I just watched an inspiring video on Common Core Math. A mother in a certain school district gave a well-thought out presentation to a group of officials as to why parents hate it. I gave her a standing ovation when it was over. She gave an example of a math word problem to the panel. One of the women answered the question after figuring it out in her head. The mom told her it would take numerous steps on paper to show the answer, many more than necessary. And that’s what children are asked to do, show those steps, instead of being praised for figuring it out in their head.

Math and memorization have gone out the window. No more training the brain to be a calculator. I’m glad I learned arithmetic the old-fashioned way. I even know how to count change back to a customer, not that it’s a needed talent anymore. The cash register does everything for the employee these days. But still, shouldn’t we all know how to do that? Math skills should be stored in the brain, not as a ten step process on two sheets of paper.

I have read up on Common Core Math. Not to bore you, or myself, here are some main ideas of what I found. There are no shortcuts. The math is conceptual, not procedural. When you get the answer, you have to be able to write out how you got there. And from what I can conclude, solving math problems are based on rounding place values to tens (or hundreds).

Not to criticize or critique, but I would like to emphasis not all children learn the same way. I had buckets of hundreds blocks, tens sticks, and ones cubes for hands-on sessions. After one particular good lesson, or so I thought, a child raised his hand. “I don’t get it,” he said. My first reaction was to think, “What? After that great lesson?” But I proceeded to take him to the chalkboard and demonstrate the same problem on the board. “Oh,” he said, “now I see.”

I am not an expert when it comes to this new math. All I can say is that I think it looks very confusing. We can all add 26+17 in our head. Got the answer already? Right, 43. That’s considered the wrong way.

This is the common core math way:

Break apart the numbers to make a ten.

Use a number that adds with the 6 in 26 to make a ten.

Since 6+4=10, use 4.

Think: 17-4=13

Add 26+4=30

13+30=43

There’s your answer!

I admit I found this popular example on-line and didn’t try to solve a problem myself. After reading through that given model, I didn’t want to. And I don’t have to.

But kids do. Every day at school.

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Buy Now at Black Friday Prices

Black Friday Preview Sale

Black Friday Prices Let’s Start Early and Save

Don’t Wait for Black Friday Save Now

Black Friday Now

Get Black Friday Prices Early

The Wait is Over! Shop Black Friday Deals Now!

Isn’t the idea of Black Friday to shop on one day? Friday? I knew it would happen. The sale already crept into Thanksgiving night and now it’s become a whole week’s worth of shopping. Just look at the headlines above. They were taken from ads in the Sunday paper and emails I received…before Thanksgiving.

First, let me be clear, I am not a shopper on that day. I stay home and put up the Christmas tree. But those of you who are, you have my most sincere sympathy. The thrill of the chase, the golden apple is being taken from you. Why get up early or stay out late when you can shop all week?

Good job, corporate America. You’ve watered down one of the best shopping days (for some people) of the year. I hope it comes back to bite you.

And by the way, I also hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving enjoying family and friends, which is what the week was about.  Really, it was.

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Oct 09 002

When we’re young, most of us want to be rich and famous. We stand in the middle of our bedrooms belting out songs, whether we have the voice for it or not. We dream we are on that movie screen playing the part of the femme fatale or the hero.

As time goes on, we learn that only a small percent of the population achieves those goals. We have to join the real world. Now a new race begins. A new home. The best technology. An awesome car. Things that all seem to cost money.

Life has taken on a new meaning for me, a new way of thinking. Yes, I am thankful for friends and family, good health and my home. But I’m also grateful for the simple things in life. I can look up at the morning sky, feel the warmth of the sun on my face, see the bright blue sky and be thankful. I try to gaze up every day, no matter the weather, and find something beautiful.  Dark gray snow clouds create a wondrous background to the bare trees of winter. The sun peeking through the morning mist hints of the day to come. My favorite is those white puffy clouds that look like cotton candy.

I won’t bore you with too many more of the simple things I’m thankful for. Maybe you can add to the list.

Sun sparkling off a new fallen snow

The golden leaves of autumn

A baby’s smile

The first buds of spring

Birds chirping

Yellow forsythias

The sound of water lapping on the shore

Sharing a bottle of wine with friends and family

Snuggling with a good book by the fireplace

Holding hands with my husband

Watching my son grow into an awesome young man

The simple things. Give it a try.

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Today I am part of a blog tour for the recently released Women’s Fiction anthology Frozen. I’m a little bias because one of the stories is mine. The anthology gave me an opportunity to write about Drew’s proposal to Kate from my Waiting for Dusk series. I had fun writing it.

It also gives me the chance to introduce you to some of my author friends and other authors I’m getting to know. I wanted to put a face to the names of my co-authors so you could get to know them better.  Tara Fox Hall and I have met in person. See us below! We were at the Finger Lakes in New York, known for its wineries as you can see by the glasses in hand.

Finger Lakes Vacation (27)

My other author friend lives a little farther away so it’d make quite the trip! Charmaine Pauls resides in Chile with her husband and two children.

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Someone I’m getting to know better is Val Clarizio. She’s great at promotion and a hard working author.

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Rhoda Brutt  Rhoda  and Elena Kane are Facebook friends. I’ve meet so many interesting people in this profession!

Nicole Angeleen   Nicole, Marilyn Gardiner  marilyn, Bess Kingsley Bess, Christina Kirby, and April Marcom  April make up the rest of the cast.

When the winter winds hit, curl up with a good book. You might enjoy a quick read from Frozen on a cold night. Pick a story, make some hot chocolate or grab a glass of wine. Our stories range from sweet romance to spicy so there’s a little something for everyone.

You can check it out here:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords

 

 

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I remember standing in my paternal grandmother’s living room being asked that question. Her neighbor came over to visit, took one look at my older sister and saw the family resemblance. She gazed over at me, studied me up and down and asked the question, “Who do you look like?”

I was quite young at the time, maybe five or six, and refused to answer. My mother always referred to that reaction as being a stubborn Swede. Stubborn Swede or not, I didn’t like the question. What did she care who I looked like? My sister was my sister and so what if we didn’t look alike? If I had the nerve I do now, I might have answered, “the mailman.”

Maybe that’s why, to this day, I have such trouble describing people in my novels. I’m always stumped when it comes to descriptions. I’m aware people want to know the color of the romantic lead’s eyes or the hero’s hair color. Is the character tall or short? Lean or has muscles? Then it’s on to the lead female character. Full lips? Flowing hair or cropped short? I could go on and on.

Descriptions are important in a novel so I started a folder of character traits. Whenever I come across one I like, I add it to the list. I found a website that describes eye color, not just the green, blue, brown but all the shades in between. Definitely a keeper!

All authors have their own personal stumbling blocks. Mine happens to be descriptions. It carries over to scenery and clothes, too. To help the process, I study pictures, close my eyes to envision my character, and write and keep rewriting until it flows. It’s a type of writer’s block and can halt the whole writing process.

I guess you’re wondering if I ever gave that neighbor an answer. I’m sure my dad wasn’t too happy with my silence and prodded me to speak. I remember that day as clear as if it was yesterday. I finally did answer the question, “Who do you look like?” I looked her straight in the eye and uttered just one word, “Me.”

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I just finished reading a young adult book that will remain nameless. It was released by one of the big publishers, has lots of reviews and is very popular. I wanted to read it because that’s what authors do. Read their genre. Get familiar with the competition.

Let’s just say, it was an okay book. The writing was surprisingly basic. Descriptions were sparse. No real suspenseful moments. I went to Goodreads to log the novel into my “Books I Have Read”. While there, I couldn’t resist reading some reviews.

According to the ratings (stars), the book had good reviews, but also quite a few low scores. There were thousands upon thousands of them… something I can only dream of. I scrolled down the first review page and was surprised how many one and two stars write-ups appeared. I started to skim through and had to stop and read a few. They summed up exactly how I felt about the book. The reviewers’ comments were well thought out and factual. After reading the book, I agreed with them.

As an author I could never give a one star review. I think I wouldn’t write one at all. Just leave it be. You know the old saying–If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. I know how hard it is to write and complete a book, let alone get it published. I also know how it feels when you get your first one star review. It’s a little like a knife through the heart. I know reviewers would say to toughen up and take the hit. It’s their right to review. I totally agree.

As I stated before, I’d give anything for all those reviews, good and bad. People are arguing over the character, plot and descriptions. They are talking about the book. They are reading the book…regardless, to see if everyone’s right. That author should be thrilled. I hope she is.

One thing for sure, she doesn’t have to worry about a one star review from me. I’ll leave that to the tougher critics. As a reader, I am on their side. As a writer, I’d say walk a mile in my shoes.

 

 

 

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What’s up with squirrels in the fall? What’s going on in their little minds? I swear they have a death wish. They dart out in front of a car at a moment’s notice.

I could write a story about them. It couldn’t be a  cute little children’s book because there might be a lot of blood and gore like a horror story. Spy novel? Mystery story? Possession? There are endless possibilities. These squirrels aren’t for the fainthearted.  They are little daredevils.

My husband thinks the squirrels are doing performance moves, like in the Olympics. They get scored on how well they did. He’s positive there’s a row of judging squirrels set up along the side of the road holding up scorecards.

The strange thing is that squirrels only do this in the fall. They also sit in the middle of the road and when they see a car coming, they don’t budge. They’re like deer in the headlights. Then, suddenly they dart to the edge of the street as if they figured it out. But wait, they turn on a dime and are right back in front of you. Some enjoy the “go, left, no go right, oh, I mean left again” routine. I feel they’re taunting you to hit them. Sometimes they sprint out from the side of the road at the last minute. That move I call the death wish.

In reality, there is an explanation. I just read an article in the paper about this phenomenon. Squirrels travel farther from home in autumn, looking for acorns and water supplies. They are not familiar with their surroundings. When they reach pavement or asphalt they become disoriented. So there’s the truth.

Still, I’d like to think there’s something more going on. When fall arrives, a brain cell ignites, giving the squirrel the ability to harass the humans of the world. They play with your mind, teasing you to hit them and feel guilty for the rest of your life. Maybe they’re hoping for a squirrel sanctuary to be built in their honor. Who knows what goes on in their little minds?

Whatever you think of the squirrel phenomenon, please keep your eye out for the little critters. And maybe next time you see a squirrel in the road,  you’ll want to create your own story, your own explanation of Why the Squirrel Crossed the Road.

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In a few weeks a new anthology will be released by my publisher. She put out a call for short story romances taking place in the season of winter. The book will be called Frozen.

Ten authors, beside myself, have written sweet to sensual love stories for this book. We now are putting our collaborative heads together to work on promo. What does that include? We’ve come up with a Facebook party, blog tour, press release and a giveaway.

Authors have to learn the art of promotion. It’s hard, to say the least, but has to be done. Some author friends have become experts, while others still are sifting through the challenges of Facebook and Twitter. I am learning and still have a long way to go.

Even though writing is a solitary business, promoting your book isn’t. Constant work is needed. The authors I know are a sharing bunch and willing to help. We have worked hard on the promotion. I will be featuring our book at a later date. But I didn’t want you to miss out on the giveaway.

I wanted to include you in the fun part of promotion. Winning! Readers love to win free things. Our rafflecopter giveaway has great prizes. $65 gift cards and copies of the book, Frozen. Just click on the link.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thanks for reading.

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No Wifi
Talk to each other!
Call your mom!
Pretend it’s 1993!
Live.

What a great sentiment. Much has changed in such a short time. I like that this coffee shop wanted to remind people that it wasn’t so long ago, this is how we lived.

I have one minor adjustment to the sign. I would add “Read a book” to the list.

And if the sign was true, picture walking by that coffee shop and looking in the window. In a small booth, a solitary figure has a book in one hand, coffee mug in the other. He’s immersed in the story, stylish glasses sliding slightly down his nose.

A group of four young women are at the table across from him. They are chatting, heads close together. A sound of laughter erupts from the circle and they reach for their cups, pausing from the easy camaraderie to take a sip. Once in awhile one of the girls glances over her shoulder at the man holding the book, checking him out. No one stops to look down at a phone or send a message.

At another table, two businessmen are having their morning coffee as they jot down notes for a meeting. They make eye contact, converse and nod, smiling as they are distracted by light sound of giggling as it travels across the room.

The place is alive with energy, not filled with silent pods of people—together or alone. No one is distracted by a text or call. They don’t have to stop midsentence in their story or ask someone to hang on for just one minute. The business meeting flows smoothly with no interruptions. The young man marks his place in his book as he slams it shut, ready to head for class. He gives a slow nod and an appreciative smile to the girls as he slides from the booth. The girls pretend not to notice, but the giggles begins anew.

You are still an observer, watching from the window. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed with a feeling. You just have to go in there, buy a cup of coffee and live like it’s 1993.

 

 

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