You know what makes me crazy? How few relatives have bought my book. Friends I don't care as much, I mean it hurts because I support them in every way but honestly, whatever. It's the family members who really get me. People who are bound to me by blood and are supposed to support me, DON'T. Cousins, uncles and aunts. Oh and lest we forget my grandfather. No no, he couldn't be bothered to buy my book. It just hurts. But I can't seem to bring myself to say it. My friend, Lesley, tells me that it's such an accomplishment to write a book and put it out there but...I think it's because of my family that I don't care. My mom brought it up and Thanksgiving and it was honestly met with a "Well, la dee dah" from my uncle and my grandpa's wife going "Well we just don't buy things on the internet. Maybe if it was in a real store..."
And it's times like that when I look at my friends who are adopted and want to know the people they are genetically bound to and say "You're better off without them." Because my relatives suck. The people I've adopted as my family are so caring and I love them. My best friends would support and defend me to the end of time. Whereas my extended family would be at the front of my lynch mob.
Not my immediate family. My mom, dad and sister are good, real family. But most everyone else...
Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Unexpected Preview
So this isn't one of the most exciting scenes or best written but it's one of my favorite interactions. I love the egrags. Hehe. Anyway, here's a snippet from chapter five of Unexpected Destiny.
*****************************************************
When Ely came to, he saw Faythe and Colin still unconscious. Narnyo and Hera were tied to sticks. Hera fought the binds but Narnyo was still, looking rather resigned. Peter was awake and trying his damnedest to get free of the ropes that held each of them to a post. Peter looked up and noticed Ely was awake. He forced a smile, so as not to alarm Ely.
“These creatures have us locked up,” he sighed finally. “I haven’t the faintest idea what they want with us.”
Ely looked to the creatures and realized that he was in a small village full of egrags. They were all dancing around, joyfully, and drinking. To the left of Ely he saw a group of younger females who giggled when Ely met their glance. The females were not nearly as disastrous looking as the males. They had long flowing red hair that was healthy and had a beautiful shine to it and the green splotches were almost an attractive quality to them.
Ely glanced over to see Colin coming to. He looked at the village in a daze and then looked to Ely. “They’re egrags.” Ely explained. Colin’s face didn’t change but he seemed to shrug, as if to say “Figures”.
Peter looked at Ely. “What are ‘egrags’?”
Suddenly, Faythe’s sleeping face turned into a smile. “Lesser demi-gods.” She began laughing.
“It’s not funny Faythe,” Peter said, “they have us held hostage.”
Faythe smiled. “What are they going to do to us?”
One of the egrags walked up to the four humans. “Well, one suggested that we eat you. The females have requested that they get to,” he cleared his throat, “save the males for…entertainment.” Ely and Peter’s eyes widened as they looked to the giggling group of females that then waved. Colin just let his head sink a little further. “We haven’t entirely come to a decision.”
Faythe was somewhat shocked. “You can’t eat us! We’re the Blessed Ones!”
“And you certainly may not use us for entertainment of any kind.” Ely added, yelling at the females who had now become bold enough to start touching him.
Some of them began touching Peter and Colin as well. While Colin just stared at the situation with complete apathy, Peter tried, vigorously, to get them away. “What do we do?” he screamed.
Suddenly, there was a small tizzy amongst the crowd as a small and familiar egrag approached the Blessed Ones. “Ermind?!” Ely and Faythe cried as he approached.
“Ermind,” Faythe called, “please tell them to let us go.”
A female hit Faythe over the head with a large staff. “We will not. Now stop speaking to my mate.”
“Wait, Sensira,” Ermind cried, “I do wish to have these non-egrags released.” He smiled at the mortals, letting them know that they had nothing to worry about. His mate looked at him imploringly. “I must, dear.” He looked into their eyes. “They saved me life. Perhaps all of our lives.”
A taller and fleshy egrag with a bushy red mustache waddled over to Ermind. “Is that a formal request?” he asked, in a husky voice.
Ermind looked to Sensira who held onto his arm. He smiled, nervously. “Yes it is.”
The tall egrag shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He then began to holler, “Town meeting!”
All but three egrags left for the sudden town meeting. Two females and a male stayed behind to keep watch over the four humans, the phoenix, and the wolf. Narnyo, who hadn’t said a single word, still hung there with a look of disdain upon his face. He wouldn’t lose his dignity attempting to break free.
Colin was suddenly faintly offended. “Town meeting? I thought that they were freeing us.” The male hit Colin with his staff.
“We’re a very systematic bunch,” said the first female. “Nothing happens without our entire community voting on it.”
The second female nodded. “Very efficient.”
“Oh yes very,” the first female sighed. “Things don’t happen very quickly, but they get done efficiently.”
“Ah,” Peter said, knowingly, “but you didn’t vote on capturing us and whether or not to tie us up, now did you?” The male now hit Peter. Peter and Colin exchanged a sympathizing glance between the two of them.
“Oh, but we did,” the first female sighed.
“Even on the type of knot we tied ye up with,” the second added.
“Yes, we make sure to vote on everything just in case.”
“We’re a very fair bunch.”
“Indeed. Now we must vote on whether to set you free or eat you.”
“Or use the males for entertainment,” the second added, blushing only a little.
“Oh yes, of course.”
Colin began to speak up but the male leaned his staff in the direction of Colin’s head and that shut him up. Faythe sighed, heavily. She was clearly not going to waste this entire experience. “Well,” she said, “how is it that you live in Intarshull Valley and yet you…”
“Live?” Colin and Peter offered both promptly receiving a thwack on the head.
The first female scoffed lightly. “Oh well that’s no problem there. Egrags are not very lucky to begin with. The bad luck doesn’t affect us any more than what we have.”
The second female shrugged. “Can’t help being lesser demi-gods.”
“Indeed. It’s not entirely our fault. We might as well make the best of it. Right?”
She looked at Ely, for his opinion. “Oh, quite right.” Colin and Peter awaited Ely’s mandatory concussion but the male didn’t move, except to scratch his large nose.
Is that so? Narnyo asked. I had wondered why this upside down universe seemed reminiscent of Itarshull. It is rather hard to tell as to where I am with all of the blood in my body entirely occupying my head. The male jabbed him with his staff. I’m not afraid of you. I’ll gnaw on your head again! Narnyo growled.
“Again?” Faythe sighed. “Oh Narnyo you didn’t.”
“He did,” the first female sighed. “Chewed on poor Alkarf’s head.”
The second female leaned into Faythe and Ely. “He’s the most unlucky of us all I’m afraid.”
“I blame his name,” the first female said. “A name really affects the rest of your life, don’t it? Take you for example,” she poked Faythe’s rib, “what is your name darling?”
Faythe stammered. “Uh…Faythe.”
The two females sighed, happily.
“Now there is a fine name,” the first female said to the other, “it says that the name-barer is a strong being with a sufficient amount of charm.”
“Wonderful name.”
“Yes wonderful. No one takes heed to name their children carefully anymore. They will be stuck with that name for their entire lives, after all, it might as well be a good strong name.”
Just then, the doors of the town hall opened and the “non-egrags” were rushed by egrags with knives.
*********
If you liked that then check out my book available on Lulu , Amazon and Barnes&Noble.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Time Waster
Alright, how about a post about me instead of my book or Ancient Astronaut theorists?
To say that the job market in San Diego is hell would be an understatement. Honestly, I've been out of work for three years. It's more than a little depressing. So I've been going to school to occupy my time. I'm really not the school type but it keeps me busy and productive. Last semester I was supposed to have a job so I only took one class. Surprise, surprise, the job fell through. So I only had a single class on my schedule. Mind you my room is now extra clean and I've been helping my grandma with various projects but it still wasn't enough to do.
This semester I had no illusions of a job so I was ready to sign up for classes. Now I'm taking physical anthropology, Japanese, dance and kick boxing. Mind you, dance and kick boxing will be in addition to my hard core pilates class. I have a feeling my body will be mad at me for the first few weeks. I've been keeping my body active. I do pilates and I would use the treadmill or do yoga at home (sometimes both if I was feeling energetic) but this is going to kick. my. BUTT.
I'm actually incredibly excited. This isn't just cardio kick boxing either. This is honest to goodness hand to hand combat kick boxing. I'm also really excited for Japanese I have to admit. I'm not a weaboo or anything. I've just found, through watching a live action Sailor Moon show from 2004, that Japanese clicks with me. I have a vague understanding of it. So why not add a language to my repertoire that's more useful than Latin?
Of course I'll obviously be working on Treacherous Summits as well. Which I should be doing now...but I have to go to the store. Wow, I am one big waster of time.
To say that the job market in San Diego is hell would be an understatement. Honestly, I've been out of work for three years. It's more than a little depressing. So I've been going to school to occupy my time. I'm really not the school type but it keeps me busy and productive. Last semester I was supposed to have a job so I only took one class. Surprise, surprise, the job fell through. So I only had a single class on my schedule. Mind you my room is now extra clean and I've been helping my grandma with various projects but it still wasn't enough to do.
This semester I had no illusions of a job so I was ready to sign up for classes. Now I'm taking physical anthropology, Japanese, dance and kick boxing. Mind you, dance and kick boxing will be in addition to my hard core pilates class. I have a feeling my body will be mad at me for the first few weeks. I've been keeping my body active. I do pilates and I would use the treadmill or do yoga at home (sometimes both if I was feeling energetic) but this is going to kick. my. BUTT.
I'm actually incredibly excited. This isn't just cardio kick boxing either. This is honest to goodness hand to hand combat kick boxing. I'm also really excited for Japanese I have to admit. I'm not a weaboo or anything. I've just found, through watching a live action Sailor Moon show from 2004, that Japanese clicks with me. I have a vague understanding of it. So why not add a language to my repertoire that's more useful than Latin?
Of course I'll obviously be working on Treacherous Summits as well. Which I should be doing now...but I have to go to the store. Wow, I am one big waster of time.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Aliens Made Me Write This!!!!
I am so tired of the Ancient Astronaut theory. I was irritated by it before "History" Channel decided to dedicate a show to it. Now that show sends me into hysterical rants (both funny hysterical and hysterical in reference to hysteria). Not familiar with the subject? Well let me explain.
There is a growing field of...ahem historians (though it's hard to call them that) dedicated to the belief that aliens have shaped our history. They explain many things in global history with aliens and they see aliens in inexplicable events from the past. There are groups of them who believe that those native to the new world were actually put here by aliens. They believe that many of the wonders of the world can be explained by alien intervention. The design for the great pyramids, the Colossus of Rhodes, Machu Picchu, Stonhenge and others can all be explained by aliens.
You see, aliens came down and told the ancient Egyptians where to build the pyramids because these coordinates lined up with constellation of Orion which meant something to the aliens. They also brought the stones needed to both Machu Picchu and Stonehenge. The belief that aliens actually PLACED Stonehenge has been mostly abandoned because there is evidence of human remains beneath the structure, said to be those who died during construction. They still believe that it is the only way the stones could have been transported there and that alien design is the only explanation for WHY Stonehenge was built because we have yet to fully understand it.
My favorite Ancient Alien specials are when they try to explain the Bible. No, I'm not kidding. Mind you I am not Christian but even I get a little offended by these. For example: they believe an angel didn't tell Mary she was pregnant with the savior of the world...no no...an alien spacecraft beamed it into her head. Or the story of Jonah. See, he was never in the belly of a whale. No, it was an alien spacecraft which was capable of going underwater. I'm not kidding.
They explain the great flood in the Bible with aliens too. This one is much more elaborate. They believe that Noah was the first of our species of humans (Homo erectus). He was born due to genetic experimentation performed by none other than the aliens who were trying to create the perfect specimen of human. They were doing the same to animals. The aliens knew that in order for their new alpha specie to thrive they had to wipe out all of the imperfect creatures. So they prepared to flood the Earth. Noah's Ark is actually explained as being a DNA container. This explains evolution at the same time. I wish to reiterate that I am NOT kidding. This is what some believe.
And they think that this brings logic into the illogical Bible. Really? Believing in God and Heaven and Hell is illogical but believing in aliens coming down and thoroughly shaping our history is logical?!? Again, I'm not Christian or Jewish and even I'm offended. What's more they explain the Jin of Muslim lore with aliens.
Here's the thing, I'm not so arrogant that I don't believe in life on other planets. Nor do I believe that there is no possible way they could have such advanced technology which would enable them to make it here. I'm naturally skeptical but I'm still something of a believer. That being said, these ancient astronuts make me sick (oh I know, witty word play. SOOOO original Ariana. Astro"nuts". Whatever.). They use aliens as a scapegoat.
There are two things the aliens are used for. One use is to excuse things humans have done. They excuse certain branches of mental illness with aliens. One story even claims that a woman was about to talk about something she knew to much about so the aliens gave her a stroke, rendering her mute the rest of her days. The second use for aliens is to excuse our own ignorance. They say that there's no way ancient humans could have come up with many of the things they did. The Mayans couldn't have come across their knowledge of math and astronomy on their own. The Egyptians couldn't have plotted out their pyramids without help. It's impossible for those in the Americas to have also come up with the idea of pyramid type structures. The Inca could not have built their temples to the Sun and the Moon so far up those peaks or designed their buildings to work with the mountains or taken the stones up so high without the aide of aliens. Because we as modern humans can't figure it out. We have television and cell phones and computers so we are obviously smarter than our ancient ancestors. Therefore they must have had extraterrestrial help.
Humans are surprisingly remarkable creatures capable of amazing feats. They can do horribly stupid things like slavery and holocausts for example, but they are capable of so much more that is good. Historians are supposed to keep the stories of our ancestors and dig around for more information. Instead these people are trying to discredit humans.
I don't doubt that if aliens could come here they might have had contact with ancient peoples, but does that have to explain everything? Really?
There is a growing field of...ahem historians (though it's hard to call them that) dedicated to the belief that aliens have shaped our history. They explain many things in global history with aliens and they see aliens in inexplicable events from the past. There are groups of them who believe that those native to the new world were actually put here by aliens. They believe that many of the wonders of the world can be explained by alien intervention. The design for the great pyramids, the Colossus of Rhodes, Machu Picchu, Stonhenge and others can all be explained by aliens.
You see, aliens came down and told the ancient Egyptians where to build the pyramids because these coordinates lined up with constellation of Orion which meant something to the aliens. They also brought the stones needed to both Machu Picchu and Stonehenge. The belief that aliens actually PLACED Stonehenge has been mostly abandoned because there is evidence of human remains beneath the structure, said to be those who died during construction. They still believe that it is the only way the stones could have been transported there and that alien design is the only explanation for WHY Stonehenge was built because we have yet to fully understand it.
My favorite Ancient Alien specials are when they try to explain the Bible. No, I'm not kidding. Mind you I am not Christian but even I get a little offended by these. For example: they believe an angel didn't tell Mary she was pregnant with the savior of the world...no no...an alien spacecraft beamed it into her head. Or the story of Jonah. See, he was never in the belly of a whale. No, it was an alien spacecraft which was capable of going underwater. I'm not kidding.
They explain the great flood in the Bible with aliens too. This one is much more elaborate. They believe that Noah was the first of our species of humans (Homo erectus). He was born due to genetic experimentation performed by none other than the aliens who were trying to create the perfect specimen of human. They were doing the same to animals. The aliens knew that in order for their new alpha specie to thrive they had to wipe out all of the imperfect creatures. So they prepared to flood the Earth. Noah's Ark is actually explained as being a DNA container. This explains evolution at the same time. I wish to reiterate that I am NOT kidding. This is what some believe.
And they think that this brings logic into the illogical Bible. Really? Believing in God and Heaven and Hell is illogical but believing in aliens coming down and thoroughly shaping our history is logical?!? Again, I'm not Christian or Jewish and even I'm offended. What's more they explain the Jin of Muslim lore with aliens.
Here's the thing, I'm not so arrogant that I don't believe in life on other planets. Nor do I believe that there is no possible way they could have such advanced technology which would enable them to make it here. I'm naturally skeptical but I'm still something of a believer. That being said, these ancient astronuts make me sick (oh I know, witty word play. SOOOO original Ariana. Astro"nuts". Whatever.). They use aliens as a scapegoat.
There are two things the aliens are used for. One use is to excuse things humans have done. They excuse certain branches of mental illness with aliens. One story even claims that a woman was about to talk about something she knew to much about so the aliens gave her a stroke, rendering her mute the rest of her days. The second use for aliens is to excuse our own ignorance. They say that there's no way ancient humans could have come up with many of the things they did. The Mayans couldn't have come across their knowledge of math and astronomy on their own. The Egyptians couldn't have plotted out their pyramids without help. It's impossible for those in the Americas to have also come up with the idea of pyramid type structures. The Inca could not have built their temples to the Sun and the Moon so far up those peaks or designed their buildings to work with the mountains or taken the stones up so high without the aide of aliens. Because we as modern humans can't figure it out. We have television and cell phones and computers so we are obviously smarter than our ancient ancestors. Therefore they must have had extraterrestrial help.
Humans are surprisingly remarkable creatures capable of amazing feats. They can do horribly stupid things like slavery and holocausts for example, but they are capable of so much more that is good. Historians are supposed to keep the stories of our ancestors and dig around for more information. Instead these people are trying to discredit humans.
I don't doubt that if aliens could come here they might have had contact with ancient peoples, but does that have to explain everything? Really?
Thursday, December 1, 2011
SALE
My book is on sale right now. 25% off with the coupon code "BUYMYBOOK305". If I've done this right (here's to hoping I have) all you have to do is click on the cover image and it'll take you to my book on Lulu.
I'm not sure who exactly I'm doing this for since no one reads my blog but it never hurts to advertise does it?
I should get back to working on the next book though. Treacherous Summits is, I'll admit it fully, a lot better than Unexpected Destiny. It answers all questions but one. It tells us what it is Assir truly wants, what has happened to Kirleena, what happened when Faythe was imprisoned, what is the complete destiny of the Blessed Ones, who is the prophetess Biliyotec and even some questions that those who have read the book haven't even thought to ask yet. I'm really proud of it so far, not that I'm embarrassed of the first book AT ALL.
The books just have this flow to them. Unexpected Destiny is about questions and beginnings. Treacherous Summits is about questing, largely for answers but also for allies and strength. The third book, which is being called Quiet Rebellions for now but the name is still up in the air, is about action. It's about taking the things they've learned, the people they've met and the strength they've found and putting it to good use.
I don't know...I find these things interesting.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Also..
Okay, opposing view of that review is this review which was not meant for distribution. It was meant to tell me everything wrong with my book so that I could prepare for real reviews, like Ms. Sylvester's. It...well, here.
"I love this book. There. I’ve said it. This is bar none the most fun I’ve had in weeks. There’s a Hunger Games feel to it, meaning it’s “young,” vibrant, and well written, and just when I think I’ve figured out what’s going on it surprises me. You’ve action—and the internal monologue is pitch perfect. The characters are delightful, engaging, and well considered. Chapters begin and end beautifully. The plot is seamless. The dialogue helps drive this book and its plot. There’s witty repartee throughout and the banter between characters is believable and lively."
There was more but it sort of contains spoilers. This reviewer also admitted, as I have also admitted, that there were some rough bits which made it obviously a first novel which, of course, it is. But anyway, it's nice to remember how many differing opinions there are out there. For example some hate Twilight, I don't like it but understand its value and there are millions more who cannot live without it. I love Maria V. Snyder books, my mother thinks they're okay and my best friend thinks they are dull, although I have no idea HOW she could come to that conclusion because they really aren't. Taste is a funny thing.
Okay, no more obsessing over one review. Also, if anyone ever actually reads this, might I suggest checking out the reviewer, Niko Sylvester, and her books. She's written several and, though I haven't read them, they seem interesting. They seem to be modern fantasy, fairies and the like in every day life. A very interesting genre I have always loved.
"I love this book. There. I’ve said it. This is bar none the most fun I’ve had in weeks. There’s a Hunger Games feel to it, meaning it’s “young,” vibrant, and well written, and just when I think I’ve figured out what’s going on it surprises me. You’ve action—and the internal monologue is pitch perfect. The characters are delightful, engaging, and well considered. Chapters begin and end beautifully. The plot is seamless. The dialogue helps drive this book and its plot. There’s witty repartee throughout and the banter between characters is believable and lively."
There was more but it sort of contains spoilers. This reviewer also admitted, as I have also admitted, that there were some rough bits which made it obviously a first novel which, of course, it is. But anyway, it's nice to remember how many differing opinions there are out there. For example some hate Twilight, I don't like it but understand its value and there are millions more who cannot live without it. I love Maria V. Snyder books, my mother thinks they're okay and my best friend thinks they are dull, although I have no idea HOW she could come to that conclusion because they really aren't. Taste is a funny thing.
Okay, no more obsessing over one review. Also, if anyone ever actually reads this, might I suggest checking out the reviewer, Niko Sylvester, and her books. She's written several and, though I haven't read them, they seem interesting. They seem to be modern fantasy, fairies and the like in every day life. A very interesting genre I have always loved.
Monday, November 21, 2011
The Review Is In...
The review has been finished. It isn't great and it contains a spoiler which is kind of major but it's out there. Whatever. I agree with her that it is definitely a first novel and all that entails. It's a little rougher than most because it's a first. However she spends about a third of the review complaining about the cover being plain and her inability to get over certain characters, like gods and monsters, having different type faces. The first one I actually had little control over but okay. The second complaint is...interesting seeing as how I am not the only or first author to do so. Tamora Pierce, for example, does the exact same thing.
But, when it gets down to the nitty gritty, she generally likes my book. She thinks it should go slower (although I think the speed is great. I hate drawn out books. Mine takes a few breaths to deal with subplots which is what an adventure fantasy should do. Just a different opinion which is what I wanted from this review.) but she likes the characters, the "lovingly imagined locale" and believes I have promise. 3 out of 5 stars. Grand.
I've been kind of blase about the review. I read it to my sister though who just went "Wow, that's condescending," about a couple of things. All in all, Rissa is taking the review personally and she didn't even write the book. Hah. Silly supportive sister. Alright. Off to get a milkshake and see my honorary brother, Philip, who will probably be as ridiculously supportive as Rissa.
Ms. Sylvester, the author of the review, if you for some reason see this I want to thank you for taking the time to review my book. I appreciate your perspective! :D
But, when it gets down to the nitty gritty, she generally likes my book. She thinks it should go slower (although I think the speed is great. I hate drawn out books. Mine takes a few breaths to deal with subplots which is what an adventure fantasy should do. Just a different opinion which is what I wanted from this review.) but she likes the characters, the "lovingly imagined locale" and believes I have promise. 3 out of 5 stars. Grand.
I've been kind of blase about the review. I read it to my sister though who just went "Wow, that's condescending," about a couple of things. All in all, Rissa is taking the review personally and she didn't even write the book. Hah. Silly supportive sister. Alright. Off to get a milkshake and see my honorary brother, Philip, who will probably be as ridiculously supportive as Rissa.
Ms. Sylvester, the author of the review, if you for some reason see this I want to thank you for taking the time to review my book. I appreciate your perspective! :D
Friday, November 11, 2011
Freak Out
So I'm a little on edge right now. My book has yet to go up on Amazon or Borders, as it should have already, AND I'm waiting nervously for my first review. I keep getting all antsy going "Gah! Why hasn't she written the review yet?!?" then I remember she only got it on the 5th. While one could read a book that quickly (I can read six in that amount of time if I so choose) I'd really rather she didn't rush through it and make a hasty decision about the book.
Or would I?
Maybe I'd rather she read it really really fast and had no time to notice how terrible it is. Hmm...no no! I want an honest review and....and I'm sure my book is good enough. I really hope that this is a normal thing for authors; fearing their book isn't nearly good enough and waiting for everyone to bash it and tell them they are worthless.
My friend Philip and my sister Rissa keep telling me that it's a good book and that it will do just fine. And I can tell when they're lying so they really think that...but is that just because they know me? Uggawug! I don't know.
And then the whole thing where my book isn't available on Amazon and the like is just freaking me out a little. It has me worried that something is wrong. I trust Lulu so it isn't anything like that I'm just worried that my book somehow didn't meet the global distribution qualifications (which it ought to have).
Okay, better plan. Write and DON'T think about these two subjects. Sounds good, yes?
Or would I?
Maybe I'd rather she read it really really fast and had no time to notice how terrible it is. Hmm...no no! I want an honest review and....and I'm sure my book is good enough. I really hope that this is a normal thing for authors; fearing their book isn't nearly good enough and waiting for everyone to bash it and tell them they are worthless.
My friend Philip and my sister Rissa keep telling me that it's a good book and that it will do just fine. And I can tell when they're lying so they really think that...but is that just because they know me? Uggawug! I don't know.
And then the whole thing where my book isn't available on Amazon and the like is just freaking me out a little. It has me worried that something is wrong. I trust Lulu so it isn't anything like that I'm just worried that my book somehow didn't meet the global distribution qualifications (which it ought to have).
Okay, better plan. Write and DON'T think about these two subjects. Sounds good, yes?
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Grinning Like A Loon
So I met Tamora Pierce on Sunday. Well...met is such a strong word. I listened to her speak, waited FOREVER in a line of people who reminded me why I hate people and then I stood in front of her with a stupid smile on my face whilst she signed my copy of Mastiff. Plus side, I didn't say anything stupid. As Ben Franklin once said "It is better to be silent and thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt." Although, I did notice her tattoos as we got to the front which gave my sister something to talk about.
Of course I COULD have thanked her for her wonderful writing or told her that she inspired me to be a writer. But did I? NOPE! Just stood there, grinning like a loon. She honestly gave me a look like "This girl isn't going to attack me, right?"
Listening to her speak was so amazing though. She described a lot of her process and the things she does to people in her life and it sounded a lot like me. If nothing else, she admitted to conferring with her characters just as I do. The way she comes at her husband when she has gaps in her stories is exactly like what I put my sister through. OH, and she too collects weapons which she messes around with. It was neat to know that I may be crazy but at least I'm the same brand of crazy as a very successful and well loved author. It gives me a moderate amount of hope.
Of course I COULD have thanked her for her wonderful writing or told her that she inspired me to be a writer. But did I? NOPE! Just stood there, grinning like a loon. She honestly gave me a look like "This girl isn't going to attack me, right?"
Listening to her speak was so amazing though. She described a lot of her process and the things she does to people in her life and it sounded a lot like me. If nothing else, she admitted to conferring with her characters just as I do. The way she comes at her husband when she has gaps in her stories is exactly like what I put my sister through. OH, and she too collects weapons which she messes around with. It was neat to know that I may be crazy but at least I'm the same brand of crazy as a very successful and well loved author. It gives me a moderate amount of hope.
Friday, October 21, 2011
My Tease of a Muse and Shri Devi
I hate this period of time. In my writing that is. I'm at that point in my writing wherein something major has happened. It was big, awesome and beautiful. Now I'm stumped concerning how to get to the next major event. It's so annoying and it's the reason why I've been drawing, playing games and listening to music rather than writing. (Alright, I listen to music in an attempt to fuel the writing but still...)
My muse, as previously stated in poetical form, is a tease. She keeps me up late, pleading for her to give me that smidgen of information I need in order to progress, when I should be in bed resting up for pilates. She drives me crazy. She is why I wrote that poem about poetry reading hipsters. She is the reason I accidentally wrote poetry about this sculpture I was looking at today. No really, it was an accident.
I was writing about this beautiful bronze statue of the Hindu goddess Shri Devi for art class. I started writing a about her posture, her figure and her expression. Next thing I know, it is randomly poetic. "Scantily clad goddess/ Clinging clothe etched into her thighs" rot like that. Although the statue was beautiful. She was the picture of fertility (with breasts swollen with milk and her hip popped to the side as though she were holding a child) and also sexuality (said breasts covered at the nipple by a small band, an open and inviting stance and a seductive expression on her face). Seriously, this little statue was amazing. But was it worth my muse possibly exerting all of her energy? NO! At least not as far as I'm concerned.
Anyway, enough about her. I should be off to bed since it is well after 5am. Just to drive my point about my muse home, this is a normal bedtime for me. BLUGH!
My muse, as previously stated in poetical form, is a tease. She keeps me up late, pleading for her to give me that smidgen of information I need in order to progress, when I should be in bed resting up for pilates. She drives me crazy. She is why I wrote that poem about poetry reading hipsters. She is the reason I accidentally wrote poetry about this sculpture I was looking at today. No really, it was an accident.
I was writing about this beautiful bronze statue of the Hindu goddess Shri Devi for art class. I started writing a about her posture, her figure and her expression. Next thing I know, it is randomly poetic. "Scantily clad goddess/ Clinging clothe etched into her thighs" rot like that. Although the statue was beautiful. She was the picture of fertility (with breasts swollen with milk and her hip popped to the side as though she were holding a child) and also sexuality (said breasts covered at the nipple by a small band, an open and inviting stance and a seductive expression on her face). Seriously, this little statue was amazing. But was it worth my muse possibly exerting all of her energy? NO! At least not as far as I'm concerned.
Anyway, enough about her. I should be off to bed since it is well after 5am. Just to drive my point about my muse home, this is a normal bedtime for me. BLUGH!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
The Result of Poets
A poetry reading in someone's side yard
Oh this will be a treat
It's literally a patch of grass
Surrounded by a white picket fence and
Lit by tiki torches and a porch light
I walk through the squeaky gate
(I feel they purposefully don't oil it
Because they ironically enjoy the squeak)
I find myself lost in a sea of flannel
And thick rimmed glasses
The girls all wear
The same sort of things
Full length skirts catch on their "vintage"
High heeled boots
And they wear their pleather jackets with pride,
Flipping about their jaggedly cut hair
Which has been styled to look like they don't care
No doubt with enough hairspray
To leave a carbon footprint greater than
Any industry about which they rant
While the women are similar
The men are exactly the same
Cardboard cutouts of the same manboy
Prance around the little yard
Sporting the same porn star mustache
Skinny legged jeans, leaving little to the imagination
And little to be desired
I could look past the fashion, but oh,
To hear them talk
Causes me physical pain
Such general statements are tossed about:
"Oh don't get me started on the economy"
"Fucking Bush man!"
"Yeah, it's so environmentally sound"
Then they swig on cheap beer and wine
And act like the silence where there should be an explanation
Is meaningful
Pretension so thick
You could cut it with a knife
Though perhaps a razor blade would be more apropos
When the poetry actually begins
I sink into the little lawn chair,
As it sinks into the over watered lawn,
Perhaps it feels the same despair
The hostess approaches the mic
Only moderately drunk
And speaks into it as if she is
A DJ on NPR
She speaks with her lips to the mic
Like she's giving it a sloppy kiss
And keeps her voice low and soft
She brings up the first poet and
My hope is renewed
Her work flows like a constant rushing stream
And her imagery draws me into
This person she's describing and I find
I almost love him too
Her poems are lovely
But end too soon
The hostess, a bit more drunk than before,
Announces the next poet like she
Is the love of her life
Then my hope is squashed by a girl
Who thinks that her phrasing
Is elegant with a comical twist
She thinks a wry smile and throaty laughter
Make up for her lack of original thought
So continues the progression
Of plainly petrifying poets who
Pronounce pedestrian pieces
And pretend they are perplexing and profound
And the hostess, god love her,stumbles toward the mic
Poet after poet
Drink after drink
And so this waste of a night
Filled me with a frightful urge
To write
Oh this will be a treat
It's literally a patch of grass
Surrounded by a white picket fence and
Lit by tiki torches and a porch light
I walk through the squeaky gate
(I feel they purposefully don't oil it
Because they ironically enjoy the squeak)
I find myself lost in a sea of flannel
And thick rimmed glasses
The girls all wear
The same sort of things
Full length skirts catch on their "vintage"
High heeled boots
And they wear their pleather jackets with pride,
Flipping about their jaggedly cut hair
Which has been styled to look like they don't care
No doubt with enough hairspray
To leave a carbon footprint greater than
Any industry about which they rant
While the women are similar
The men are exactly the same
Cardboard cutouts of the same manboy
Prance around the little yard
Sporting the same porn star mustache
Skinny legged jeans, leaving little to the imagination
And little to be desired
I could look past the fashion, but oh,
To hear them talk
Causes me physical pain
Such general statements are tossed about:
"Oh don't get me started on the economy"
"Fucking Bush man!"
"Yeah, it's so environmentally sound"
Then they swig on cheap beer and wine
And act like the silence where there should be an explanation
Is meaningful
Pretension so thick
You could cut it with a knife
Though perhaps a razor blade would be more apropos
When the poetry actually begins
I sink into the little lawn chair,
As it sinks into the over watered lawn,
Perhaps it feels the same despair
The hostess approaches the mic
Only moderately drunk
And speaks into it as if she is
A DJ on NPR
She speaks with her lips to the mic
Like she's giving it a sloppy kiss
And keeps her voice low and soft
She brings up the first poet and
My hope is renewed
Her work flows like a constant rushing stream
And her imagery draws me into
This person she's describing and I find
I almost love him too
Her poems are lovely
But end too soon
The hostess, a bit more drunk than before,
Announces the next poet like she
Is the love of her life
Then my hope is squashed by a girl
Who thinks that her phrasing
Is elegant with a comical twist
She thinks a wry smile and throaty laughter
Make up for her lack of original thought
So continues the progression
Of plainly petrifying poets who
Pronounce pedestrian pieces
And pretend they are perplexing and profound
And the hostess, god love her,stumbles toward the mic
Poet after poet
Drink after drink
And so this waste of a night
Filled me with a frightful urge
To write
Monday, October 10, 2011
SOMEONE PULLED THE UNDERWIRE OUT OF MY BRA (metaphorically speaking.)
You know, I spent many years writing my book and then a couple of years trying to get it published. All the while everyone I knew kept saying "Let me know when it's published. I'd love to read it!" Now I know they were liars. Oh everyone wants to be so supportive when you're trying to make something happen, but when you make it happen all the support fades away. It's like the opposite of any story about people getting rich or famous.
"No one believed in me and then I made my first album and suddenly I was surrounded by people saying that they knew I could do it."
How did I get the crap end of this deal? It's like somebody pulled the underwire out of my bra and now the girls are freefalling. (Which would be very uncomfortable considering.)
You know I never wanted to have my book do well, to be quite honest. I just wanted to be able to share it with my family and friends. I wanted people who knew me to take a good look at it and go "Wow, Ariana is seriously self-impressed!" Or maybe they'd look at it and understand me a little. But instead my book is doing just as well as I am. People feign interest and don't bother to look beneath the surface. It's more than a little frustrating.
ON THE OTHER HAND, I've found out what people are really cool and actually supportive. My great aunt bought four copies! My great grandmother (who is actually my step great grandmother so I wasn't sure if she'd even care) has a copy and is dying to read it because "I watched her grow up. Of course I want to see how she's done." My cousin David bought the book but was repaid for his support by having FedEx LOSE IT. Then of course there are Marcy, Jaime and Shaina who aren't related to me or anything and bought copies basically just to be supportive. These are my favorite people.
Of course I understand the people who can't afford to buy my book. My one friend who is having issues finding a job and a place to live keeps apologising because she hasn't bought my book yet. "I promise I'll buy it as soon as I can! I can't wait to read it!!!"
Honestly....I'd prefer it if she could afford to live. I'll give her the damn book if she wants to read it. It's just annoying to have all this support I once had completely withdrawn from me. People who encouraged me to publish myself if agents wouldn't do it. At this rate I will never be able to repay the loan my grandparents gave me. And I feel bad complaining about it. I feel like it makes me seem like a selfish brat but I can't help but feel this way.
Bluh.
"No one believed in me and then I made my first album and suddenly I was surrounded by people saying that they knew I could do it."
How did I get the crap end of this deal? It's like somebody pulled the underwire out of my bra and now the girls are freefalling. (Which would be very uncomfortable considering.)
You know I never wanted to have my book do well, to be quite honest. I just wanted to be able to share it with my family and friends. I wanted people who knew me to take a good look at it and go "Wow, Ariana is seriously self-impressed!" Or maybe they'd look at it and understand me a little. But instead my book is doing just as well as I am. People feign interest and don't bother to look beneath the surface. It's more than a little frustrating.
ON THE OTHER HAND, I've found out what people are really cool and actually supportive. My great aunt bought four copies! My great grandmother (who is actually my step great grandmother so I wasn't sure if she'd even care) has a copy and is dying to read it because "I watched her grow up. Of course I want to see how she's done." My cousin David bought the book but was repaid for his support by having FedEx LOSE IT. Then of course there are Marcy, Jaime and Shaina who aren't related to me or anything and bought copies basically just to be supportive. These are my favorite people.
Of course I understand the people who can't afford to buy my book. My one friend who is having issues finding a job and a place to live keeps apologising because she hasn't bought my book yet. "I promise I'll buy it as soon as I can! I can't wait to read it!!!"
Honestly....I'd prefer it if she could afford to live. I'll give her the damn book if she wants to read it. It's just annoying to have all this support I once had completely withdrawn from me. People who encouraged me to publish myself if agents wouldn't do it. At this rate I will never be able to repay the loan my grandparents gave me. And I feel bad complaining about it. I feel like it makes me seem like a selfish brat but I can't help but feel this way.
Bluh.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
I Hired My Sister....OH THE HUMANITY!
It's true! I knew I was going to be a writer at the ripe age of two. So I made a few calls and figured out how babies were made. It was difficult talking the stork into letting me pick out my own baby sister but I was a smooth talker in those days. From October of 1991 onward, I trained her. It seems to be paying off too since basically only her friends have bought my book.So now the world knows the secret of my little sister, Rissa. She's actually a hired professional. I've been keeping this a secret for twenty years but I cannot continue with the lie. I'm sorry everyone. I think I may have to return her now. Or does this void the thirty year warranty?
Saturday, September 24, 2011
New Directions
I finally did the thing that I was so certain I wouldn't do. I used Lulu and published my book my own damn self! (Hold your applause all....none of you.) I got fed up with leaving my destiny in the hands of agents with dollar signs in their eyes (not a fair generalization but this is my blog!), took out a small loan from my grandparents and took off.
I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to say how great Lulu is. I was completely in control of my project the whole time, in touch with my "project coordinator" Ken on a fairly regular basis and yet I was able to rely on them for all of the hard stuff.
Of course, no matter how great Lulu was I was still plagued with my inner writer. She's horrible and angsty. She kept trying to convince me that I'd made a big mistake as an artist. She told me that no one would take my book seriously or respect me because I had to publish my book on my own. She kept trying to convince me that I couldn't do this on my own. See? Isn't she a horrible bitch? Then, my proof copy came in the mail. I opened the package and saw the beautiful cover, my decent picture on the back and my name on the front. That was pretty nice. Then I opened the book and saw my words. I almost cried. Suddenly it didn't matter that I published my own book. What mattered was that it was here in hard copy. I may or may not have snuggled it.
My shame and self doubt was renewed when I realized that it was available on Lulu.com but wouldn't be available on Amazon or the like for another month or so. Then I was wondering "Should I tell people or should I wait until it's on Amazon?" So I showed one of my best friends, Philip, that it was available on Lulu and he went NUTS! He was so excited and enthusiastic! Suddenly it didn't matter how I'd published it, just that it was out there and I could get people to see it since all I ever wanted was to share these characters and this story.
I continued fretting, of course. Philip said, "No! No self doubt! Tell that bitch to get out of here!"
"But," I said, "it makes things easier. See, it lowers my expectations.
"No," Philip insisted. "You should have high expectations."
"But this way I can see that I've sold four copies of my book and, instead of crying, say 'Hooray! That's twice what I thought I'd sell!' Then I skip away."
Philip paused. "I see no flaw to this logic. Doubt away!"
Then I told everyone in the world (okay, all of my facebook friends) about my book. People were all kinds of supportive telling me how awesome it is but they can't afford to buy a book right now (blah blah blah! LIARS! lol). Of course, despite the fact that I didn't buy a publicity package I have....a publicity system. My friend Philip, sister Rissa, cousin Jenelle, aunt Lauria and mother (LaDonna, since they all got their names) all began advertising my book like my own PR firm. Then two of my sister's friends, Hugo and Ryan, also posted the link to my book. My grandparents have possibly e-mailed everyone they know and my aunt Carole (grandfather's sister) has bought copies for people she's been telling about my book. I couldn't have more support if I tried. They are all so awesome.
So now I'm....moderately pumped and I figured I should bring my blog back but send it in a new direction. I can't do this serious thing I've been doing. I'M NOT A SERIOUS PERSON! I am a person who sat in my sister's room just a few hours ago making juvenile jokes about male genitalia. I'm not a grown up. I don't even pretend to be one in life, why should I pretend that much on a blog that nobody reads?!?! I mean, I know why I did it before. I was looking for an agent. Well the hell with that! I choose not to care anymore.
I say good day! (or good night as the case may be.)
I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to say how great Lulu is. I was completely in control of my project the whole time, in touch with my "project coordinator" Ken on a fairly regular basis and yet I was able to rely on them for all of the hard stuff.
Of course, no matter how great Lulu was I was still plagued with my inner writer. She's horrible and angsty. She kept trying to convince me that I'd made a big mistake as an artist. She told me that no one would take my book seriously or respect me because I had to publish my book on my own. She kept trying to convince me that I couldn't do this on my own. See? Isn't she a horrible bitch? Then, my proof copy came in the mail. I opened the package and saw the beautiful cover, my decent picture on the back and my name on the front. That was pretty nice. Then I opened the book and saw my words. I almost cried. Suddenly it didn't matter that I published my own book. What mattered was that it was here in hard copy. I may or may not have snuggled it.
My shame and self doubt was renewed when I realized that it was available on Lulu.com but wouldn't be available on Amazon or the like for another month or so. Then I was wondering "Should I tell people or should I wait until it's on Amazon?" So I showed one of my best friends, Philip, that it was available on Lulu and he went NUTS! He was so excited and enthusiastic! Suddenly it didn't matter how I'd published it, just that it was out there and I could get people to see it since all I ever wanted was to share these characters and this story.
I continued fretting, of course. Philip said, "No! No self doubt! Tell that bitch to get out of here!"
"But," I said, "it makes things easier. See, it lowers my expectations.
"No," Philip insisted. "You should have high expectations."
"But this way I can see that I've sold four copies of my book and, instead of crying, say 'Hooray! That's twice what I thought I'd sell!' Then I skip away."
Philip paused. "I see no flaw to this logic. Doubt away!"
Then I told everyone in the world (okay, all of my facebook friends) about my book. People were all kinds of supportive telling me how awesome it is but they can't afford to buy a book right now (blah blah blah! LIARS! lol). Of course, despite the fact that I didn't buy a publicity package I have....a publicity system. My friend Philip, sister Rissa, cousin Jenelle, aunt Lauria and mother (LaDonna, since they all got their names) all began advertising my book like my own PR firm. Then two of my sister's friends, Hugo and Ryan, also posted the link to my book. My grandparents have possibly e-mailed everyone they know and my aunt Carole (grandfather's sister) has bought copies for people she's been telling about my book. I couldn't have more support if I tried. They are all so awesome.
So now I'm....moderately pumped and I figured I should bring my blog back but send it in a new direction. I can't do this serious thing I've been doing. I'M NOT A SERIOUS PERSON! I am a person who sat in my sister's room just a few hours ago making juvenile jokes about male genitalia. I'm not a grown up. I don't even pretend to be one in life, why should I pretend that much on a blog that nobody reads?!?! I mean, I know why I did it before. I was looking for an agent. Well the hell with that! I choose not to care anymore.
I say good day! (or good night as the case may be.)
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Confidence
I guess I took a little break. I haven't been too...sure of myself as of late. I've had overwhelming fears telling me that maybe I'm never going to have an agent want to represent me. It's a shame because now I know that people do like my writing. I have, and I'm not entirely proud of this, written a story on fanfiction. It wasn't real fanfiction to be quite honest. It was moderately based around the science and religion of PC and KristenCast's House of Night series. But I added my own mythology and changed some things. I didn't steal their characters like most do. I just...got inspired by the idea of their books being based in fact.
Long to short (too late, I know) I wrote a pretty amazing story that a lot of people read. I was actually pretty surprised by my readers. When you think fanfiction you think lame romance stories about characters and people who can't think for themselves enough to create their own characters and circumstance (though I have read a few that are the exceptions). My readers were actually pretty smart and passionate about my story. It confused me a little but ultimately gave me confidence.
Contrary to the claims of agents, I do write what the people want to read. I just don't write what they assume people want to read. This makes me feel wonderful about my writing but terrible about my prospects in terms of being published. So what do I do? Selfpublishing? That does not seem like a great option.
Oh well, I'll keep working on this paranormal/urban fantasy book I've been working on since September or so. Maybe it will get my foot in the door and I can get my baby published. I feel like the little engine sometimes. Between writing and school. I just keep chanting to myself "I think I can. I think I can." and hope that it's true.
Long to short (too late, I know) I wrote a pretty amazing story that a lot of people read. I was actually pretty surprised by my readers. When you think fanfiction you think lame romance stories about characters and people who can't think for themselves enough to create their own characters and circumstance (though I have read a few that are the exceptions). My readers were actually pretty smart and passionate about my story. It confused me a little but ultimately gave me confidence.
Contrary to the claims of agents, I do write what the people want to read. I just don't write what they assume people want to read. This makes me feel wonderful about my writing but terrible about my prospects in terms of being published. So what do I do? Selfpublishing? That does not seem like a great option.
Oh well, I'll keep working on this paranormal/urban fantasy book I've been working on since September or so. Maybe it will get my foot in the door and I can get my baby published. I feel like the little engine sometimes. Between writing and school. I just keep chanting to myself "I think I can. I think I can." and hope that it's true.
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