 Good morning peeps! Today at the League book club, I thought we could talk about technique stuff. Stacia is a great storyteller and here's why, she can weave together several experiences in a single book. Personal Demons is at once a tale of horror, adventure and mystery, romance and comedy. Let's discuss these cross-genre interplays and how the writer uses them to guide the reader on an emotional journey. Or... Wow, Stace is super manipulative. |
| (I'm going to list my ten, and you guys come up with some new ones in the comments!) 1. Study the fine art of cake decorating. 2. Squeal and leap on a chair when a spider runs across the floor. 3. Place potpourri anywhere. 4. Own Princess Diana commemorative plates. 5. Ice dancing. 6. Wait outside anyplace a celebrity is rumored to be inside, hoping for a glimpse. 7. Turn down a drink. 8. Worry about what other people think of them. 9. Butterfly collecting. 10. Wear sunscreen. |
| Yep. Plural! 1/3 of you correctly guessed that Caitlin was missing from the line-up. As an added bit of fun, most, if not all of us, will be posting the original photos we used on our own blogs. So...drumroll... Our grand prize winner: tetewa tetewa get the signed copies of Dead to Me, Personal Demons, Happy Hour of the Damned, Night Life, The Road to Hell, an ebook of Weirdly 2 featuring Jaye's story and assorted swag. Congratulations! But...wait...I've got so many signed books on my desk I'm giving more away to... macbeaner and bunny_b! I'm going to let you two race for first choice between Rachel Vincent's Rogue and Kim Harrison's The Outlaw Demon Wails. First to email me gets their choice. me (at) markhenry.us Go! |
Okay League readers, it's book club time. Seems like a while since Stacia through me one for Happy Hour and here we are chatting up Personal Demons. What could be a more appropriate time than during Demon Week? We won't be doing a spoiler thread until later in the week, so even if you haven't read PD yet, you might want to swing by just to chat with Stacia or anyone else, really. We're all usually just hovering around talking about Stacia, anyway.I did a review of Stacia's book over at my blog, so if you want to check that out, then clicky. But remember, this isn't a place for reviews, or whether you liked it or didn't. That's not the point. What is the point? Well, today it's all about the demons. Stacia served 'em up three different ways. You got your scary, sexy and comic all in one. Who was (were) your favorite(s)? Why? Let's get it goin'! |
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| Yes, folks, it was just a matter of time before it came up. I'm talking about that most dreaded word to a fledgling writer- frustration. OMG WTF BBQ??? I wanna be a writer! I'm writing, no one's offered me a deal yet.. should I burn my book? Should I rewrite my serious first person fantasy as a humorous third person military science fiction because one agent said so? Should you start another project while working on one? Should I give up writing all together?OMG! OMG!!! First of all, grab a paper back and take a couple deep breaths into it. Go ahead. I'll wait. A little better? Good. Second, have some chocolate. (Send me some too... not the chocolate in your mouth, the other!) I'm here to tell you that for the yet to be published, frustration and anxiety are literally a part of the job. I'm also here to tell you that for the published author, they are too, just in different ways. I hope that by hearing this it is of some comfort to you. Does it make it easier to cope when you hear that every last one of has or is going through some form of it? It should. For me, the best lesson I learned through all the doubt, frustration and anxiety was: what am I learning? We write a story. We think of it as our child, and it's hard to see it rejected or passed over or form lettered. Every one of those hurdles is someone kicking sand in our kids face and it's hard to contend with. During these times of frustration, I've seen a lot of writers rage against the machine that is the road to publishing, which I find totally pointless. What do they accomplish other than continuing to not get published? Instead, why not weigh what people are saying about your work? Don't take it as gospel, necessarily, but look to see if there is anything merit in it to be added to your work from what you are being told. Even now, I am in a constant state of learning with every word and book I write, so it's never too late. Let those people kick your kids, going back to my earlier metaphor! What doesn't kill them (your story), only makes them stronger. And a lot of anxiety also comes from artificial deadlines writers put on themselves. It's good to have schedules if that helps you keep on goal, but the publishing industry is at times a slow and laborious machine, and sometimes getting your work the attention that YOU want it to have simply won't happen in a timely manner. It's not personal, it's just the nature of the beast. In the meantime, learn. Pay attention to what is being said, let go of the frustration as best you can, and keep moving forward with your writing. Unless, of course, you are one of those people who shouldn't be writing at all because you're hopeless. Unfortunately, that is a topic for another day...! Labels: Anton, frustration, writers |
| Happy Mother's Day! And yeah, I'm a mom. Heck, I'm a freaking soccer mom, as yesterday proved: the Precious Little Tax Deductions both had their soccer games (at two different places), AND their team soccer photos. My boys kicked a...--um, tush--and Loving Husband and I are so proud of them. I can't believe these little people popped out of me. Then again, there are times when I can, because they know how to push all the buttons--and, if you believe Jackie's Mom (yeah, I know, I don't trust anyone over 40 either), I, shockingly, was a handful. From yesterday, an example of my kids being very good at being six and four: PRECIOUS LITTLE TAX DEDUCTIONS THE ELDER AND YOUNGER: **Throwing a super bounce ball in Tax Deduction the Elder's room and banging it hard enough to make the walls vibrate** ME: I'm going to kill them. LOVING HUSBAND: Don't do that. PLTDTEAY: **Bang, crash, emphasized with maniacal laughter** ME: I'm going to kill them slowly. Painfully. I may even feel guilty about it for minutes afterwards. LH: I'll handle this. **Walks to TDTE's room and glares with all the power of Daddyhood** TDTE: What? LH: I'll take the ball now. TDTY: **Hands LH the ball** TDTE: I've got another one, you know. So for those parents out there who are also reluctant adults, I give you... WAYS A PARENT CAN STILL BE A KID: Watch cartoons. Yeah, we had the classics back then -- forget the original Bugs Bunny, I'm talking Smurfs! And who could forget "Thunder, thunder, thunder, Thundercats"? But there's a lot of cool stuff these days too, like The Batman (not to be confused with Batman), and Ben Ten, and The Legion of Super Heroes. (Oh Lightning Lad, with your wicked scar and your sexay, sexay red hair...) Play games. And not just soccer and basketball, even though those count. We love destroying each other in Sorry (yeah, yeah, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, blah blah. Take no prisoners!) And Chutes and Ladders can be evil, baby. Evil! Listen to music. Imagine, if you will, my four year old belting out "Who, who, who?" to "Who Let the Dogs Out". Or my six year old, snapping along to "Mambo Number Five." I'm telling you, these boys are ready for college. (Er, no. No they're not. No college. And no dating. And no reading my books. Okay, I digress...) And of course, there's... WAYS A PARENT CAN FEEL REALLY FREAKING OLD: Watch cartoons. Specifically, Pokemon. WTF? Is this seriously a cartoon? ZOMG. Now I understand why my parents would roll their eyes when I would watch Battle of the Planets. It has to be a generational thing, because Pokemon makes no freaking sense, in any language. Play games. Specifically, computer games. What does it say about me that my four year old is better at every computer game than I am? (And no, "Early onset arthritis" is not an option, thank you very much. Don't you sass me, it's Mother's Day.) Listen to music. Specifically, on the radio. There's nothing like singing along to a killer tune from your youth, feeling darn good and nostalgic and all sorts of happy...and then the DJ gleefully announces at the end of the killer tune that it is 30 years old. (Okay, so maybe I shouldn't trust anyone over 50...) So what are you doing to still be a kid, even though you're also (reluctantly) an adult? Labels: Jackie |
