- That’s right, just ask my big sister. She thinks I’m a bitch. Am I allowed to say bitch? Good.
But I’m not a bitch. I have a rather decent heart, despite the fact that my soul knows no empathy. Regardless, I just want to thank everyone for supporting me, purchasing my books, reading them and taking the time to let me know what you think of them. It means a lot. Even if you didn’t like them, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’d love to hear of areas where I need improvement. If you give me a bad review, I’m tough…I can take it. I might talk shit about you behind your back, but I’ll still appreciate the feedback. I love honest feedback more than fluffy feedback. If you purchased either book through amazon and read it, feel free to leave me a review.
Thanks again from the bottom of my (not very cold, but decent) heart.
There is a contest held by Amazon every year called the Amazon Breakthrough Novelist Award. They accept ten thousand entries. There are four rounds to the contest and the winner gets a publishing contract with Penguin and a $15,000 advance. The first round is based off of your ‘pitch,’ which I posted here about before. The results were posted today for the second round qualifiers and I MADE IT! They choose 2,000 pitches out of 10,000, so that means I beat 8,000 other entries. Un-freaking-believable. I was so sure I was out of my league, I didn’t enter until the last day because I wasn’t going to ‘waste my time.’ Now, round 2 consists of a sample of your manuscript being read by judges. Not sure what happens after that round, but again I’ve got that same ‘out of my league’ mentality, so I haven’t even researched beyond that. I do know towards the very end, the winners are chosen by reader votes. So, if by some miracle I make it even further, be prepared to vote if you read my book and liked it! But that isn’t until this summer. What a long, drawn-out contest. But a contest I’m still a part of.
Sometimes something comes to you and you just know. I think the issue I was having with the title of book 2 is that I assumed they needed to be similar. But…its a completely different book. Duh! So, with that said, the title of book two is ‘Point of Retreat.’ It won’t really make sense until you read the book. And even then, you will crinkle your eyebrows up and look at me bewildered and think, ‘but I thought u said it was a non-porn title?’
When I first published ‘Slammed’ to Amazon, the first thing that came up when you typed in my book was a porn. Luckily, that one has been knocked to the second page. But now that book 2 is finished and I’m still trying to come up with a title I love, I realize that pretty much everything else similar to ‘Slammed’ sounds like porn as well. Here are a few of the synonyms I’ve found…
Now, add ‘uglies’ to the end of all those words and you’ll see what I mean.
Maybe I should just go with the most perverted title I can think of in hopes it will direct traffic to my book. How about Slammed Harder?
That’s right! Book 2 (still trying to come up with a name I like) is now FINISHED! It’s being edited now and as soon as I get a cover on it, it will be complete. Kindle e-book version will be available for download on March 2nd!!! In the meantime, re-read Slammed for a good refresher!
So stinkin’ excited! And if you have any suggestions for a title to book 2, let me know. Afflicted just isn’t cuttin’ it for me. I can’t keep calling it book 2 forever.
Doesn’t mean I’m not writing SOMETHING. So close. So so so close to the end.
So…I have the best friends in the world. Sorry, but I do.
If you read my book, you know it has a few slam poems in it. Well, there is a slam poet named Marty Schoenleber who….I…LOVE to watch on youtube.
Yeah. He read one of my poems. From my book. Because he’s awesome.
Check this video out. And did I mention I have the best friends in the world? Friends who could make magic such as this HAPPEN? I’m so blessed.
In high school, people choose their friends based more on convenience than anything. Whoever sits next to you in class, whoever lives closest to you, whoever likes the same music as you, your teammates.
But when you get older, you choose people to be in your life for completely different reasons. You choose people you have things in common with. People that can relate to you. People you feel comfortable sharing a piece of your soul with.
Now, these people aren’t going to be 100% in sync with you all the time. Sometimes your friends will piss you off. Sometimes they’ll annoy the hell out of you. But sometimes….sometimes they will amaze you. They will love you. They will love your children, too. That’s why you chose them to be in your life. Because you love them, too.
A simple definition of friendship:
1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.
2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.
3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.
If this were really how cut and dry friendship was, then pretty much everyone would consider themselves friends. There are people out there I can’t stand, but I would still help them in a struggle or a cause…that doesn’t make us friends. Therefore, I’d like to add my own definition of friendship.
Friends: Two people that can find themselves at an impasse, but will navigate around that impasse, up the hill, over the mountain, and somehow hold hands on their way back down.
Cheesy? Maybe. But isn’t that what it’s all about? Being able to get over the hurdles of being human long enough to swallow your pride and remember all the great things that drew you to that person in the first place?
Grudges can be an ugly thing. You can tell yourself you are better off without each other, but in the long run you are only lying to yourselves. So please, do me a favor and let go of the hurt. Forget about it. Wad it all up into a ball and hang it from your damn ceiling and throw darts at it. It doesn’t do anyone any good. No one wins…everyone loses. I for one don’t want to be a spectator in a game where both teams lose. I’d rather it end in a tie.
So now the question is, who is going to grab whose hand first and walk them down that mountain?
I spent the entire weekend pouring over every single word of SLAMMED. I finally feel like it’s done. I can set it aside and finish AFFLICTED without feeling guilty. It feels good. That’s all I have to say about that.
So, my mother has been teaching my boys about prayer, positive energy and yoga. It’s really cute hearing them talk about it. I do worry about Bex, though. Yesterday after his moment of meditation, he said he thanked Jesus ten times for his birthday. Today when he got home, he said he meditated again. I asked him what he thought about and he said he wished that cheeseburgers didn’t make people fat. :p He has strange priorities right now.
All that said and done, he then explains he doesn’t want to get fat and breaks out in his favorite song and sings “I think I’m SEXAY” while he gyrates his hips. I worry about that one.
Is the superbowl over yet?
This quote has been attributed to Blaise Pascal, Mark Twain, Voltaire and probably many others as well.
The meaning of the quote is that if you have a lot to say, it’s much harder to condense it and make it meaningful than it is to draw it out. How accurate.
As I worked on the pitch for Slammed, I had to keep it under 300 words. If you’ve read Slammed, you know there is a whole heck of a lot that goes down. How do you condense 70,000 words into only 300, while at the same time having the goal of leaving people that read the pitch wanting to read even more? It’s tough. I went insane. I edited and second-guessed my pitch for four days straight. So much so, that I called my mother no less than fifteen times AFTER midnight last night.
I finally developed something I’m happy with…if I ignore the advice of the experts. You see, they say a good pitch doesn’t even need 300 words; that the better the writer, the shorter the pitch. A one sentence pitch that leaves the reader wanting to buy the book is considered genius. So, I dallied around with one sentence pitches and this is all I could come up with:
“Slammed is good, Nickelback is not.”
I think it needs a little more work.
If you want to read my final blurb, pitch, spiel, whatever….click on ‘slammed’ at the top of this page. And by the way, the book is going on sale for .99 cents tomorrow for a limited time if you have any broke friends that could use an escape.
You’ve all been so patient for so, so long while I went about my regular life. I was able to sit down tonight and finally cross the threshold into 36,000 words…which means I’m closer to the last word of the book than the first word. #Progress
And, now for your teaser.
Layken: “I’m serious, Will. The entire band of Nickelback were riding on top of the tour bus like idiots and an electric wire slashed all of their vocal chords simultaneously!”
Okay, that wasn’t really your teaser. I’m not injuring Nickelback in book two. That will come later. Now for your REAL teaser.
Will: “You mean you’re leaving me for an Avett Brother? What kind of tramp ARE you, Lake?”
Okay, cruel joke. Not in book two either. Here is your real, very real, authentic teaser.
“Lake, it’s nothing. I swear, it’s nothing.”
“I saw you, Will! It wasn’t nothing!”
(What not nothing did Lake see???)
I’ve always had this strange pet peeve, especially since I love creativity.
I HATE hearing about people’s dreams. Not dreams as in goals, but dreams as in the things that go through your head while you’re sleeping. I don’t tell many people about this pet peeve of mine because most people I would tell have told me their dreams. Therefore, I would be saying, “Hey, I hate it when you tell me about your dreams. So stop it already!” And then I would feel bad.
I don’t know what it is…maybe because I’m not big on fantasy. I’ve never watched “Lord of the rings” or read Harry Potter. Pretend things kind of annoy me. I’m more of a realist. That’s why my writing focuses more on things that could really happen.
So, with all that said, I would like to tell you about my dream from last night. I know, quite hypocritical of me…but I never said I didn’t like sharing my dreams, I just don’t like hearing yours.
I dreamt I was sent an email by Desi Arnas. I’m not even sure I know who that is…sounds like I love Lucy’s husband? Anyway, he sent me an email informing me that he tied two bricks to a balloon and let them float into space in my honor since I had cancer.
I have several issues with this dream. First of all, bricks can’t float. Second of all, balloons don’t float all the way to space, and last….I don’t have cancer. At least I’m pretty sure I don’t.
There. This revelation about my secret pet peeve is like a weight lifted off of my chest. And to all of you who have made me endure your dream stories without knowing this about me…I apologize because I was more than likely cursing you silently in my head.