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Hope everyone has a fantastic day, and a wonderful weekend.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author ~ ~ ~ writing and streams of consciousness
Friday, July 30, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Excerpt - Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
For most it was a typical winter night in North Dakota. Cruel and harsh, with merciless winds. And fierce cold that chilled to the bone.
For others it was the beginning of an ancient battle. The nightmares of tortured minds.
Charity Froste closed her eyes. She could see the huge ugly bird as it descended. Red eyes glowing like the embers of fire. Snow white fangs that devoured everything in its path.
The wind howled, shrieked and sent forth blood-chilling screams. Tree limbs slapped and scraped the sides of the house, like the huge bird’s dagger-like talons.
The bones never lied.
Charity tossed the fossil stones, her eyes still closed. She would not easily be devoured. The white fangs, red eyes and razor sharp talons of the Piasa held no fear for her. She had faced it before. She feared little beyond the balance. And the balance had shifted. Billy had called the white wolf, weaved the dreams, and she had done what she had to do.
A distinct chill blew across her nape.
She opened her eyes, studied the bones. The bones never lied.
“Sure wish you was here, honey chile.”
Charity smiled at the huge painting of Marie Leveau, hanging just above the dining room mantle. Now there was a woman to be reckoned with. The most powerful voodoo priestess in New Orleans in the early 1800s. Marie smiled back at her, huge sapphron eyes glowing with unspoken knowledge.
Charity picked up the fossils and dropped them back inside the medicine bag. She listened to the howling of the wind, the ticking of the clock. She could stop neither the wind nor time. Nor could she change the entire future foretold by the bones.
Charity hefted her heavy frame from the comfort of the old rocker and threw another log on the fire. The weatherman had said the wind chill factor was once again below zero. Warned everyone to stay inside. But Charity knew there was one out there. She could feel him.
“They’s bad things about tonight, Mystique.”
The black kitten blinked her pea green eyes in silent answer, stretched and licked a paw.
Flames crackled and popped. “Bad things,” Charity continued to mumble as she moved around the small dining room. She’d had no customers today, and if the weather held, there’d be no customers tomorrow. She didn’t need the money, but she sure missed the company.
Shifting curtains aside Charity glanced into the darkness. The snow had stopped and she watched as the wind piled huge drifts around her porch. She’d have to get someone to shovel her out in the morning. If morning came.
Replacing the curtain she made sure the amulet was hung center pane. He would see. He would know.
She could feel the evil closing in. The room was growing chilly despite the roaring flames of the fire.
Crossing to the door she took a small vial from her pocket. Pouring the liquid in a thin line along the bottom of the door she prayed, “Give light unto my eyes, Lord, lest I sleep in death.”
Picking up Mystique she returned to the rocker, gently stroking the smooth black fur of the kitten. Her eyes disappeared into the folds of her face as she laughed out loud. “Papa La Das sure be angry tonight, Mystique.”
The clock chimed. The wind howled.
They thought her an old busybody. Warned her not to interfere.
Well, what would be would be and what was done was done. She’d just tipped the scales. Evened the score so to speak.
The lights flickered, dimmed and went out. Charity hugged Mystique closer to her breast, rocking in the shadows cast by the flames of the fire. “Yep, Papa La Das sure be angry.”
For others it was the beginning of an ancient battle. The nightmares of tortured minds.
Charity Froste closed her eyes. She could see the huge ugly bird as it descended. Red eyes glowing like the embers of fire. Snow white fangs that devoured everything in its path.
The wind howled, shrieked and sent forth blood-chilling screams. Tree limbs slapped and scraped the sides of the house, like the huge bird’s dagger-like talons.
The bones never lied.
Charity tossed the fossil stones, her eyes still closed. She would not easily be devoured. The white fangs, red eyes and razor sharp talons of the Piasa held no fear for her. She had faced it before. She feared little beyond the balance. And the balance had shifted. Billy had called the white wolf, weaved the dreams, and she had done what she had to do.
A distinct chill blew across her nape.
She opened her eyes, studied the bones. The bones never lied.
“Sure wish you was here, honey chile.”
Charity smiled at the huge painting of Marie Leveau, hanging just above the dining room mantle. Now there was a woman to be reckoned with. The most powerful voodoo priestess in New Orleans in the early 1800s. Marie smiled back at her, huge sapphron eyes glowing with unspoken knowledge.
Charity picked up the fossils and dropped them back inside the medicine bag. She listened to the howling of the wind, the ticking of the clock. She could stop neither the wind nor time. Nor could she change the entire future foretold by the bones.
Charity hefted her heavy frame from the comfort of the old rocker and threw another log on the fire. The weatherman had said the wind chill factor was once again below zero. Warned everyone to stay inside. But Charity knew there was one out there. She could feel him.
“They’s bad things about tonight, Mystique.”
The black kitten blinked her pea green eyes in silent answer, stretched and licked a paw.
Flames crackled and popped. “Bad things,” Charity continued to mumble as she moved around the small dining room. She’d had no customers today, and if the weather held, there’d be no customers tomorrow. She didn’t need the money, but she sure missed the company.
Shifting curtains aside Charity glanced into the darkness. The snow had stopped and she watched as the wind piled huge drifts around her porch. She’d have to get someone to shovel her out in the morning. If morning came.
Replacing the curtain she made sure the amulet was hung center pane. He would see. He would know.
She could feel the evil closing in. The room was growing chilly despite the roaring flames of the fire.
Crossing to the door she took a small vial from her pocket. Pouring the liquid in a thin line along the bottom of the door she prayed, “Give light unto my eyes, Lord, lest I sleep in death.”
Picking up Mystique she returned to the rocker, gently stroking the smooth black fur of the kitten. Her eyes disappeared into the folds of her face as she laughed out loud. “Papa La Das sure be angry tonight, Mystique.”
The clock chimed. The wind howled.
They thought her an old busybody. Warned her not to interfere.
Well, what would be would be and what was done was done. She’d just tipped the scales. Evened the score so to speak.
The lights flickered, dimmed and went out. Charity hugged Mystique closer to her breast, rocking in the shadows cast by the flames of the fire. “Yep, Papa La Das sure be angry.”
Monday, July 26, 2010
Character Interview, Carl Jackson, FBI
Good morning. My guest today is FBI agent Carl Jackson.
L: Mr. Jackson, it’s such a pleasure to have you here with us today. Of all the characters in the Jacody Ives Mysteries, you actually became one of my favorites.
C: Hell, I could have told you that. Where’s the ashtray?
L: We don’t smoke in the house.
C: No smoking, no coffee, no interview.
L: *sigh*. Well, let me see what I can do about that.
C: *grin* And put some of that good Kentucky Bourbon in the coffee.
L: Here you go. Sorry, we don’t drink.
C: “sniffing the coffee”. You ain’t American, and you sure as hell ain’t no Kentuckian.
L: Well, I assure you not all Kentuckians drink bourbon. But we’re here to talk about you.
C: Better hurry it up then. I got a date with a fishing pole and a worm.
L: Oh, yes, I remember. You didn’t get to do much fishing.
C: Yeah, and I’m still mad at you about that.
L: Me?
C: All I wanted was just a half hour. One half hour. And could you give it to me? No, you had to have the Chief call and chew my ass out.
L: Well, Jacody had just been shot.
C: And whose fault was that?
L: *sigh*
C: And you better not ask me how that makes me feel.
L: Oh, no, I’d never do that. I totally understand you’re not a big fan of psychologists or psychiatrists.
C: Fan? *******, psycho-social babbling fools. Ain’t got nothing better to do than **** up young kids
L: Language, Mr. Jackson. Please.
C: And who writes my language?
L: And you’re not a big fan of profiling either, are you?
C: College educated idiots. I was catching killers when he was wearing diapers. And I didn’t need no ******* ********** computer printout to tell me who to look for.
L: Well, maybe we need to move on.
C: *cell phone rings* Yeah, I’m on my way.
L: Are you going somewhere?
C: Yep. Got me a date with an old voodoo woman and a worm.
L: How are things with you and Ms. Charity?
C: Be a lot better if you’d get off your *** and write the next chapter.
L: *shuffling notes*. I do have a few more questions.
C: *standing up walking to door* Times up. And little Nikki is running out of time too. You better get to writing. *opening door* Don’t make me have to come back here.
L: *grin*
C: *door opening—picking up forgotten cigarettes* And another thing. The next time you let some old codger clobber me I’m gonna kick your ***.
L: *grin* You were sneaking around Millie’s house with a gun in hand.
C: Yeah, and whose fault was that? *slamming door*. Next time get some damn bourbon.
So, ladies and gentlemen there you have it. Don’t worry, although he smokes like a freight train, and cusses worse than a sailor, his bark is worse than his bite. He’s really just a big old teddy bear that’s deadly when those he loves are in danger.
Carl makes a regular appearance in all Jacody Ives Mysteries.
L: Mr. Jackson, it’s such a pleasure to have you here with us today. Of all the characters in the Jacody Ives Mysteries, you actually became one of my favorites.
C: Hell, I could have told you that. Where’s the ashtray?
L: We don’t smoke in the house.
C: No smoking, no coffee, no interview.
L: *sigh*. Well, let me see what I can do about that.
C: *grin* And put some of that good Kentucky Bourbon in the coffee.
L: Here you go. Sorry, we don’t drink.
C: “sniffing the coffee”. You ain’t American, and you sure as hell ain’t no Kentuckian.
L: Well, I assure you not all Kentuckians drink bourbon. But we’re here to talk about you.
C: Better hurry it up then. I got a date with a fishing pole and a worm.
L: Oh, yes, I remember. You didn’t get to do much fishing.
C: Yeah, and I’m still mad at you about that.
L: Me?
C: All I wanted was just a half hour. One half hour. And could you give it to me? No, you had to have the Chief call and chew my ass out.
L: Well, Jacody had just been shot.
C: And whose fault was that?
L: *sigh*
C: And you better not ask me how that makes me feel.
L: Oh, no, I’d never do that. I totally understand you’re not a big fan of psychologists or psychiatrists.
C: Fan? *******, psycho-social babbling fools. Ain’t got nothing better to do than **** up young kids
L: Language, Mr. Jackson. Please.
C: And who writes my language?
L: And you’re not a big fan of profiling either, are you?
C: College educated idiots. I was catching killers when he was wearing diapers. And I didn’t need no ******* ********** computer printout to tell me who to look for.
L: Well, maybe we need to move on.
C: *cell phone rings* Yeah, I’m on my way.
L: Are you going somewhere?
C: Yep. Got me a date with an old voodoo woman and a worm.
L: How are things with you and Ms. Charity?
C: Be a lot better if you’d get off your *** and write the next chapter.
L: *shuffling notes*. I do have a few more questions.
C: *standing up walking to door* Times up. And little Nikki is running out of time too. You better get to writing. *opening door* Don’t make me have to come back here.
L: *grin*
C: *door opening—picking up forgotten cigarettes* And another thing. The next time you let some old codger clobber me I’m gonna kick your ***.
L: *grin* You were sneaking around Millie’s house with a gun in hand.
C: Yeah, and whose fault was that? *slamming door*. Next time get some damn bourbon.
So, ladies and gentlemen there you have it. Don’t worry, although he smokes like a freight train, and cusses worse than a sailor, his bark is worse than his bite. He’s really just a big old teddy bear that’s deadly when those he loves are in danger.
Carl makes a regular appearance in all Jacody Ives Mysteries.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Exerpt: Sacred Secrets
Sheriff Tomlinson parked the car, turning off the motor. His mind drifted, dredging up memories best left buried. He could see it, hear it, smell it.
“Don’t go in there, Dan.”
The Sheriff stared at his Deputy, eyes blurred, bloodshot from lack of sleep. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours desperately searching for his wife and infant son.
“Get out of my way.”
The room was like all sleazy motel rooms. It smelled of stale cigarettes. Cheap whiskey.
He’d stored all that in his subconscious as his conscious mind reeled backwards from the images searing his brain. So much blood. Her beautiful black hair was fanned out over the pillow, surrounding her face like a black halo of light. A terrible sickness clawed at his stomach as he looked into the gaping hole in her chest. Someone had cut out her lying, cheating heart.
Shaking his head to clear his vision, Tomlinson slammed the door to the car, his footsteps striking angry patterns in the snow. Ives didn’t know anything. Not yet anyway. Nothing he could prove.
Slamming the front door he looked at the young man slouched on his couch. Trash. That’s all he was. Just like his mother. He kicked the feet off the couch arm. “Get your ass up.”
Guy opened bloodshot eyes, gleaming with hatred only a child could feel. “What the fuck you want?”
Tomlinson reached out and jerked him up, pushing into his face. “I want to know where Charity Froste is. And you’re gonna tell me.”
“Don’t go in there, Dan.”
The Sheriff stared at his Deputy, eyes blurred, bloodshot from lack of sleep. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours desperately searching for his wife and infant son.
“Get out of my way.”
The room was like all sleazy motel rooms. It smelled of stale cigarettes. Cheap whiskey.
He’d stored all that in his subconscious as his conscious mind reeled backwards from the images searing his brain. So much blood. Her beautiful black hair was fanned out over the pillow, surrounding her face like a black halo of light. A terrible sickness clawed at his stomach as he looked into the gaping hole in her chest. Someone had cut out her lying, cheating heart.
Shaking his head to clear his vision, Tomlinson slammed the door to the car, his footsteps striking angry patterns in the snow. Ives didn’t know anything. Not yet anyway. Nothing he could prove.
Slamming the front door he looked at the young man slouched on his couch. Trash. That’s all he was. Just like his mother. He kicked the feet off the couch arm. “Get your ass up.”
Guy opened bloodshot eyes, gleaming with hatred only a child could feel. “What the fuck you want?”
Tomlinson reached out and jerked him up, pushing into his face. “I want to know where Charity Froste is. And you’re gonna tell me.”
Saturday, July 24, 2010
You want to write a book? Then don't. . .
Almost every author has heard at least one or more customers say – I want to write a book. So if you truly want to write a book, here are some things you shouldn’t do.
1) Don’t put off until tomorrow what you need to do today. Every book has a time theme. Every book has a place in time, and a time when it will be more popular with the general public. Actually most publishers will tell you that you’re writing for the future (unless you’re doing historicals). What may be popular today, could be totally uninteresting two years from now. So, if you truly want to write a book, have a good idea for today—then start writing now.
2) Don’t be afraid to fail. It is that fear of failure that will keep you from finishing your story, and once it’s finished will keep you from sharing it with the world. Competition in the publishing world is vast. If you want a good idea of just how vast walk into any bookstore and look at the number of books on the shelves. Do an internet search and see how many books are being published a year. You may have the best story in the world, and still have trouble getting it out there. Still nothing ventured, nothing gained. You need two things to make it—a good story, and luck. Start with the good story, and luck will surely follow.
3) Don’t edit as you write. Write as the story is flowing. As the characters are coming to life. Write, write, write. Don’t stop to praise or chastise yourself. Just keep writing until you put that final period at the end.
4) Learn to visualize, and share those visualizations on paper. Make sure your readers can see it, feel it, taste it, hear it. Don’t say, “John was listening to Steppenwolf as he drove along main street.” Let us feel it through John’s body motions. See it through his eyes. Hear it through his ears.
5) Don’t forget you need a beginning, middle and end. And your beginning needs to be the reason a reader wants to read the middle and the end. I hear it all the time. I want to write a novel, but I just don’t know where to start. Scope out your theme, then your plot. Start with the beginning and know where you’re going. This may change as you’re writing, so don’t worry about totally following your outline. Write, write, write.
6) Don’t neglect research, but don’t overdo it and bore your reader to death. It may be necessary to tell your reader how an airplane engine failed, but it isn’t necessary to take them through every step of the investigation going through each part of the engine one by one.
7) Don’t ever be afraid to rewrite. One thing that you can expect—every time you sit down to write you will get better and better, so odds are by the time you finish your novel you’ll be a much better writer than when you started. So when you go back to Chapter One you may find yourself say, “Oh, my God, did I really write that?” Rewrites are a normal process, and will only make your work better.
8) Don’t ask everyone on the street to read your work seeking validation before you decide to send it out to a publisher or agent. The opinions of family, friends and co-workers will always be tempered by their desire to make you feel good about what you’ve written. If you have the opportunity to work with a critique group, go for it. Many times having them read your writing out loud will give you a really good idea of how it sounds to someone else. If you can’t find a critique group, take a tape recorder or digital recorder and read it yourself. One thing you’ll discover by doing this is words you left out, or things that may be unclear to your reader. It’s all in your head, but did you get it all down on paper?
9) Before you submit your work do your research. You don’t want to send a horror story to a romance agent, or vice versa. Search your market, know your market and stick within your genre’s market.
10) Last, but certainly not least—DON’T GIVE UP! Many authors will tell you that the only difference between a published writer and an unpublished writer is one kept going, and one gave up. Be realistic. You know if you’ve written a good story. You know if you would buy the book you just wrote. Check out the different forms of publishing. Major publishers require an agent. So if that’s the route you want to take then seek out an agent first, but make sure your manuscript is totally finished prior to soliciting anyone. Small press publishers will often work with the authors one on one. Self-publishing has now become acceptable, and is quite easy, but if you’re going to go that route you will need to hire a professional editor, and unless you’re familiar with print and book layouts, you may need someone to help with that. And don’t forget—a good book cover can make or break a book. If you’re familiar with design and can do your own, that’s wonderful, if not seek out the help of a professional design team.
I can’t emphasize enough that if you truly, truly, truly want to write a book, the only way you can do it is sit down and get started. If you wait until you have time, well you’ll continue to give yourself reasons to wait one more day. If you wait until you have enough money, you’ll continue to find things to spend your money on. So you need to ask yourself some serious questions. How important is writing this book to me? Why am I writing a book? What am I willing to sacrifice to see my work in print?
Once you have the answers to those questions if you still want to write a book, then quit reading this and go write, write, write.
1) Don’t put off until tomorrow what you need to do today. Every book has a time theme. Every book has a place in time, and a time when it will be more popular with the general public. Actually most publishers will tell you that you’re writing for the future (unless you’re doing historicals). What may be popular today, could be totally uninteresting two years from now. So, if you truly want to write a book, have a good idea for today—then start writing now.
2) Don’t be afraid to fail. It is that fear of failure that will keep you from finishing your story, and once it’s finished will keep you from sharing it with the world. Competition in the publishing world is vast. If you want a good idea of just how vast walk into any bookstore and look at the number of books on the shelves. Do an internet search and see how many books are being published a year. You may have the best story in the world, and still have trouble getting it out there. Still nothing ventured, nothing gained. You need two things to make it—a good story, and luck. Start with the good story, and luck will surely follow.
3) Don’t edit as you write. Write as the story is flowing. As the characters are coming to life. Write, write, write. Don’t stop to praise or chastise yourself. Just keep writing until you put that final period at the end.
4) Learn to visualize, and share those visualizations on paper. Make sure your readers can see it, feel it, taste it, hear it. Don’t say, “John was listening to Steppenwolf as he drove along main street.” Let us feel it through John’s body motions. See it through his eyes. Hear it through his ears.
5) Don’t forget you need a beginning, middle and end. And your beginning needs to be the reason a reader wants to read the middle and the end. I hear it all the time. I want to write a novel, but I just don’t know where to start. Scope out your theme, then your plot. Start with the beginning and know where you’re going. This may change as you’re writing, so don’t worry about totally following your outline. Write, write, write.
6) Don’t neglect research, but don’t overdo it and bore your reader to death. It may be necessary to tell your reader how an airplane engine failed, but it isn’t necessary to take them through every step of the investigation going through each part of the engine one by one.
7) Don’t ever be afraid to rewrite. One thing that you can expect—every time you sit down to write you will get better and better, so odds are by the time you finish your novel you’ll be a much better writer than when you started. So when you go back to Chapter One you may find yourself say, “Oh, my God, did I really write that?” Rewrites are a normal process, and will only make your work better.
8) Don’t ask everyone on the street to read your work seeking validation before you decide to send it out to a publisher or agent. The opinions of family, friends and co-workers will always be tempered by their desire to make you feel good about what you’ve written. If you have the opportunity to work with a critique group, go for it. Many times having them read your writing out loud will give you a really good idea of how it sounds to someone else. If you can’t find a critique group, take a tape recorder or digital recorder and read it yourself. One thing you’ll discover by doing this is words you left out, or things that may be unclear to your reader. It’s all in your head, but did you get it all down on paper?
9) Before you submit your work do your research. You don’t want to send a horror story to a romance agent, or vice versa. Search your market, know your market and stick within your genre’s market.
10) Last, but certainly not least—DON’T GIVE UP! Many authors will tell you that the only difference between a published writer and an unpublished writer is one kept going, and one gave up. Be realistic. You know if you’ve written a good story. You know if you would buy the book you just wrote. Check out the different forms of publishing. Major publishers require an agent. So if that’s the route you want to take then seek out an agent first, but make sure your manuscript is totally finished prior to soliciting anyone. Small press publishers will often work with the authors one on one. Self-publishing has now become acceptable, and is quite easy, but if you’re going to go that route you will need to hire a professional editor, and unless you’re familiar with print and book layouts, you may need someone to help with that. And don’t forget—a good book cover can make or break a book. If you’re familiar with design and can do your own, that’s wonderful, if not seek out the help of a professional design team.
I can’t emphasize enough that if you truly, truly, truly want to write a book, the only way you can do it is sit down and get started. If you wait until you have time, well you’ll continue to give yourself reasons to wait one more day. If you wait until you have enough money, you’ll continue to find things to spend your money on. So you need to ask yourself some serious questions. How important is writing this book to me? Why am I writing a book? What am I willing to sacrifice to see my work in print?
Once you have the answers to those questions if you still want to write a book, then quit reading this and go write, write, write.
Friday, July 23, 2010
TODAY'S JOKE
During my early days of working in the courtroom as a court reporter I had the opportunity to work for and with a judge that I truly admired. His sense of humor was often seen from the bench and his rulings were based on evidence and fairness to the parties. That doesn’t always happen. I knew though, the first time I walked into his courtroom and was waiting for the case I was covering to be called, I was going to love him. Two out of town attorneys were arguing heavily, one yelling “If Your Honor please” “If Your Honor please” every other breath. The judge stood up, smiled at the audience and stated: “Your Honor pleases to have a cigarette, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. We’ll take a ten minute recess.”
I’d often wondered as a young girl what went on behind chamber doors. Well, I had the pleasure of working with the judge for 3 more years, and often found myself in chambers taking notes and arguments not appropriate for the audience or jury to hear. But one day, during an extremely tense murder trial the judge called us all into chambers. Taking my equipment, ready to take down any important facts I was pleasantly surprised as he lit up a cigarette, told us all to sit down and proceeded to tell a joke. This remains one of my favorite “legal” jokes.
The trial was an injury accident; counsel had prefaced the case with opening arguments. It seemed a pretty cut and dry case. Mr. Brown a 70 year old local farmer had been going to the stockyard to sell a heifer when he was t-boned at a four-way intersection. He’d suffered the loss of his heifer, Bessie, as well as broken ribs, contusions and a broken arm. He was suing for personal injuries as well as the loss of his prize heifer, Bessie. Counsel for the defense had only one factor in his favor. And when Plaintiff’s counsel finished his questioning he decided to hone in on that fact alone.
MR. FINKLEBERG: Mr. Brown, isn’t it true when the police officer asked you if you were hurt, you told him you were fine?
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning, and I loaded up old Bessie and we headed to the stockyard--
MR. FINKLEBERG: You’re not answering my question, Mr. Brown. Isn’t it true that when the police officer asked you if you were hurt, you told him you were fine?
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning, and I loaded up old Bessie and we headed to the stockyard--
MR. FINKLEBERG: It’s a yes or no question, Mr. Brown. Did you tell the police officer you weren’t hurt?
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning--
MR. FINKLEBERG: Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to answer the question?
JUDGE: Well, I think I’d kind of like to hear the rest of the story. Go ahead, Mr. Brown.
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning, and I loaded up old Bessie and we headed to the stockyard. We come to this intersection and I stopped at the stop sign and looked. Seeing nothing coming I proceeded on through the intersection when here come this pickup truck out of nowhere just a flying. Next thing I knowed I was lying in the ditch listening to poor old Bessie a bawling. I knew she was hurt bad. Guess I passed out for a few minutes then, because this loud pop woke me up and Bessie wasn’t bawling no more. When I opened my eyes, why they was a police officer standing over me, smoking gun still in hand. He bent down, smiled at me and said: “Your cow was in pretty bad shape, and I had to put her down. How you feeling?” I looked him straight in the eye and said “I’m just fine.”
The moral of the story is what you say at an accident scene can come back to haunt you in a trial, but if you are lucky enough to get a judge with a sense of humor, the circumstances of the testimony make all the difference in the world.
Have a great day!
I’d often wondered as a young girl what went on behind chamber doors. Well, I had the pleasure of working with the judge for 3 more years, and often found myself in chambers taking notes and arguments not appropriate for the audience or jury to hear. But one day, during an extremely tense murder trial the judge called us all into chambers. Taking my equipment, ready to take down any important facts I was pleasantly surprised as he lit up a cigarette, told us all to sit down and proceeded to tell a joke. This remains one of my favorite “legal” jokes.
The trial was an injury accident; counsel had prefaced the case with opening arguments. It seemed a pretty cut and dry case. Mr. Brown a 70 year old local farmer had been going to the stockyard to sell a heifer when he was t-boned at a four-way intersection. He’d suffered the loss of his heifer, Bessie, as well as broken ribs, contusions and a broken arm. He was suing for personal injuries as well as the loss of his prize heifer, Bessie. Counsel for the defense had only one factor in his favor. And when Plaintiff’s counsel finished his questioning he decided to hone in on that fact alone.
MR. FINKLEBERG: Mr. Brown, isn’t it true when the police officer asked you if you were hurt, you told him you were fine?
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning, and I loaded up old Bessie and we headed to the stockyard--
MR. FINKLEBERG: You’re not answering my question, Mr. Brown. Isn’t it true that when the police officer asked you if you were hurt, you told him you were fine?
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning, and I loaded up old Bessie and we headed to the stockyard--
MR. FINKLEBERG: It’s a yes or no question, Mr. Brown. Did you tell the police officer you weren’t hurt?
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning--
MR. FINKLEBERG: Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to answer the question?
JUDGE: Well, I think I’d kind of like to hear the rest of the story. Go ahead, Mr. Brown.
MR. BROWN: Well, it was a Thursday morning, and I loaded up old Bessie and we headed to the stockyard. We come to this intersection and I stopped at the stop sign and looked. Seeing nothing coming I proceeded on through the intersection when here come this pickup truck out of nowhere just a flying. Next thing I knowed I was lying in the ditch listening to poor old Bessie a bawling. I knew she was hurt bad. Guess I passed out for a few minutes then, because this loud pop woke me up and Bessie wasn’t bawling no more. When I opened my eyes, why they was a police officer standing over me, smoking gun still in hand. He bent down, smiled at me and said: “Your cow was in pretty bad shape, and I had to put her down. How you feeling?” I looked him straight in the eye and said “I’m just fine.”
The moral of the story is what you say at an accident scene can come back to haunt you in a trial, but if you are lucky enough to get a judge with a sense of humor, the circumstances of the testimony make all the difference in the world.
Have a great day!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Excerpt - Sacred Secrets
Your plangent cries permeate my dreams
Lest I forget
That which I have become
Slipping into the verisimiltude
I have created
A myrmidon of evil
Panoply of secrets
Pulling me down
Into the brackish water of my dreams
‘Tis but a simple deed
To expiate my sins
Simple as life
Or death
I chose this cup
Now I must drink.
8
Father Michael felt the chasm widen. A vast wasteland of emptiness. Nothingness. He had nothing. He was nothing.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Father Michael?”
Father Peter’s words were a mere whisper, his hands longing to caress the parchment stored beneath the thick glass.
“Where . . .”
Father Peter turned to him excitedly. “A gift from your sister, Claire.”
Father Michael nodded. He’d recognized the painting immediately as one of John’s beautiful fakes. The Revelations of St. Bridget of Sweden. Two beams of light shone down from the hands of the Virgin and Christ, enthroned on the heavenly plane, joining into one single stream entering the eyes of the seated saint. Images were powerful in medieval times.
Father Michael lowered his head, closed his eyes. “Please . . .,” she whispered.
Images were still powerful.
Father Peter gushed on, his excitement uncontainable. “Of course, I know it’s a reproduction, but its beauty, its message is invaluable.”
A beautiful fake, just like me, Father Michael thought, the riving pain opening, surging. A raging river in which he was going to drown.
The words came from the midst of the chasm. Words he’d not intended to say. “I’ve lost all hope, Father.”
The words echoed in the small study, coming from all four corners, dowsing the sun streaming from the window, fading the colors of the parchment. Gripping the heart of Father Peter with pain.
He turned, excitement of the gift still etched upon his wrinkled face. Gasping as he gazed into open wounds, vivid pools reflecting suffering. Never before had he seen such agony. His hands fluttered in front of him, mind sifting through eighty years of life, searching for words to breach the chasm. Words of comfort.
“There is always hope, Father Michael. God is our hope.”
“I no long hear His voice, Father.” He glanced at the painting. “No longer feel His light.”
“We must pray, my son.” Father Peter walked around the desk, placing his hand on the young priest’s shoulder. “We must pray that God will guide you in your hour of need.”
Father Michael sighed, placing his hand over the knotted arthritic joints of Father Peter’s fingers. “I have prayed, Father. I pray daily that God will take this cup from me.”
Father Peter felt the trembling in the hand covering his. Felt the despair. His words came unbidden. Words he knew not the source. Words he would ponder and regret in the days to come.
“Perhaps you must take the cup and drink from it.”
Father Michael embraced him. He had the forlorn feeling of being alone in the world. And that loneliness threatened to crush him. He whispered the words that sealed his fate. “Perhaps, Father. Perhaps I must.”
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Today's Joke
Working in the legal field can sometimes be very DRY. Occasionally though, you have an attorney that in a moment of downtime tells a joke. I found this one worthy of sharing.
An old man is lying on his deathbed as the family visits one by one. His grandson comes in, and the old man motions him closer and says "Hand me that box, son, I have a present for you that you'll treasure for a lifetime."
The young man in anticipation hands the box to his grandfather. His grandfather pulls out his sixty year old pistol and hands it to his grandson. Noting the look of disappointment on the young man's face he asks, "What wrong, don't you like it?"
The young man smiles and nods his head. "Yeah, Grandpa, but I was kind of hoping for your Rolex."
The old man gathers enough energy to chortle. "My Rolex? Why you ain't thinking right, son. Years from now when you get married and you come home from work and find that pretty young thing you married in bed with another man, what do you want to do? Grab your gun and kill him, or look at your Rolex and say, 'your times up"?"
Needless to say, the young man changed his mind about the present.
An old man is lying on his deathbed as the family visits one by one. His grandson comes in, and the old man motions him closer and says "Hand me that box, son, I have a present for you that you'll treasure for a lifetime."
The young man in anticipation hands the box to his grandfather. His grandfather pulls out his sixty year old pistol and hands it to his grandson. Noting the look of disappointment on the young man's face he asks, "What wrong, don't you like it?"
The young man smiles and nods his head. "Yeah, Grandpa, but I was kind of hoping for your Rolex."
The old man gathers enough energy to chortle. "My Rolex? Why you ain't thinking right, son. Years from now when you get married and you come home from work and find that pretty young thing you married in bed with another man, what do you want to do? Grab your gun and kill him, or look at your Rolex and say, 'your times up"?"
Needless to say, the young man changed his mind about the present.
Opening Your Creative Mind
Creativity is one of the most rewarding and essential parts of our everyday life. It’s when we feel the most alive. Whether it’s planting flowers, painting a room, solving a problem, inventing something new, writing a book, or just daydreaming the future to come. When we’re creating we are the happiest, healthiest and most satisfied with the world around us.
Most people if asked would tell you they’re not creative. But that isn’t true. Everyone has a creative nature. Just the process of choosing the right blouse or shirt to go with the right pants or skirt is in itself a creative process. You mix, match and then try them on to see not only how they look together, but how they look on you. Sometimes you love the creation, sometimes you go back to the drawing book and/or closet and try again.
Stress and the hustle and bustle of today’s world are definite killers to the creative process. Some of us, myself included, find ourselves just pulling the first thing we find out of the closet. We’re too tired or perhaps to rushed to take the time to be creative. This in itself increases our frustration with our everyday life, and increases our stress load. We need that few moments of creativity to give us a boost, make us feel attractive.
So how do we get it back? Where do we start to reopen creativity in our world? We have not a writer’s block, but a life block. Lack of time or simply lack of initiative. Below are a few techniques you can use to reopen that world. The more you use them, the more you’ll find you want to use them, for those few moments of each day become more enjoyable, happier. A time for you.
First – recognize that you have creative thoughts thousands of times a day. They’re fleeting, and you have to grab on quick and hold on. Learn to pay attention to your thoughts. Learn to capture the important ones. Keep a notepad close, or a small recorder. It may only be a few words, a brief vision. Write it down, or record it for later study.
Second—challenge yourself daily. Take something that you find difficult. Set up a model of ways to make it easier. Or a better way of doing the same thing that’s more economical and produces a greater output in less time.
Third—Broaden the world around you. Take a walk at lunch. Go to a new store where you’ve never been before. Even if you’re not looking for anything specific. There you’ll see new people, new things and broaden your creative outlook. Drive down a different street before heading home. See what other people are doing. What type of flowers adorns their walks. Strike up a conversation with a stranger. They probably want to talk too, but may be too insecure to approach you.
Four—stimulate your creative mind with oddities. You’re going to be at your desk for eight hours or more. Put something on your desk that every time you look at it you think something different. Perhaps an apple and a pair of rubber gloves. I know that’s sort of weird. But every time your gaze falls on that apple and rubber gloves your mind is going to try to decipher why you have gloves and an apple together. A child’s toy and trowel. Stimulate your mind with objects that are different than what’s normally on your desk. Change this daily. With diverse and changing stimuli you’ll find your mind beginning to change, seek new direction and creative ideas flowing more freely.
Have a great day, and create something new.
Most people if asked would tell you they’re not creative. But that isn’t true. Everyone has a creative nature. Just the process of choosing the right blouse or shirt to go with the right pants or skirt is in itself a creative process. You mix, match and then try them on to see not only how they look together, but how they look on you. Sometimes you love the creation, sometimes you go back to the drawing book and/or closet and try again.
Stress and the hustle and bustle of today’s world are definite killers to the creative process. Some of us, myself included, find ourselves just pulling the first thing we find out of the closet. We’re too tired or perhaps to rushed to take the time to be creative. This in itself increases our frustration with our everyday life, and increases our stress load. We need that few moments of creativity to give us a boost, make us feel attractive.
So how do we get it back? Where do we start to reopen creativity in our world? We have not a writer’s block, but a life block. Lack of time or simply lack of initiative. Below are a few techniques you can use to reopen that world. The more you use them, the more you’ll find you want to use them, for those few moments of each day become more enjoyable, happier. A time for you.
First – recognize that you have creative thoughts thousands of times a day. They’re fleeting, and you have to grab on quick and hold on. Learn to pay attention to your thoughts. Learn to capture the important ones. Keep a notepad close, or a small recorder. It may only be a few words, a brief vision. Write it down, or record it for later study.
Second—challenge yourself daily. Take something that you find difficult. Set up a model of ways to make it easier. Or a better way of doing the same thing that’s more economical and produces a greater output in less time.
Third—Broaden the world around you. Take a walk at lunch. Go to a new store where you’ve never been before. Even if you’re not looking for anything specific. There you’ll see new people, new things and broaden your creative outlook. Drive down a different street before heading home. See what other people are doing. What type of flowers adorns their walks. Strike up a conversation with a stranger. They probably want to talk too, but may be too insecure to approach you.
Four—stimulate your creative mind with oddities. You’re going to be at your desk for eight hours or more. Put something on your desk that every time you look at it you think something different. Perhaps an apple and a pair of rubber gloves. I know that’s sort of weird. But every time your gaze falls on that apple and rubber gloves your mind is going to try to decipher why you have gloves and an apple together. A child’s toy and trowel. Stimulate your mind with objects that are different than what’s normally on your desk. Change this daily. With diverse and changing stimuli you’ll find your mind beginning to change, seek new direction and creative ideas flowing more freely.
Have a great day, and create something new.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Interview with Author, Kipp Poe Speicher
Good morning. Today I’m joined by Kipp Poe Speicher, author of Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly.
LINDA: Kipp, tell us a little bit about yourself. Just a brief bio.
KIPP: I live in Ohio with hot and humid summers and freezing winters. I have worked in a print shop for 25 years dreaming of the day I could print my own book. Along with being an author I am also an indie film maker.
LINDA: How long have you been writing?
KIPP: I have always since I was younger tried to find a way to share my stories. A few years ago with the boom in digital video I was able to take my writing and turn it into a digital art form. Now with the ability to self publish I have become an author and turned some of my screenplay ideas into novels.
LINDA: WHY do you write?
KIPP: It is almost therapy for me. I’m a very quiet person and spend a lot of time with characters and stories playing out in my head. Writing them out and giving them life is an obsession almost.
LINDA: Tell us about your book.
KIPP: Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly is my first book to put up on the Amazon Kindle store. It is two short stories. One with the same title of the book is an experimental piece that takes you from one character to another as we witness the end of the world. Gas For Grass is a crazy story filled with horror, erotica, and a bit of humor about one man’s quest for peace and quiet.
LINDA: What did you find the most challenging part of writing Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly?
KIPP: The hardest part of writing is the fact I have a serious learning disability. Having dyslexia and being tone deaf where I can’t sound out any words, every word has to be visually memorized for me to spell it. so writing is a bit slow and I have two wonderful editors who help me through.
LINDA: What was the most rewarding thing about writing Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly?
KIPP: The Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly has been a story I have storyboarded out years ago to make a movie of, but if you read it you will find out there is no chance to make it with no budget. So I wrote it on a narrative form and finally brought it to life. And now reading all the great reviews it has gotten is an amazing feeling.
LINDA: How do you develop your characters?
KIPP: I spend so much time with them every day. I get a story idea and the characters just start showing up. I spend a lot of time putting myself in their situation thinking it out watching how each one’s actions reflect on the outcomes of others.
LINDA: Who are your favorite authors and why?
KIPP: From a very young age I have always read a lot. Lots of Edgar Allen Poe, Ambrose Bierce, Stephen King, Clive Barker. Now, I am really digging into a lot of the Indie authors. Karen McQuestion, Tom Raimbault, Jon F. Merz and many fresh new voices.
LINDA: What have you learned about yourself since you began writing?
KIPP: I really need to go back to school, lol. I really enjoy being creative. I
don’t have broadcast TV anymore and I don’t miss it at all. What a waste of time it can be.
LINDA: Do you have any advice for aspiring authors?
KIPP: Be true to your voice and just do it.
LINDA: What are you working on now that you can share with us?
KIPP: I have three novels completely worked out just waiting to be typed up. I’m also working on some shorter pieces to get out there to get a name for myself. Right now I’m working on “Listen” that is coming together very nicely. I’m very excited about it
LINDA: Where can readers find your books?
KIPP: I’m on both Amazon Kindle store and Smashword.com that will be pushing my books to all the other eBook sights such as Sony, Borders, B&N, and Apple iBook store in the next couple weeks.
LINDA: Anything else you’d like to share?
KIPP: It’s a great time for writers and readers. You can, with hard work and passion find your voice and your audience.
Thank you, Kipp, for being with us today. I’ve taken the liberty of taking a quick peek at the reviews and here’s what some customers are saying about “Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly”: Mentally Captivating; Strange, Poetic and Beautiful; Thought Provoking.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/kippoe
LINDA: Kipp, tell us a little bit about yourself. Just a brief bio.
KIPP: I live in Ohio with hot and humid summers and freezing winters. I have worked in a print shop for 25 years dreaming of the day I could print my own book. Along with being an author I am also an indie film maker.
LINDA: How long have you been writing?
KIPP: I have always since I was younger tried to find a way to share my stories. A few years ago with the boom in digital video I was able to take my writing and turn it into a digital art form. Now with the ability to self publish I have become an author and turned some of my screenplay ideas into novels.
LINDA: WHY do you write?
KIPP: It is almost therapy for me. I’m a very quiet person and spend a lot of time with characters and stories playing out in my head. Writing them out and giving them life is an obsession almost.
LINDA: Tell us about your book.
KIPP: Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly is my first book to put up on the Amazon Kindle store. It is two short stories. One with the same title of the book is an experimental piece that takes you from one character to another as we witness the end of the world. Gas For Grass is a crazy story filled with horror, erotica, and a bit of humor about one man’s quest for peace and quiet.
LINDA: What did you find the most challenging part of writing Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly?
KIPP: The hardest part of writing is the fact I have a serious learning disability. Having dyslexia and being tone deaf where I can’t sound out any words, every word has to be visually memorized for me to spell it. so writing is a bit slow and I have two wonderful editors who help me through.
LINDA: What was the most rewarding thing about writing Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly?
KIPP: The Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly has been a story I have storyboarded out years ago to make a movie of, but if you read it you will find out there is no chance to make it with no budget. So I wrote it on a narrative form and finally brought it to life. And now reading all the great reviews it has gotten is an amazing feeling.
LINDA: How do you develop your characters?
KIPP: I spend so much time with them every day. I get a story idea and the characters just start showing up. I spend a lot of time putting myself in their situation thinking it out watching how each one’s actions reflect on the outcomes of others.
LINDA: Who are your favorite authors and why?
KIPP: From a very young age I have always read a lot. Lots of Edgar Allen Poe, Ambrose Bierce, Stephen King, Clive Barker. Now, I am really digging into a lot of the Indie authors. Karen McQuestion, Tom Raimbault, Jon F. Merz and many fresh new voices.
LINDA: What have you learned about yourself since you began writing?
KIPP: I really need to go back to school, lol. I really enjoy being creative. I
don’t have broadcast TV anymore and I don’t miss it at all. What a waste of time it can be.
LINDA: Do you have any advice for aspiring authors?
KIPP: Be true to your voice and just do it.
LINDA: What are you working on now that you can share with us?
KIPP: I have three novels completely worked out just waiting to be typed up. I’m also working on some shorter pieces to get out there to get a name for myself. Right now I’m working on “Listen” that is coming together very nicely. I’m very excited about it
LINDA: Where can readers find your books?
KIPP: I’m on both Amazon Kindle store and Smashword.com that will be pushing my books to all the other eBook sights such as Sony, Borders, B&N, and Apple iBook store in the next couple weeks.
LINDA: Anything else you’d like to share?
KIPP: It’s a great time for writers and readers. You can, with hard work and passion find your voice and your audience.
Thank you, Kipp, for being with us today. I’ve taken the liberty of taking a quick peek at the reviews and here’s what some customers are saying about “Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly”: Mentally Captivating; Strange, Poetic and Beautiful; Thought Provoking.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/kippoe
Monday, July 19, 2010
Increasing your Intuitive and/or Psychic Abilities
Although in writing I often refer to psychic abilities as “gifts” in truth, it is something that everyone possesses. Albeit, some seem to be born with more a knack for the ability while others have to work a little harder. A lot of it depends on whether you consider yourself an “external” or “internal” person. Externals tend to love the hustle and bustle of people, places, parties, and conversation. While internals are more content to spend a quiet evening at home, sit by a body of water and daydream or lose themselves in a good book. Most of us are a combination of external and internal. Dependent upon our mood we love both.
There are, of course, thousands of books that can be read on increasing your intuitive and/or psychic abilities. All of these may have some value, but remember that we are all individuals and what works for one may not work for others. I believe in keeping it simple. The only thing you truly need is time, place and open mind.
The three basics to opening your mind to your own abilities are 1) quiet 2) relaxation and 3) visualization. I discussed visualization in an earlier blog. If you haven’t read it you might want to check it out. Below are two simple exercises to try. Remember the more you practice the better results you will achieve.
1) First, buy a good pair of ear plugs that are comfortable. Now pick a room in your home that you’re familiar with and comfortable in. A room with good vibes. Before starting decide how long you want to work, and make sure you turn off all your phones, and that you have that amount of time without the fear of interruption. When you’re reading stand in the middle of the room, put in your ear plugs and close your eyes. Take several deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Feel all tension, anxiety and negativity flow from the top of your head out through the tips of your toes. When you’re relaxed, keeping your eyes closed look straight ahead. Open your mind and see what’s directly in front of you. You know this room. You may get images, or just a sensing of what is there. Now do the same to the left and the right. Now, reach out with your mind and look behind you. Not specific areas such as windows, doors, lamps, chairs. At first this may feel a little weird as the lack of sound, and outer stimuli allows you to truly open your mind, seeing, feeling and sensing with just your mind.
Practice this moving from room to room, and when you’re comfortable, stand in one room and mentally walk through your entire home. Take it one step further. Go outside your home. Look at the front door.
2) Now that you’ve practiced and you’re comfortable moving around with your mind, take it to the next level. The next time you’re getting ready for a trip to the store, or some place you travel all the time do this exercise, only this time travel the road to where you’re going. See the highway, passing scenery. Note any cars you may pass. The color of stop lights. When you’ve finished the entire route, open your eyes and take your trip. How close was your mental vision to the real trip? You may be surprised that in time your mental trip will be almost identical to your actual trip, right down to the cars that pass you and color of stop lights.
These are just two simple exercises you can use to begin your journey in opening your mind to its full potential. For paranormal investigators the room scans, or remote viewing like the car trip can be very helpful in setting up your investigation.
Have any questions, please feel free to ask.
Have a great night, and remember – If the mind can perceive it, the heart can believe it then you can achieve it.
There are, of course, thousands of books that can be read on increasing your intuitive and/or psychic abilities. All of these may have some value, but remember that we are all individuals and what works for one may not work for others. I believe in keeping it simple. The only thing you truly need is time, place and open mind.
The three basics to opening your mind to your own abilities are 1) quiet 2) relaxation and 3) visualization. I discussed visualization in an earlier blog. If you haven’t read it you might want to check it out. Below are two simple exercises to try. Remember the more you practice the better results you will achieve.
1) First, buy a good pair of ear plugs that are comfortable. Now pick a room in your home that you’re familiar with and comfortable in. A room with good vibes. Before starting decide how long you want to work, and make sure you turn off all your phones, and that you have that amount of time without the fear of interruption. When you’re reading stand in the middle of the room, put in your ear plugs and close your eyes. Take several deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Feel all tension, anxiety and negativity flow from the top of your head out through the tips of your toes. When you’re relaxed, keeping your eyes closed look straight ahead. Open your mind and see what’s directly in front of you. You know this room. You may get images, or just a sensing of what is there. Now do the same to the left and the right. Now, reach out with your mind and look behind you. Not specific areas such as windows, doors, lamps, chairs. At first this may feel a little weird as the lack of sound, and outer stimuli allows you to truly open your mind, seeing, feeling and sensing with just your mind.
Practice this moving from room to room, and when you’re comfortable, stand in one room and mentally walk through your entire home. Take it one step further. Go outside your home. Look at the front door.
2) Now that you’ve practiced and you’re comfortable moving around with your mind, take it to the next level. The next time you’re getting ready for a trip to the store, or some place you travel all the time do this exercise, only this time travel the road to where you’re going. See the highway, passing scenery. Note any cars you may pass. The color of stop lights. When you’ve finished the entire route, open your eyes and take your trip. How close was your mental vision to the real trip? You may be surprised that in time your mental trip will be almost identical to your actual trip, right down to the cars that pass you and color of stop lights.
These are just two simple exercises you can use to begin your journey in opening your mind to its full potential. For paranormal investigators the room scans, or remote viewing like the car trip can be very helpful in setting up your investigation.
Have any questions, please feel free to ask.
Have a great night, and remember – If the mind can perceive it, the heart can believe it then you can achieve it.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Advice to Aspiring Authors
Advice to Aspiring Authors
When I first started writing, two things happened that encouraged me to continue. I hope through this article I can encourage you to continue, and to make your book the best that it can possibly be. In the early 80’s I got my first agent, (which I paid a $200.00 reading fee to). I didn’t know then, what I know now—reputable agents do not charge a reading fee, so be sure you’re dealing with a reputable agent if you decide to go that route. After months of hearing nothing and receiving no offers I cancelled my agent and struck out on my own. I approached what was then called a “vanity” publishing company. I received a very nice letter that I still have, and will keep forever. The company told me my book was too good to be vanity or self-published and that I should approach the major publishing companies. However, if I could not get a major publishing company to take me on, they would publish my book. They gave me a list of prices that was, of course, way out of my budget.
I continued writing; however, I realized that perhaps I needed some type of instruction. I joined a writer’s group and for the next five years I attended week long workshops learning to hone my craft. And there I received my second inspiration. The then editor for a major publishing company was a resident at these workshops, and after reviewing my first work told me the following: “You’re going to make it. Your writing needs WORK, but you have great stories. Great stories are what every author needs. Writing can be improved, but if you don’t have a great story to start with you’ll never make it.
James Patterson is often bad mouthed for his writing style. True, his works aren’t always great literary masterpieces. Patterson is a story-teller. He tells a story with action, visual scenes and a fast pace that keeps you turning pages. Bad mouthed or not—the number of books he’s published, and the number of sales he’s made speak for themselves. People love a GOOD STORY, and they’ll follow a good story teller.
In 2006 my dream of being a published author came true when I received a contract from Echelon Press for my first book. Your dream can come true too.
1) Start with a great story, and know your audience. Know what they like. Do they like a slow pace, fast pace, or a mixture of both. Read every book you can by other authors in your genre. Study their styles. And then, develop your own style.
2) Scope out the potential of your story—is it a one book release, or should you break it into a series? Once again, look to your audience. In some genres series are snapped up, in others readers prefer that stand alone book.
3) Your story is in your head. You know everything about it. However, putting it on paper so that the reader knows what you know is totally different. Read and reread your work making sure you’ve connected your scenes, properly laid out the plot, sub-plots and all twists and turns.
4) I personally don’t use outlines, but for many authors they are an integral part of writing. I would recommend either an outline or board on which you keep notes like characteristics of your characters. Don’t start out with a left-handed killer and wind up with a forensic plot that shows a right-handed person committed the crime.
5) Know your scenery. One suggestion that I feel always works best is to write your first book in a place, time and geographic area that you are personally familiar with. If you choose to use an unfamiliar place then be sure to do your research and that your facts, scenery and even weather is accurate.
6) Write what you yourself want to read. How many of us have read and book and made the statement, I could write a book better than that. If it’s something you’re familiar with and you LOVE—yes, you probably can. Write a book that you would BUY. It’s difficult to ask readers to purchase something that you yourself would not buy.
7) Make friends with other authors in your own genre. Ask questions. Most authors are happy to help and assist fellow authors.
8) Start your reader base NOW! Set up a MySpace page and post poetry, short stories or excerpts from things you’re working on. Do the same with Facebook and any other forum that you can find. What you do now will make the future much easier, and much more profitable for you. (I WISH SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME THIS 5 YEARS AGO!) Start a savings account for marketing purposes. Even if you only put a dollar a day in, when your book is released you’ll have the money for a launch party.
9) Figure out which publishing route is best for you. Every author wants to snag that big advance with a major publishing company. Few will ever realize that dream. Even formerly published authors are now looking at Indie publishing, and digital rights for past and future books.
My last, and most important advice—never give up. And keep writing. If you impress your readers with your first book—they’re going to want a second. So don’t disappoint them. New readers looking for new authors are more apt to buy from an author who had more than one book.
Good luck, and if you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. I love to talk with new authors, readers and just people in general.
Linda S. Prather, Author
When I first started writing, two things happened that encouraged me to continue. I hope through this article I can encourage you to continue, and to make your book the best that it can possibly be. In the early 80’s I got my first agent, (which I paid a $200.00 reading fee to). I didn’t know then, what I know now—reputable agents do not charge a reading fee, so be sure you’re dealing with a reputable agent if you decide to go that route. After months of hearing nothing and receiving no offers I cancelled my agent and struck out on my own. I approached what was then called a “vanity” publishing company. I received a very nice letter that I still have, and will keep forever. The company told me my book was too good to be vanity or self-published and that I should approach the major publishing companies. However, if I could not get a major publishing company to take me on, they would publish my book. They gave me a list of prices that was, of course, way out of my budget.
I continued writing; however, I realized that perhaps I needed some type of instruction. I joined a writer’s group and for the next five years I attended week long workshops learning to hone my craft. And there I received my second inspiration. The then editor for a major publishing company was a resident at these workshops, and after reviewing my first work told me the following: “You’re going to make it. Your writing needs WORK, but you have great stories. Great stories are what every author needs. Writing can be improved, but if you don’t have a great story to start with you’ll never make it.
James Patterson is often bad mouthed for his writing style. True, his works aren’t always great literary masterpieces. Patterson is a story-teller. He tells a story with action, visual scenes and a fast pace that keeps you turning pages. Bad mouthed or not—the number of books he’s published, and the number of sales he’s made speak for themselves. People love a GOOD STORY, and they’ll follow a good story teller.
In 2006 my dream of being a published author came true when I received a contract from Echelon Press for my first book. Your dream can come true too.
1) Start with a great story, and know your audience. Know what they like. Do they like a slow pace, fast pace, or a mixture of both. Read every book you can by other authors in your genre. Study their styles. And then, develop your own style.
2) Scope out the potential of your story—is it a one book release, or should you break it into a series? Once again, look to your audience. In some genres series are snapped up, in others readers prefer that stand alone book.
3) Your story is in your head. You know everything about it. However, putting it on paper so that the reader knows what you know is totally different. Read and reread your work making sure you’ve connected your scenes, properly laid out the plot, sub-plots and all twists and turns.
4) I personally don’t use outlines, but for many authors they are an integral part of writing. I would recommend either an outline or board on which you keep notes like characteristics of your characters. Don’t start out with a left-handed killer and wind up with a forensic plot that shows a right-handed person committed the crime.
5) Know your scenery. One suggestion that I feel always works best is to write your first book in a place, time and geographic area that you are personally familiar with. If you choose to use an unfamiliar place then be sure to do your research and that your facts, scenery and even weather is accurate.
6) Write what you yourself want to read. How many of us have read and book and made the statement, I could write a book better than that. If it’s something you’re familiar with and you LOVE—yes, you probably can. Write a book that you would BUY. It’s difficult to ask readers to purchase something that you yourself would not buy.
7) Make friends with other authors in your own genre. Ask questions. Most authors are happy to help and assist fellow authors.
8) Start your reader base NOW! Set up a MySpace page and post poetry, short stories or excerpts from things you’re working on. Do the same with Facebook and any other forum that you can find. What you do now will make the future much easier, and much more profitable for you. (I WISH SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME THIS 5 YEARS AGO!) Start a savings account for marketing purposes. Even if you only put a dollar a day in, when your book is released you’ll have the money for a launch party.
9) Figure out which publishing route is best for you. Every author wants to snag that big advance with a major publishing company. Few will ever realize that dream. Even formerly published authors are now looking at Indie publishing, and digital rights for past and future books.
My last, and most important advice—never give up. And keep writing. If you impress your readers with your first book—they’re going to want a second. So don’t disappoint them. New readers looking for new authors are more apt to buy from an author who had more than one book.
Good luck, and if you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. I love to talk with new authors, readers and just people in general.
Linda S. Prather, Author
Friday, July 16, 2010
MEET THE AUTHOR - THE JACODY IVES MYSTERIES
As a reader who follows specific authors, and loves their characters I’ve often wondered what would my readers like to know about me? It was easier with my published book as I met many of those readers and spent time talking with them, answering their questions, and getting to know them. I actually made several wonderful friendships through those endeavors and we still stay in touch by email. EBook sales are substantially different in that I rarely, if ever, meet my readers now. And I miss that. I miss that one-on-one contact of discussing writing, characters and life in general.
One of the most often questions asked is: are any of my characters a part of my own persona. Well, yes, many of them are. Let’s take a look at Sacred Secrets, the prequel to The Gifts.
I believe we all have a dark and a light side. Thus Gavin McAllister a/ka/ Jacody Ives. Gavin, the “good” personality, and Jacody the “not quite so good” personality. The deeper, darker, more angry personality. In Sacred Secrets, I explore the trauma behind the split and the creation of Jacody Ives. So, yes, I feel a definite connection with both Gavin and Jacody.
Clover is a young girl who reads tarot cards, auras and believes everyone is psychic. I too believe everyone is psychic, and many of my own characteristics are a part of Clover’s personality.
Katie has lived the majority of her life on “death row”. Knowing that without a heart transplant she would die. I too was told early in life that without a pancreas transplant my days were numbered. After being placed on the transplant list my doctors discovered that I was allergic to the medications I would need for the operation. The surgery itself would kill me. So I know what it’s like to “be on death row”. And my short time on the transplant list is responsible for my interest in cellular memory.
Billy Dawson, the Dream Weaver. An interesting character. Torn between what he believes to be right, and his obligations. Don’t we all feel that same soul searching crisis throughout life?
Miss Charity, my own deep scars and wounds. Which, I hope you’ll forgive me I prefer not to share.
Those are just a few of my favorite characters in Sacred Secrets, which I believe are a part of my own persona.
As Sacred Secrets is the prequel to The Gifts, I did sort of a Star Wars on myself. In The Gifts Gavin and Jacody are no longer totally separate. They function as one, although not totally one.
Sarah, the town Sheriff, like Gavin has what her grandmother called “The Gift”. To Sarah it has always been more of a curse. Like Gavin, she dreams things. Things that happen. And therein lays her frustration. There’s no way she can ever know if what she dreamed is real until it happens, and then it’s too late to do anything about it. What kind of gift is that?
Nikki, Sarah’s five year old daughter reminds me of myself at her age. Yes, even then I was a little weird in the fact that I sometimes saw things or dreamed things that later I found out really happened.
I would love to believe that I have many of Millie’s charming characteristics. I know I have her propensity to feel that trust is essential in a relationship, and that without that trust nothing else matters.
When I started writing The Jacody Ives Mysteries I knew I wanted to write traditional mysteries to keep the reader guessing until the very end. I’ve been told many times that I accomplished this with The Gifts. The jury is still out on Sacred Secrets and I’ll have to wait for reader’s reviews to know if the twist at the end was enough. I will have to say it shocked me, as many times my characters go off in directions I had no idea they were going to take.
So now you know a little more about me, and my characters. Have a question you’d like me to answer? Feel free to post it below.
One of the most often questions asked is: are any of my characters a part of my own persona. Well, yes, many of them are. Let’s take a look at Sacred Secrets, the prequel to The Gifts.
I believe we all have a dark and a light side. Thus Gavin McAllister a/ka/ Jacody Ives. Gavin, the “good” personality, and Jacody the “not quite so good” personality. The deeper, darker, more angry personality. In Sacred Secrets, I explore the trauma behind the split and the creation of Jacody Ives. So, yes, I feel a definite connection with both Gavin and Jacody.
Clover is a young girl who reads tarot cards, auras and believes everyone is psychic. I too believe everyone is psychic, and many of my own characteristics are a part of Clover’s personality.
Katie has lived the majority of her life on “death row”. Knowing that without a heart transplant she would die. I too was told early in life that without a pancreas transplant my days were numbered. After being placed on the transplant list my doctors discovered that I was allergic to the medications I would need for the operation. The surgery itself would kill me. So I know what it’s like to “be on death row”. And my short time on the transplant list is responsible for my interest in cellular memory.
Billy Dawson, the Dream Weaver. An interesting character. Torn between what he believes to be right, and his obligations. Don’t we all feel that same soul searching crisis throughout life?
Miss Charity, my own deep scars and wounds. Which, I hope you’ll forgive me I prefer not to share.
Those are just a few of my favorite characters in Sacred Secrets, which I believe are a part of my own persona.
As Sacred Secrets is the prequel to The Gifts, I did sort of a Star Wars on myself. In The Gifts Gavin and Jacody are no longer totally separate. They function as one, although not totally one.
Sarah, the town Sheriff, like Gavin has what her grandmother called “The Gift”. To Sarah it has always been more of a curse. Like Gavin, she dreams things. Things that happen. And therein lays her frustration. There’s no way she can ever know if what she dreamed is real until it happens, and then it’s too late to do anything about it. What kind of gift is that?
Nikki, Sarah’s five year old daughter reminds me of myself at her age. Yes, even then I was a little weird in the fact that I sometimes saw things or dreamed things that later I found out really happened.
I would love to believe that I have many of Millie’s charming characteristics. I know I have her propensity to feel that trust is essential in a relationship, and that without that trust nothing else matters.
When I started writing The Jacody Ives Mysteries I knew I wanted to write traditional mysteries to keep the reader guessing until the very end. I’ve been told many times that I accomplished this with The Gifts. The jury is still out on Sacred Secrets and I’ll have to wait for reader’s reviews to know if the twist at the end was enough. I will have to say it shocked me, as many times my characters go off in directions I had no idea they were going to take.
So now you know a little more about me, and my characters. Have a question you’d like me to answer? Feel free to post it below.
The Gifts, - Prologue
PROLOGUE
Corrine Larson bit her lip, stifling a scream as she turned slightly, struggling to open her eyes. She couldn’t remember if he’d beaten her for one hour or six, but she knew she was dying. Her body begging to shut down. She’d never heard the death rattle, but she recognized it now, deep inside her chest, with each shallow, painful breath.
Managing only a narrow slit with her left eye, she stared at him, conveying her hatred. He’d used her, and because of her, others would die. A small whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. It wasn’t for her. She didn’t mind dying. Except for. . .
Corrine fought the thoughts threatening to overwhelm her, concentrating on the new pain caused by the salty tears coursing down her face. Her tortured mind honed in on her one satisfaction. That one ray of light in the darkness: She hadn’t told him everything.
Drawing in one last ragged breath, she closed her eye, allowing the feel of the cool damp concrete to soothe her burning body. It was almost over. He whistled softly, a haunting rendition of I Saw the Light, as he loaded the gun.
Corrine turned her thoughts to Sarah and her child. He would kill them. Or worse. Another whimper escaped her lips. Why? Why hadn’t she just left it alone? Sarah had been safe. Her child had been safe. And now, because her reporter’s nose had sniffed a story they were all going to die.
Emotional pain washed over her in waves, drowning out the physical pain. Hurting even worse. There had to be something she could do. Some way to undo the damage she’d done.
She sifted through her memory, searching, rejecting and searching again. She’d written an article once about a psychic who believed your dying thoughts could travel across time and space, influencing the outcome of events to come. Maybe the psychic was right. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could reach across time and space. Warn Sarah.
Rough hands jerked at her hair, raising her from the bloody warehouse floor. She felt the cold steel pressed against the back of her head, heard the sound of the gun cocking. She’d always thought her dying thoughts would be of Rob or Gavin; instead, she honed on in the image of Sarah and her child. As the bullet shattered her brain, she held the image in her mind and silently screamed, He’s coming Sarah. He wants to destroy you.
# # #
Murder is a sin. You’ll go to hell.
“It wasn’t murder—it was self defense.”
He hated the voice in his head. She was always bitching at him. Always butting in. Preaching. A cruel smile twisted the handsome features. Today it didn’t matter. Today was a day of celebration. Soon he’d have what was rightfully his. All the years of waiting would be over. Whistling softly, he pulled away from the dumpster and parked the car. Just a few little things to finish. Pulling the police cap down low he entered the apartment building.
“Evening officer, can I help you?”
“Just delivering some luggage to Ms. Larson.”
The security guard checked the register. “Looks like Ms. Larson is out this evening.”
“Yeah, I know. She gave me a key and told me to set it inside the door. Working on some big story and needed to meet the mayor or somebody. Don’t know why the city wants to waste the taxpayers’ money and use me as her damn courier, but here I am.”
The guard grinned. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Shrugging in sympathy, he turned his attention to the crossword puzzle. “Go on up.”
He walked slowly, taking his time. The bitch had been tougher than he’d thought. She’d cost him a whole fucking day. He wouldn’t rush things now, though. Everything had to play out just right. All he had to do was make it look like she’d never left town.
What if she told someone?
The thought enraged him. He cursed softly as he slipped the key into the lock. That was the trouble with women—they talked too damn much.
And she wouldn’t scream, would she?
He clenched his fists. The bitch just wouldn’t scream. A deep ache started inside his groin. No screaming and no satisfaction. Too old. He liked them young, breasts just starting to bud. Like the one he’d glimpsed in the alley on his way in. Maybe she was still there. Maybe. . .
Unclenching his fists, he ignored the voice. It didn’t matter. He had what he wanted. Setting the luggage inside the door, he relocked it and pulled out the faded snapshot from his shirt pocket. He felt it then. Joy. Pure unadulterated joy. She would scream. Scream for every one of the six long years he’d wasted searching for her.
Laughing he placed the photo back inside his pocket. Time could be cruel, but not this time. He’d been given a bonus. Oh, yes, a definite bonus. Maybe he’d let Sarah live and just take the child. He liked that idea.
The throbbing in his groin increased, reminding him he had a mission to complete. Checking his gun, he screwed the silencer into place. The cameras had seen only what he wanted them to see, but the guard would have to be dealt with. He chuckled. Everyone knew about the corruption in the police ranks. The bitch had actually written an article on it. By the time they stopped chasing that lead, he’d be long gone.
The security guard glanced up as the elevator doors opened. “Everything okay, buddy?”
“Everything is just fine now,” he said, raising the gun. He chuckled again at the look of surprise that crossed the guard’s face, right before the bullet pierced his heart.
Murder is a sin.
“I told you, it’s not my fault. She’s the reason I have to kill.”
You like killing.
He whistled as he exited the building and glanced at the dumpster. He didn’t like killing. He was just cleaning up the trash.
Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to open up any minute. He listened to the whimpers coming from the alley. She was still there. An omen. It really was his lucky day. He approached her slowly, his voice low and gentle. “Aren’t you a little young to be out this late at night?” The girl stopped her whimpering and looked at him. He saw the fear reflected in her deep blue eyes slowly dissipate as she looked at the uniform. She nodded. Smiling, he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Excitement coursed through his body as she placed her small hand in his. This one would be a screamer. Whistling softly, he buckled her in and brushed the blonde curls away from her face. “Did you know tomorrow is Mother’s Day?”
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Corrine Larson bit her lip, stifling a scream as she turned slightly, struggling to open her eyes. She couldn’t remember if he’d beaten her for one hour or six, but she knew she was dying. Her body begging to shut down. She’d never heard the death rattle, but she recognized it now, deep inside her chest, with each shallow, painful breath.
Managing only a narrow slit with her left eye, she stared at him, conveying her hatred. He’d used her, and because of her, others would die. A small whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. It wasn’t for her. She didn’t mind dying. Except for. . .
Corrine fought the thoughts threatening to overwhelm her, concentrating on the new pain caused by the salty tears coursing down her face. Her tortured mind honed in on her one satisfaction. That one ray of light in the darkness: She hadn’t told him everything.
Drawing in one last ragged breath, she closed her eye, allowing the feel of the cool damp concrete to soothe her burning body. It was almost over. He whistled softly, a haunting rendition of I Saw the Light, as he loaded the gun.
Corrine turned her thoughts to Sarah and her child. He would kill them. Or worse. Another whimper escaped her lips. Why? Why hadn’t she just left it alone? Sarah had been safe. Her child had been safe. And now, because her reporter’s nose had sniffed a story they were all going to die.
Emotional pain washed over her in waves, drowning out the physical pain. Hurting even worse. There had to be something she could do. Some way to undo the damage she’d done.
She sifted through her memory, searching, rejecting and searching again. She’d written an article once about a psychic who believed your dying thoughts could travel across time and space, influencing the outcome of events to come. Maybe the psychic was right. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could reach across time and space. Warn Sarah.
Rough hands jerked at her hair, raising her from the bloody warehouse floor. She felt the cold steel pressed against the back of her head, heard the sound of the gun cocking. She’d always thought her dying thoughts would be of Rob or Gavin; instead, she honed on in the image of Sarah and her child. As the bullet shattered her brain, she held the image in her mind and silently screamed, He’s coming Sarah. He wants to destroy you.
# # #
Murder is a sin. You’ll go to hell.
“It wasn’t murder—it was self defense.”
He hated the voice in his head. She was always bitching at him. Always butting in. Preaching. A cruel smile twisted the handsome features. Today it didn’t matter. Today was a day of celebration. Soon he’d have what was rightfully his. All the years of waiting would be over. Whistling softly, he pulled away from the dumpster and parked the car. Just a few little things to finish. Pulling the police cap down low he entered the apartment building.
“Evening officer, can I help you?”
“Just delivering some luggage to Ms. Larson.”
The security guard checked the register. “Looks like Ms. Larson is out this evening.”
“Yeah, I know. She gave me a key and told me to set it inside the door. Working on some big story and needed to meet the mayor or somebody. Don’t know why the city wants to waste the taxpayers’ money and use me as her damn courier, but here I am.”
The guard grinned. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Shrugging in sympathy, he turned his attention to the crossword puzzle. “Go on up.”
He walked slowly, taking his time. The bitch had been tougher than he’d thought. She’d cost him a whole fucking day. He wouldn’t rush things now, though. Everything had to play out just right. All he had to do was make it look like she’d never left town.
What if she told someone?
The thought enraged him. He cursed softly as he slipped the key into the lock. That was the trouble with women—they talked too damn much.
And she wouldn’t scream, would she?
He clenched his fists. The bitch just wouldn’t scream. A deep ache started inside his groin. No screaming and no satisfaction. Too old. He liked them young, breasts just starting to bud. Like the one he’d glimpsed in the alley on his way in. Maybe she was still there. Maybe. . .
Unclenching his fists, he ignored the voice. It didn’t matter. He had what he wanted. Setting the luggage inside the door, he relocked it and pulled out the faded snapshot from his shirt pocket. He felt it then. Joy. Pure unadulterated joy. She would scream. Scream for every one of the six long years he’d wasted searching for her.
Laughing he placed the photo back inside his pocket. Time could be cruel, but not this time. He’d been given a bonus. Oh, yes, a definite bonus. Maybe he’d let Sarah live and just take the child. He liked that idea.
The throbbing in his groin increased, reminding him he had a mission to complete. Checking his gun, he screwed the silencer into place. The cameras had seen only what he wanted them to see, but the guard would have to be dealt with. He chuckled. Everyone knew about the corruption in the police ranks. The bitch had actually written an article on it. By the time they stopped chasing that lead, he’d be long gone.
The security guard glanced up as the elevator doors opened. “Everything okay, buddy?”
“Everything is just fine now,” he said, raising the gun. He chuckled again at the look of surprise that crossed the guard’s face, right before the bullet pierced his heart.
Murder is a sin.
“I told you, it’s not my fault. She’s the reason I have to kill.”
You like killing.
He whistled as he exited the building and glanced at the dumpster. He didn’t like killing. He was just cleaning up the trash.
Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to open up any minute. He listened to the whimpers coming from the alley. She was still there. An omen. It really was his lucky day. He approached her slowly, his voice low and gentle. “Aren’t you a little young to be out this late at night?” The girl stopped her whimpering and looked at him. He saw the fear reflected in her deep blue eyes slowly dissipate as she looked at the uniform. She nodded. Smiling, he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Excitement coursed through his body as she placed her small hand in his. This one would be a screamer. Whistling softly, he buckled her in and brushed the blonde curls away from her face. “Did you know tomorrow is Mother’s Day?”
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Monday, July 12, 2010
CREATIVE VISUALIZATION
Advocates of imagery have long held the belief that the imagination can be used for healing, relief of pain, and help the body overcome ailments, including depression.
Researchers at Ohio State University found that people with cancer using imagery along with chemotherapy were more relaxed and more positive about their care and prognosis than those who didn’t used imagery.
Researchers at Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine found that seven people who suffered from canker sore in their mouths reduced the frequency of outbreaks after they began visualizing that the sores were bathed in a coating of white blood cells.
At the University of South Florida researchers found that 19 men and women, ages 56 to 75 who had bronchitis and emphysema to rate their levels of anxiety, depression, fatigue and discomfort before and after they began using imagery. Researchers concluded that imagery significantly improved the quality of their lives.
A study at Yale also used patients suffering depression and concluded that they were helped by imagining scenes in which they were praised by people they admired, boosting their self-esteem.
Studies continue at Michigan State University, Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City, George Washington University in Washington D.C. and the University of Texas Health Sciences Center in Houston, as well as many other notable places.
The bottom line is—imagery and the use of your imagination can indeed help to improve your mental perceptions thereby improving your overall health.
HOW TO VISUALIZE:
Visualization is a person thing. Everyone will experience it in a different way. Some of you may have no problem closing your eyes and seeing images. Others may not see the image, but instead having a sensing of where the image is and what it is. In the beginning you should practice between 15 to 20 minutes a day. As you become more proficient you’ll find it takes only minutes to achieve the physical, mental and emotional effect you want to achieve.
1) Find a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed. Loosen your clothing and find a comfortably place to sit or lie down. Close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Feel your body begin to relax.
2) In the beginning I recommend you try simple imagery scenes. Imagine things you know. A room in your house. When you’re comfortable with what you’re seeing, or sensing, try to go into the scene. Walk from room to room until you’ve been through your entire house.
3) Once you’re comfortable doing places you know, stretch your imagination to create a “safe” place to play. Make it just the way you want it. Fill it with love, light, laughter. All the things YOU love the most.
4) Once you’ve captured the image and feeling of this special place, take that feeling inside you, allowing it to reach out to any areas that need healing, whether that healing is mental, emotional or physical. Hold the feeling for as long as you can.
5) When you’re comfortable add an affirmation to your imagery.
The perfect visualization is one that: 1) Is personal just to you; 2) is positive in every aspect; 3) is in present tense; 4) includes both visual content and emotional feelings.
“If the mind can conceive it, the heart can believe it—then you can achieve it.”
SEE IT—FEEL IT—WATCH IT HAPPEN IN YOUR LIFE!
Researchers at Ohio State University found that people with cancer using imagery along with chemotherapy were more relaxed and more positive about their care and prognosis than those who didn’t used imagery.
Researchers at Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine found that seven people who suffered from canker sore in their mouths reduced the frequency of outbreaks after they began visualizing that the sores were bathed in a coating of white blood cells.
At the University of South Florida researchers found that 19 men and women, ages 56 to 75 who had bronchitis and emphysema to rate their levels of anxiety, depression, fatigue and discomfort before and after they began using imagery. Researchers concluded that imagery significantly improved the quality of their lives.
A study at Yale also used patients suffering depression and concluded that they were helped by imagining scenes in which they were praised by people they admired, boosting their self-esteem.
Studies continue at Michigan State University, Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City, George Washington University in Washington D.C. and the University of Texas Health Sciences Center in Houston, as well as many other notable places.
The bottom line is—imagery and the use of your imagination can indeed help to improve your mental perceptions thereby improving your overall health.
HOW TO VISUALIZE:
Visualization is a person thing. Everyone will experience it in a different way. Some of you may have no problem closing your eyes and seeing images. Others may not see the image, but instead having a sensing of where the image is and what it is. In the beginning you should practice between 15 to 20 minutes a day. As you become more proficient you’ll find it takes only minutes to achieve the physical, mental and emotional effect you want to achieve.
1) Find a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed. Loosen your clothing and find a comfortably place to sit or lie down. Close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Feel your body begin to relax.
2) In the beginning I recommend you try simple imagery scenes. Imagine things you know. A room in your house. When you’re comfortable with what you’re seeing, or sensing, try to go into the scene. Walk from room to room until you’ve been through your entire house.
3) Once you’re comfortable doing places you know, stretch your imagination to create a “safe” place to play. Make it just the way you want it. Fill it with love, light, laughter. All the things YOU love the most.
4) Once you’ve captured the image and feeling of this special place, take that feeling inside you, allowing it to reach out to any areas that need healing, whether that healing is mental, emotional or physical. Hold the feeling for as long as you can.
5) When you’re comfortable add an affirmation to your imagery.
The perfect visualization is one that: 1) Is personal just to you; 2) is positive in every aspect; 3) is in present tense; 4) includes both visual content and emotional feelings.
“If the mind can conceive it, the heart can believe it—then you can achieve it.”
SEE IT—FEEL IT—WATCH IT HAPPEN IN YOUR LIFE!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Poetry - A Grandmother's Poem
I used this as the dedication in Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery. For 7 months I watched him grow, looked into his eyes on ultra-sounds, listened to the tiny beat of his heart. Just a moment in time.
To Caleb Gavin Fuson. Born December 7, 2008. Died December 7, 2008. A precious moment in time.
A GRANDMOTHER’S POEM
In just a short moment,
you became the softness
beneath my smile,
In just a short moment,
you became the twinkle
in my eyes,
In just a short moment,
you were my dreams
of the future,
The things we would do,
The things I would teach you,
The things you would teach me
In just a short moment we shared,
A lifetime of love,
And then you were gone,
To sleep with the angels.
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
To Caleb Gavin Fuson. Born December 7, 2008. Died December 7, 2008. A precious moment in time.
A GRANDMOTHER’S POEM
In just a short moment,
you became the softness
beneath my smile,
In just a short moment,
you became the twinkle
in my eyes,
In just a short moment,
you were my dreams
of the future,
The things we would do,
The things I would teach you,
The things you would teach me
In just a short moment we shared,
A lifetime of love,
And then you were gone,
To sleep with the angels.
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Writing Exercise - Novel
Writing Exercise – Novel
I’m often asked where the ideas for my novels originate. Having an extremely vivid imagination makes that hard to answer. They’re everywhere. Like the idea below it normally starts with a question.
You received an email this morning saying you were going to die today. What are you going to do?
From there, I create a character.
In this case my character is a hard nosed journalist for a local paper. She would normally just ignore a stupid email like the one she just opened – EXCEPT – in the past month seven people had died mysteriously, and the only thing they had in common was the fact that on the date they died they all received the same email.
So now I have my character and my idea. What is she going to do?
Dennie Burns had grown up in one the roughest parts of Chicago. She’d never learned to simply give in or give up. The local authorizes and FBI had gotten nowhere in their investigations into the seven mysterious deaths. She had 24 hours. She wasn’t going down without a fight.
Now the easy part is done. The rest is putting it all together.
Give it a try. I’d love to see how different people, different occupations, different lifestyles would respond to receiving the same message. The receiver doesn’t even have to be your main character. Your main character could be trying to help the receiver. Perhaps your character is a thief and they decide to pull off the biggest heist in history before they die. Your character is a serial killer that goes on a bloody rampage. Dress it up, have some fun. I hope you’ll share your thoughts or a short blog post to share with others. It’s been said there are no original stories left to write—but there are original ways to write them. This is an exercise in originality.
Linda S. Prather, Author
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery ($.99 - Amazon Kindle)
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery ($2.99 - Amazon Kindle)
I’m often asked where the ideas for my novels originate. Having an extremely vivid imagination makes that hard to answer. They’re everywhere. Like the idea below it normally starts with a question.
You received an email this morning saying you were going to die today. What are you going to do?
From there, I create a character.
In this case my character is a hard nosed journalist for a local paper. She would normally just ignore a stupid email like the one she just opened – EXCEPT – in the past month seven people had died mysteriously, and the only thing they had in common was the fact that on the date they died they all received the same email.
So now I have my character and my idea. What is she going to do?
Dennie Burns had grown up in one the roughest parts of Chicago. She’d never learned to simply give in or give up. The local authorizes and FBI had gotten nowhere in their investigations into the seven mysterious deaths. She had 24 hours. She wasn’t going down without a fight.
Now the easy part is done. The rest is putting it all together.
Give it a try. I’d love to see how different people, different occupations, different lifestyles would respond to receiving the same message. The receiver doesn’t even have to be your main character. Your main character could be trying to help the receiver. Perhaps your character is a thief and they decide to pull off the biggest heist in history before they die. Your character is a serial killer that goes on a bloody rampage. Dress it up, have some fun. I hope you’ll share your thoughts or a short blog post to share with others. It’s been said there are no original stories left to write—but there are original ways to write them. This is an exercise in originality.
Linda S. Prather, Author
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery ($.99 - Amazon Kindle)
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery ($2.99 - Amazon Kindle)
Monday, July 5, 2010
Reviews - What customers have said about The Gifts.
Every author loves reviews of their work. And the most beneficial reviews are, of course, their customers who have read the book. Below are just a few received when The Gifts was first released in 2006.
"I loved it. I read a lot of books and The Gifts is one of the best books I've ever read."
Carol Kissick, Mt. Sterling, KY.
"I was truly surprised, as I normally figure out the ending immediately. Suspenseful, and kept me guessing all the way to the end."
Bill Bennett, Richmond, KY
"I can't wait for the next one. Bring Jacody back for more."
Gladys Fugate, Winchester, KY
"I couldn't put it down. I love this book! Ms. Prather kept the storyline moving so you didn't want to put it down until you were done. I look forward to reading more Jacody Ives Mysteries in the future. Great job.!!
T. Kimbro, Cincinnati, Ohio
"Excellent. Just when you think you know...there is a new twist! Couldn't put it down. Absolutely loved it!!! Ms. Prather, I look forward to reading more of your works."
Marion Fischer, Kentucky
Prather’s characters become real to you—even the ghost! Her story is well developed and sufficiently complex to keep you wondering all the way to the end. The ending has both happy and sad results, but what better way than to have characters who are true to life. I’m hoping that Prather brings Jacody back to us in the future. I’ll be looking for her next book, and her next book and the one after that…hey, buy The Gifts! You’ll love it!
G. A. Bixler
IP Book Reviewer
These are just a few of the comments I've heard and kept and, of course, LOVED!
I'm anxiously awaiting customer reviews now of Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery, the prequel to The Gifts.
Love a good mystery--check it out at:
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003U4WVQ4/
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003UHVS9C/
Linda S. Prather, Author
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Coffee, Books--and some UNUSUAL recipes!
For those of us who love to read, it usually goes hand in hand with a nice cup of coffee, tea or hot chocolate late at night when everyone else is asleep, the house is quiet, and we can lose ourselves in the vivid imagination of our favorite author.
I love coffee. All hours of the day. For years I’ve listened to the media, and health professionals tell me over and over again—you’re killing yourself. And my family—you drink way too much coffee. I don’t see how you ever go to sleep.
I do sleep, though. And usually all night, just like a baby. So, coffee does not have the same effect on me that it does on some. In fact, according to recent health studies and research, coffee may very well have a different effect on every individual who drinks it. And for some—hey, guys, this is good news—it has health benefits.
According to the new study published in Cancer Epidemiology, Biomarkers Prevention, regular coffee drinkers have a 39 percent decreased risk of head and neck cancer and those who drink four or more cups a day have a decreased risk of cancers of the mouth and throat cancer. Don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m standing up cheering.
Coffee may also be good for memory, according to a study by neuroscientists at the University of Lisbon. It can help prevent the neural degeneration associated with brain disorders and aging. Hey, I'm upping my morning dosage. Maybe then I can remember what I'm supposed to be doing right now.
As I stated in the beginning—I love coffee. Good, old fashioned coffee brewed just to the right flavor. And because I love coffee so much, I keep an eye out for the occasional odd coffee recipe. Below are just a few I’ve found.
Not sure what to call this one.
4 tbs ground coffee; ½ tsp grated orange peel, dried; ¼ tsp cinnamon; 1 inch piece of vanilla bean; 1/8 tsp ground cloves. Blend all ingredients well and brew by your usual method. Makes about 4 cups.
I love coconut, but in my coffee? I called this one Hawaiian treat.
1 whole coconut; 2 cups milk; 4 cups strong coffee; 1 tbs sugar. Punch holes in the coconut and drain the liquid into a small saucepan. Bake the coconut in the oven (300F) for about half an hour. Use a hammer to break open the coconut, and scrape out the white coconut meat. Mince finely. Add the meat and milk to the liquid in your saucepan. Heat over low until thickened and creamy. Strain out the coconut pieces. Add hot coconut milk to coffee and sugar.
Anybody for some Halloween coffee?
1 tbs canned pumpkin; 2 tbs vanilla extract; ¼ tsp cinnamon, ground; 1 cup milk; ½ cup of strong coffee or ¼ cup of espresso. In a saucepan, heat milk and pumpkin until steaming. Stir in vanilla and cinnamon. Put mixture in a blender, and blend for 15-20 seconds until thick and foamy. Pour into tall glass, then add coffee (or espresso). Top with a sprinkling of pumpkin pie spice or ground nutmeg.
Think I'll try that one on a paranormal investigation. See if it opens up any new activity.
That’s just a few of the odder ones I’ve run across. Might work well in the evenings, but early morning coffee for me had better be quick and strong. And before we jump right in to--"but it's healthy" I’m not so sure this was the type of coffee the studies were referring to above.
Have an odd coffee recipe you’d like to share? I’ve love to hear it. I may even try it on one of those cold, dark nights, wrapped in a warm snuggie reading a good thriller or mystery.
Oh, and of course, if you’re a mystery lover looking for a good mystery to go with that good cup of coffee, I encourage you to take a peek at the Jacody Ives Mysteries now available on Amazon Kindle.
The Gifts: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003U4WVQ4/
Sacred Secrets: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003UHVS9C/
I love coffee. All hours of the day. For years I’ve listened to the media, and health professionals tell me over and over again—you’re killing yourself. And my family—you drink way too much coffee. I don’t see how you ever go to sleep.
I do sleep, though. And usually all night, just like a baby. So, coffee does not have the same effect on me that it does on some. In fact, according to recent health studies and research, coffee may very well have a different effect on every individual who drinks it. And for some—hey, guys, this is good news—it has health benefits.
According to the new study published in Cancer Epidemiology, Biomarkers Prevention, regular coffee drinkers have a 39 percent decreased risk of head and neck cancer and those who drink four or more cups a day have a decreased risk of cancers of the mouth and throat cancer. Don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m standing up cheering.
Coffee may also be good for memory, according to a study by neuroscientists at the University of Lisbon. It can help prevent the neural degeneration associated with brain disorders and aging. Hey, I'm upping my morning dosage. Maybe then I can remember what I'm supposed to be doing right now.
As I stated in the beginning—I love coffee. Good, old fashioned coffee brewed just to the right flavor. And because I love coffee so much, I keep an eye out for the occasional odd coffee recipe. Below are just a few I’ve found.
Not sure what to call this one.
4 tbs ground coffee; ½ tsp grated orange peel, dried; ¼ tsp cinnamon; 1 inch piece of vanilla bean; 1/8 tsp ground cloves. Blend all ingredients well and brew by your usual method. Makes about 4 cups.
I love coconut, but in my coffee? I called this one Hawaiian treat.
1 whole coconut; 2 cups milk; 4 cups strong coffee; 1 tbs sugar. Punch holes in the coconut and drain the liquid into a small saucepan. Bake the coconut in the oven (300F) for about half an hour. Use a hammer to break open the coconut, and scrape out the white coconut meat. Mince finely. Add the meat and milk to the liquid in your saucepan. Heat over low until thickened and creamy. Strain out the coconut pieces. Add hot coconut milk to coffee and sugar.
Anybody for some Halloween coffee?
1 tbs canned pumpkin; 2 tbs vanilla extract; ¼ tsp cinnamon, ground; 1 cup milk; ½ cup of strong coffee or ¼ cup of espresso. In a saucepan, heat milk and pumpkin until steaming. Stir in vanilla and cinnamon. Put mixture in a blender, and blend for 15-20 seconds until thick and foamy. Pour into tall glass, then add coffee (or espresso). Top with a sprinkling of pumpkin pie spice or ground nutmeg.
Think I'll try that one on a paranormal investigation. See if it opens up any new activity.
That’s just a few of the odder ones I’ve run across. Might work well in the evenings, but early morning coffee for me had better be quick and strong. And before we jump right in to--"but it's healthy" I’m not so sure this was the type of coffee the studies were referring to above.
Have an odd coffee recipe you’d like to share? I’ve love to hear it. I may even try it on one of those cold, dark nights, wrapped in a warm snuggie reading a good thriller or mystery.
Oh, and of course, if you’re a mystery lover looking for a good mystery to go with that good cup of coffee, I encourage you to take a peek at the Jacody Ives Mysteries now available on Amazon Kindle.
The Gifts: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003U4WVQ4/
Sacred Secrets: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003UHVS9C/
PROLOGUE - The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
PROLOGUE
Corrine Larson bit her lip, stifling a scream as she turned slightly, struggling to open her eyes. She couldn’t remember if he’d beaten her for one hour or six, but she knew she was dying. Her body begging to shut down. She’d never heard the death rattle, but she recognized it now, deep inside her chest, with each shallow, painful breath.
Managing only a narrow slit with her left eye, she stared at him, conveying her hatred. He’d used her, and because of her, others would die. A small whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. It wasn’t for her. She didn’t mind dying. Except for. . .
Corrine fought the thoughts threatening to overwhelm her, concentrating on the new pain caused by the salty tears coursing down her face. Her tortured mind honed in on her one satisfaction. That one ray of light in the darkness: She hadn’t told him everything.
Drawing in one last ragged breath, she closed her eye, allowing the feel of the cool damp concrete to soothe her burning body. It was almost over.
He whistled softly, a haunting rendition of I Saw the Light, as he loaded the gun.
Corrine turned her thoughts to Sarah and her child. He would kill them. Or worse. Another whimper escaped her lips. Why? Why hadn’t she just left it alone? Sarah had been safe. Her child had been safe. And now, because her reporter’s nose had sniffed a story they were all going to die.
Emotional pain washed over her in waves, drowning out the physical pain. Hurting even worse. There had to be something she could do. Some way to undo the damage she’d done.
She sifted through her memory, searching, rejecting and searching again. She’d written an article once about a psychic who believed your dying thoughts could travel across time and space, influencing the outcome of events to come. Maybe the psychic was right. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could reach across time and space. Warn Sarah.
Rough hands jerked at her hair, raising her from the bloody warehouse floor. She felt the cold steel pressed against the back of her head, heard the sound of the gun cocking. She’d always thought her dying thoughts would be of Rob or Gavin; instead, she honed on in the image of Sarah and her child. As the bullet shattered her brain, she held the image in her mind and silently screamed, He’s coming Sarah. He wants to destroy you.
# # #
Murder is a sin. You’ll go to hell.
“It wasn’t murder—it was self defense.”
He hated the voice in his head. She was always bitching at him. Always butting in. Preaching. A cruel smile twisted the handsome features. Today it didn’t matter. Today was a day of celebration. Soon he’d have what was rightfully his. All the years of waiting would be over. Whistling softly, he pulled away from the dumpster and parked the car. Just a few little things to finish. Pulling the police cap down low he entered the apartment building.
“Evening officer, can I help you?”
“Just delivering some luggage to Ms. Larson.”
The security guard checked the register. “Looks like Ms. Larson is out this evening.”
“Yeah, I know. She gave me a key and told me to set it inside the door. Working on some big story and needed to meet the mayor or somebody. Don’t know why the city wants to waste the taxpayers’ money and use me as her damn courier, but here I am.”
The guard grinned. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Shrugging in sympathy, he turned his attention to the crossword puzzle. “Go on up.”
He walked slowly, taking his time. The bitch had been tougher than he’d thought. She’d cost him a whole fucking day. He wouldn’t rush things now, though. Everything had to play out just right. All he had to do was make it look like she’d never left town.
What if she told someone?
The thought enraged him. He cursed softly as he slipped the key into the lock. That was the trouble with women—they talked too damn much.
And she wouldn’t scream, would she?
He clenched his fists. The bitch just wouldn’t scream. A deep ache started inside his groin. No screaming and no satisfaction. Too old. He liked them young, breasts just starting to bud. Like the one he’d glimpsed in the alley on his way in. Maybe she was still there. Maybe. . .
Unclenching his fists, he ignored the voice. It didn’t matter. He had what he wanted. Setting the luggage inside the door, he relocked it and pulled out the faded snapshot from his shirt pocket. He felt it then. Joy. Pure unadulterated joy. She would scream. Scream for every one of the six long years he’d wasted searching for her.
Laughing he placed the photo back inside his pocket. Time could be cruel, but not this time. He’d been given a bonus. Oh, yes, a definite bonus. Maybe he’d let Sarah live and just take the child. He liked that idea.
The throbbing in his groin increased, reminding him he had a mission to complete. Checking his gun, he screwed the silencer into place. The cameras had seen only what he wanted them to see, but the guard would have to be dealt with. He chuckled. Everyone knew about the corruption in the police ranks. The bitch had actually written an article on it. By the time they stopped chasing that lead, he’d be long gone.
The security guard glanced up as the elevator doors opened. “Everything okay, buddy?”
“Everything is just fine now,” he said, raising the gun. He chuckled again at the look of surprise that crossed the guard’s face, right before the bullet pierced his heart.
Murder is a sin.
“I told you, it’s not my fault. She’s the reason I have to kill.”
You like killing.
He whistled as he exited the building and glanced at the dumpster. He didn’t like killing. He was just cleaning up the trash.
Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to open up any minute. He listened to the whimpers coming from the alley. She was still there. An omen. It really was his lucky day. He approached her slowly, his voice low and gentle. “Aren’t you a little young to be out this late at night?” The girl stopped her whimpering and looked at him. He saw the fear reflected in her deep blue eyes slowly dissipate as she looked at the uniform. She nodded. Smiling, he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Excitement coursed through his body as she placed her small hand in his. This one would be a screamer. Whistling softly, he buckled her in and brushed the blonde curls away from her face. “Did you know tomorrow is Mother’s Day?”
GET YOUR COPY NOW FOR ONLY $.99 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003U4WV4Q4/
Corrine Larson bit her lip, stifling a scream as she turned slightly, struggling to open her eyes. She couldn’t remember if he’d beaten her for one hour or six, but she knew she was dying. Her body begging to shut down. She’d never heard the death rattle, but she recognized it now, deep inside her chest, with each shallow, painful breath.
Managing only a narrow slit with her left eye, she stared at him, conveying her hatred. He’d used her, and because of her, others would die. A small whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. It wasn’t for her. She didn’t mind dying. Except for. . .
Corrine fought the thoughts threatening to overwhelm her, concentrating on the new pain caused by the salty tears coursing down her face. Her tortured mind honed in on her one satisfaction. That one ray of light in the darkness: She hadn’t told him everything.
Drawing in one last ragged breath, she closed her eye, allowing the feel of the cool damp concrete to soothe her burning body. It was almost over.
He whistled softly, a haunting rendition of I Saw the Light, as he loaded the gun.
Corrine turned her thoughts to Sarah and her child. He would kill them. Or worse. Another whimper escaped her lips. Why? Why hadn’t she just left it alone? Sarah had been safe. Her child had been safe. And now, because her reporter’s nose had sniffed a story they were all going to die.
Emotional pain washed over her in waves, drowning out the physical pain. Hurting even worse. There had to be something she could do. Some way to undo the damage she’d done.
She sifted through her memory, searching, rejecting and searching again. She’d written an article once about a psychic who believed your dying thoughts could travel across time and space, influencing the outcome of events to come. Maybe the psychic was right. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could reach across time and space. Warn Sarah.
Rough hands jerked at her hair, raising her from the bloody warehouse floor. She felt the cold steel pressed against the back of her head, heard the sound of the gun cocking. She’d always thought her dying thoughts would be of Rob or Gavin; instead, she honed on in the image of Sarah and her child. As the bullet shattered her brain, she held the image in her mind and silently screamed, He’s coming Sarah. He wants to destroy you.
# # #
Murder is a sin. You’ll go to hell.
“It wasn’t murder—it was self defense.”
He hated the voice in his head. She was always bitching at him. Always butting in. Preaching. A cruel smile twisted the handsome features. Today it didn’t matter. Today was a day of celebration. Soon he’d have what was rightfully his. All the years of waiting would be over. Whistling softly, he pulled away from the dumpster and parked the car. Just a few little things to finish. Pulling the police cap down low he entered the apartment building.
“Evening officer, can I help you?”
“Just delivering some luggage to Ms. Larson.”
The security guard checked the register. “Looks like Ms. Larson is out this evening.”
“Yeah, I know. She gave me a key and told me to set it inside the door. Working on some big story and needed to meet the mayor or somebody. Don’t know why the city wants to waste the taxpayers’ money and use me as her damn courier, but here I am.”
The guard grinned. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Shrugging in sympathy, he turned his attention to the crossword puzzle. “Go on up.”
He walked slowly, taking his time. The bitch had been tougher than he’d thought. She’d cost him a whole fucking day. He wouldn’t rush things now, though. Everything had to play out just right. All he had to do was make it look like she’d never left town.
What if she told someone?
The thought enraged him. He cursed softly as he slipped the key into the lock. That was the trouble with women—they talked too damn much.
And she wouldn’t scream, would she?
He clenched his fists. The bitch just wouldn’t scream. A deep ache started inside his groin. No screaming and no satisfaction. Too old. He liked them young, breasts just starting to bud. Like the one he’d glimpsed in the alley on his way in. Maybe she was still there. Maybe. . .
Unclenching his fists, he ignored the voice. It didn’t matter. He had what he wanted. Setting the luggage inside the door, he relocked it and pulled out the faded snapshot from his shirt pocket. He felt it then. Joy. Pure unadulterated joy. She would scream. Scream for every one of the six long years he’d wasted searching for her.
Laughing he placed the photo back inside his pocket. Time could be cruel, but not this time. He’d been given a bonus. Oh, yes, a definite bonus. Maybe he’d let Sarah live and just take the child. He liked that idea.
The throbbing in his groin increased, reminding him he had a mission to complete. Checking his gun, he screwed the silencer into place. The cameras had seen only what he wanted them to see, but the guard would have to be dealt with. He chuckled. Everyone knew about the corruption in the police ranks. The bitch had actually written an article on it. By the time they stopped chasing that lead, he’d be long gone.
The security guard glanced up as the elevator doors opened. “Everything okay, buddy?”
“Everything is just fine now,” he said, raising the gun. He chuckled again at the look of surprise that crossed the guard’s face, right before the bullet pierced his heart.
Murder is a sin.
“I told you, it’s not my fault. She’s the reason I have to kill.”
You like killing.
He whistled as he exited the building and glanced at the dumpster. He didn’t like killing. He was just cleaning up the trash.
Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to open up any minute. He listened to the whimpers coming from the alley. She was still there. An omen. It really was his lucky day. He approached her slowly, his voice low and gentle. “Aren’t you a little young to be out this late at night?” The girl stopped her whimpering and looked at him. He saw the fear reflected in her deep blue eyes slowly dissipate as she looked at the uniform. She nodded. Smiling, he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Excitement coursed through his body as she placed her small hand in his. This one would be a screamer. Whistling softly, he buckled her in and brushed the blonde curls away from her face. “Did you know tomorrow is Mother’s Day?”
GET YOUR COPY NOW FOR ONLY $.99 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003U4WV4Q4/
Saturday, July 3, 2010
E-Book vs. Printed Book--How do I sell this?
Having just published my first two e-books, I’m just starting to notice the difference in sales experience, and sales tactics. With published books, you have book signings, speeches and readings. People get a chance to “eye ball” the author. A little peek into your personal life and who you are. One thing every publisher knows—an author doesn’t just sell books. First they have to sell themselves.
So how do you sell yourself? You smile a lot. You’re open to questions, and in my case, with the exception perhaps of signing a series of books, I don’t sit down. Why, you ask? It’s ingrained into me that standing in the presence of my customers is a small show of respect. Ask any attorney in the courtroom why they stand when addressing the Judge. It’s an ingrained “old time” show of respect. Sort of like tipping your hat to the ladies, opening car doors for women or older men. Wearing the proper apparel to the funeral home or church. Respect. My customer is my future, and if they’re willing to shell out hard-earned cash to try my product then they deserve that small show of respect.
E-books are a very different animal, so to speak. You have no personal appearances. No chance to show respect to your customers, and the customer has no chance to “eye ball” the author. You’re totally dependent on your on-line persona. And building a successful on-line persona takes time, dedication and diligence. I find myself now spending several hours a day blogging, visiting other sites, posting reviews or releases, chatting with anyone and everyone who wants to chat and starting to build my on-line persona.
I did a little--COLD CALLING! My respect for cold calling telephone sale’s operators has truly gone up in the last few days. I still don’t like them calling me, which leaves me with a very specific problem. How do I sell books without becoming an obnoxious person? I’ve met some obnoxious authors, and grinned to myself as people would actually avoid that part of the bookstore. Go down another aisle just so they didn’t have to pass their table. That’s truly not me. If I have to be rude, crude and obnoxious in an attempt to sell a book—not going to happen.
So who am I? I’m an author. I write murder mysteries with a paranormal twist, and just a little romantic spice. When my first book was released a reader told me “It’s the best book I ever read.” I couldn’t help the thought that immediately popped into my head. “Gee, she must not read a lot.”
The Jacody Ives Mysteries are, in my humble opinion, really good books. I wanted to write a book that I would read. A book that I would buy. And with both, I set them aside for several months prior to coming back for a proof reading. I laughed at myself, because I got caught up in the story and forgot about proofing, but I realized one thing during that—I would buy these books. They aren’t the “best” books I’ve ever read, but as a reader I truly enjoyed them. I laughed. Cried, and found at times I just couldn’t put them down. Sure I knew the story. Knew the characters. But it had been months, and in some ways I still amazed even myself with the twists and turns and directions the characters took.
Oh, but back to who am I? Well, I smile a lot. Sometimes that takes a little work. Life can be stressful. I use meditation and self-hypnosis to keep me mentally, emotionally and physically fit. I teach metaphysical classes on mediation, self-hypnosis, dream analysis and colors for healing. I have two sons, and three beautiful grandchildren. Six if you count the two dogs and turtle, Murdock. Coby and I have been together for 11 years now, and every year has been better than the one before. I love people. I love life. I love reading and writing. As many of you know my first writing inspiration was “Old Yeller”. Why? Because it made me laugh and it made me cry. Real characters doing real things. Characters you could connect with and see through their eyes. That is the type of author I am aspiring to be. I feel I did that with both the Jacody Ives Mysteries, but there’s always room for improvement and I truly look forward to what my characters will do in the next one.
So why did I go e-book? For the last year I’ve been struggling with my feelings that books were priced entirely too high. Readers want to read. Authors want to write. We want to make a living, of course, and most of us will not totally realize that dream 100% for many years. I toyed with self-publishing in print, but with the economy down I knew I would be taking a real chance putting out a self-published book. And even the self-published prices for my book were higher than I would pay. I researched e-book sales, royalties and prices. And I liked what I saw. Readers are able to try a new author for less than a dollar. You can’t even try a new coffee at Star Bucks for less than a dollar. What a wonderful thing. So for me, at least in the current economic climate e-books made sense. Do I still want to publish a printed copy? Yes, I do. I have libraries that purchased my first book eagerly seeking the second. I have readers that I know don’t own an e-reader, nor do they want to. So by publishing only by e-book I’m not just losing sales, I’m letting down some of former readers. I’m still working on that. Perhaps in the new few months I’ll find a solution. But it will have to include a printed book at a decent price that’s compatible with best sellers.
So, that’s just a little about me. Within the next week I’ll have the first 2 to 3 chapters of The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery and Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery available for download. I’ve always wondered why we’re willing to give an agent and/or publisher 30 pages to read to decide if they want to take us on as clients, but we don’t do the same for potential customers. Aren’t our customers just as important if not more important? I believe they are. Therefore with all future books all my readers will have a chance not just to preview a few pages, but to actually see somewhere between 25 to 30 pages of the book. Give it a whirl before they shell out the cash to buy it. I’m currently working on revising and expanding my website to include these download pages, as well as downloads of mediation and self-hypnosis programs.
Have a safe and happy July 4th holiday.
So how do you sell yourself? You smile a lot. You’re open to questions, and in my case, with the exception perhaps of signing a series of books, I don’t sit down. Why, you ask? It’s ingrained into me that standing in the presence of my customers is a small show of respect. Ask any attorney in the courtroom why they stand when addressing the Judge. It’s an ingrained “old time” show of respect. Sort of like tipping your hat to the ladies, opening car doors for women or older men. Wearing the proper apparel to the funeral home or church. Respect. My customer is my future, and if they’re willing to shell out hard-earned cash to try my product then they deserve that small show of respect.
E-books are a very different animal, so to speak. You have no personal appearances. No chance to show respect to your customers, and the customer has no chance to “eye ball” the author. You’re totally dependent on your on-line persona. And building a successful on-line persona takes time, dedication and diligence. I find myself now spending several hours a day blogging, visiting other sites, posting reviews or releases, chatting with anyone and everyone who wants to chat and starting to build my on-line persona.
I did a little--COLD CALLING! My respect for cold calling telephone sale’s operators has truly gone up in the last few days. I still don’t like them calling me, which leaves me with a very specific problem. How do I sell books without becoming an obnoxious person? I’ve met some obnoxious authors, and grinned to myself as people would actually avoid that part of the bookstore. Go down another aisle just so they didn’t have to pass their table. That’s truly not me. If I have to be rude, crude and obnoxious in an attempt to sell a book—not going to happen.
So who am I? I’m an author. I write murder mysteries with a paranormal twist, and just a little romantic spice. When my first book was released a reader told me “It’s the best book I ever read.” I couldn’t help the thought that immediately popped into my head. “Gee, she must not read a lot.”
The Jacody Ives Mysteries are, in my humble opinion, really good books. I wanted to write a book that I would read. A book that I would buy. And with both, I set them aside for several months prior to coming back for a proof reading. I laughed at myself, because I got caught up in the story and forgot about proofing, but I realized one thing during that—I would buy these books. They aren’t the “best” books I’ve ever read, but as a reader I truly enjoyed them. I laughed. Cried, and found at times I just couldn’t put them down. Sure I knew the story. Knew the characters. But it had been months, and in some ways I still amazed even myself with the twists and turns and directions the characters took.
Oh, but back to who am I? Well, I smile a lot. Sometimes that takes a little work. Life can be stressful. I use meditation and self-hypnosis to keep me mentally, emotionally and physically fit. I teach metaphysical classes on mediation, self-hypnosis, dream analysis and colors for healing. I have two sons, and three beautiful grandchildren. Six if you count the two dogs and turtle, Murdock. Coby and I have been together for 11 years now, and every year has been better than the one before. I love people. I love life. I love reading and writing. As many of you know my first writing inspiration was “Old Yeller”. Why? Because it made me laugh and it made me cry. Real characters doing real things. Characters you could connect with and see through their eyes. That is the type of author I am aspiring to be. I feel I did that with both the Jacody Ives Mysteries, but there’s always room for improvement and I truly look forward to what my characters will do in the next one.
So why did I go e-book? For the last year I’ve been struggling with my feelings that books were priced entirely too high. Readers want to read. Authors want to write. We want to make a living, of course, and most of us will not totally realize that dream 100% for many years. I toyed with self-publishing in print, but with the economy down I knew I would be taking a real chance putting out a self-published book. And even the self-published prices for my book were higher than I would pay. I researched e-book sales, royalties and prices. And I liked what I saw. Readers are able to try a new author for less than a dollar. You can’t even try a new coffee at Star Bucks for less than a dollar. What a wonderful thing. So for me, at least in the current economic climate e-books made sense. Do I still want to publish a printed copy? Yes, I do. I have libraries that purchased my first book eagerly seeking the second. I have readers that I know don’t own an e-reader, nor do they want to. So by publishing only by e-book I’m not just losing sales, I’m letting down some of former readers. I’m still working on that. Perhaps in the new few months I’ll find a solution. But it will have to include a printed book at a decent price that’s compatible with best sellers.
So, that’s just a little about me. Within the next week I’ll have the first 2 to 3 chapters of The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery and Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery available for download. I’ve always wondered why we’re willing to give an agent and/or publisher 30 pages to read to decide if they want to take us on as clients, but we don’t do the same for potential customers. Aren’t our customers just as important if not more important? I believe they are. Therefore with all future books all my readers will have a chance not just to preview a few pages, but to actually see somewhere between 25 to 30 pages of the book. Give it a whirl before they shell out the cash to buy it. I’m currently working on revising and expanding my website to include these download pages, as well as downloads of mediation and self-hypnosis programs.
Have a safe and happy July 4th holiday.
Friday, July 2, 2010
BOOK REVIEW - Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
BREAKING NEWS: Just released on Amazon Kindle - Linda Prather and Charles W. Prather, Jr.
Sacred Secrets:
A Jacody Ives Mystery
By Linda S. Prather
Manuscript
365 Pages
I thoroughly enjoyed having a very small part in being a reviewer for a manuscript, especially for the exciting, supernatural suspense novel, Sacred Secrets: A Jacody Ives Mystery, written by Linda S. Prather! This is a prequel to her first novel, The Gifts, which I earlier reviewed; this prequel certainly sets the stage for future Jacody Ives mysteries.
Lydia called to anybody who would listen. She had been planning on going home to her father, had already written him to tell him she was coming, and bringing, Ginger. Even when she was murdered and buried, she still needed, wanted to go home, “Please . . .” she whispered.
Gavin McAllister heard her in his dreams. “Please,” she whispered. Gavin knew that evil had claimed another victim.
Jacody Ives is, of course, the primary character and is a private investigator. Some call him Gavin. Gavin’s brother, Rob, and his partner, Carl, both FBI agents, often aid him in his work.
Father Michael heard Lydia’s whispers as well; but he knew more than that, and he couldn’t face it, couldn’t live with it. He tried to talk to Father Peter, lamenting that he no longer felt God was with him. Could he find absolution? Could he send Lydia home . . . and still save . . . her? Praying, he finally knew what he must do!
Katie O’Connor had been given a second-chance in life. She had been very ill since she was 12 and knew that, if she didn’t receive a heart transplant, her life expectancy was less than a year. But, out of the blue, she was called to come to the hospital. They had a heart for her! After verification that it would work, she was rushed into surgery and the transplant was successfully completed! But when she woke up, drowsy, she heard “Dig the hole, dig it deep...I like the liver and the hearts. The worms...” and she screamed! “Please . . .get the doctor . . .take it out!” (p.61)
Destiny...this book is about destiny and what it takes to actually have destiny “happen.” Katie O’Connor was caught in a series of events that had started 25 years ago. When she tried to find people with whom she had talked, she learned that they had died years ago. When she tried to find the individual who had given her the new heart, she learned that it was a beloved friend from her past.
So many things were happening, if one person did not follow what steps fate laid out, then a whole new set of events had to be created. For Katie O’Connor and for Jacody Ives, they were caught within a struggle against an evil that would continue to kill unless they followed the paths of destiny that were placed before them.
Prather has a rare skill in incorporating aspects of the supernatural into her stories. There is rarely a mention of who has those skills—readers just know it by coming to know the various characters.
A supporting activity of placing poetry between chapters, including beautiful, complementary words written by her son, Charles W. Prather, Jr., adds greatly to readers’ enjoyment.
Truthfully? I was hooked with the Prologue! Except for personal breaks, I read straight through, turning page after page, wonderfully surprised by each new step of fate and how each was mystically woven into one of the best novels I’ve had the pleasure to read! Be assured I’ll be keeping track and letting you know when Sacred Secrets is available! It’s a MUST-READ!
G. A. Bixler
IP Book Reviewer
Sacred Secrets:
A Jacody Ives Mystery
By Linda S. Prather
Manuscript
365 Pages
I thoroughly enjoyed having a very small part in being a reviewer for a manuscript, especially for the exciting, supernatural suspense novel, Sacred Secrets: A Jacody Ives Mystery, written by Linda S. Prather! This is a prequel to her first novel, The Gifts, which I earlier reviewed; this prequel certainly sets the stage for future Jacody Ives mysteries.
Lydia called to anybody who would listen. She had been planning on going home to her father, had already written him to tell him she was coming, and bringing, Ginger. Even when she was murdered and buried, she still needed, wanted to go home, “Please . . .” she whispered.
Gavin McAllister heard her in his dreams. “Please,” she whispered. Gavin knew that evil had claimed another victim.
Jacody Ives is, of course, the primary character and is a private investigator. Some call him Gavin. Gavin’s brother, Rob, and his partner, Carl, both FBI agents, often aid him in his work.
Father Michael heard Lydia’s whispers as well; but he knew more than that, and he couldn’t face it, couldn’t live with it. He tried to talk to Father Peter, lamenting that he no longer felt God was with him. Could he find absolution? Could he send Lydia home . . . and still save . . . her? Praying, he finally knew what he must do!
Katie O’Connor had been given a second-chance in life. She had been very ill since she was 12 and knew that, if she didn’t receive a heart transplant, her life expectancy was less than a year. But, out of the blue, she was called to come to the hospital. They had a heart for her! After verification that it would work, she was rushed into surgery and the transplant was successfully completed! But when she woke up, drowsy, she heard “Dig the hole, dig it deep...I like the liver and the hearts. The worms...” and she screamed! “Please . . .get the doctor . . .take it out!” (p.61)
Destiny...this book is about destiny and what it takes to actually have destiny “happen.” Katie O’Connor was caught in a series of events that had started 25 years ago. When she tried to find people with whom she had talked, she learned that they had died years ago. When she tried to find the individual who had given her the new heart, she learned that it was a beloved friend from her past.
So many things were happening, if one person did not follow what steps fate laid out, then a whole new set of events had to be created. For Katie O’Connor and for Jacody Ives, they were caught within a struggle against an evil that would continue to kill unless they followed the paths of destiny that were placed before them.
Prather has a rare skill in incorporating aspects of the supernatural into her stories. There is rarely a mention of who has those skills—readers just know it by coming to know the various characters.
A supporting activity of placing poetry between chapters, including beautiful, complementary words written by her son, Charles W. Prather, Jr., adds greatly to readers’ enjoyment.
Truthfully? I was hooked with the Prologue! Except for personal breaks, I read straight through, turning page after page, wonderfully surprised by each new step of fate and how each was mystically woven into one of the best novels I’ve had the pleasure to read! Be assured I’ll be keeping track and letting you know when Sacred Secrets is available! It’s a MUST-READ!
G. A. Bixler
IP Book Reviewer
Thursday, July 1, 2010
WIN AN AMAZON GIFT CARD!
WIN AMAZON GIFT CARD!
JULY AUTHORS READER APPRECIATION
Okay, here’s the deal. During the month of July, if you purchase a copy of:
THE GIFTS, A JACODY IVES MYSTERY (available now for $.99) and/or
SACRED SECRETS, A JACODY IVES MYSTERY (available after July 4, 2010)
and post a comment to this blog giving date of purchase, your first name and email address, or my blog at www.myspace.com/giftofdreams you become eligible to win an Amazon Gift Card.
Both Kindle and Smashwords purchases count. (Smashwords has ePub format that is compatible with the Nook)
No Kindle, Nook or iPad? Have no fear! I got you covered. :-) You can download a free e-reader application of your choice. Links are right over there.
But, what do you win?
You can win an Amazon gift card! For how much?
Well dear reader, that depends on how many people enter! You see...
0-30 entries = one $20 amazon gift card will be randomly awarded
31-50 entries = prize increases to $40 amazon gift card
51-70 entries = prize increases to $60 amazon gift card
71-90 entries = prize increases to $80 amazon gift card
91+ entries = prize increases to $100 amazon gift card
Make sense?
Okay, but your subject title says Amazon gift cardS. As in, multiple.
Very observant. You see, there are several other authors participating in this contest as well. Buy a copy of their book and head on over to their blog to enter their contest as well for more chances to win. Simply post a comment to the blog in the comment section, leaving your date of purchase, first name and email address and you’re done.
So to sum it up, buy a $.99 to $3 book and get a chance to win $100 on Amazon if enough people enter. Not a bad deal, I'd say!
Below are all the awesome Indie authors involved.
Fantasy
Jessica Billings (YA)
To enter - http://jessicabillings.weebly.com/JULY-CONTEST.html
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003F779P4/
Jason Letts (YA)
To enter - www.powerlessbooks.com/blog
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003OQUOFI
J.M. Pierce (YA)
To enter - http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=113897971961168&ref=ts
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/1451591284/
R.A. Scully
To enter - http://www.highwizardofsilvinesh.com/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003QCIQLY/
Danielle Bourdon
To enter - http://www.daniellebourdon.com/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003PPDHWA/
Tracy Alley
To enter - http://tinyurl.com/28zgf2f
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/Erichs-Plea-Witchcraft-Wars-ebook/dp/B003HS4V4S
Science Fiction
Imogen Rose (YA)
To enter - http://www.facebook.com/pages/PORTAL/243074017116
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0035RPGOK
Shannon Esposito
To enter - http://murderinparadise.com/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003RISP1S/
Mystery
T.L. Haddix
To enter - http://tlhaddix.com/content/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003ES5S7U/
Karen Cantwell -humorous mystery
To enter - http://fictionfordessert.blogspot.com
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/Monkeys-Barbara-Murder-Mystery-ebook/dp/B003SE7O40
Linda S. Prather
To enter - http://blogs.myspace.com/giftofdreams
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003U4WVQ4/
Thriller
Mary McDonald
To enter - http://www.mmcdonald64.blogspot.com/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003PPDB8K/
Women’s Fiction & Romance
Donna Fasano
To enter - http://donnafaz.pnn.com/15963-the-front-page
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B002ZNJL78/
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/9466
Claudia D. Christian-Dark Paranormal Romance
To enter - http://claudiadchristian.com/blog/2010/06/amazon-gift-card-contest-july-1-july-31-2010/
To Buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0036B8YNA
OR - http://www.amazon.com/Vicious-Bliss-fallen-2010-ebook/dp/B003O68EUU
General Fiction
R.J. Keller
To enter - http://rjkeller.wordpress.com/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B001MTEN6K/
Kristen Tsetsi
To enter - http://kristentsetsi.wordpress.com/
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B002NPBSJM/
OR http://www.amazon.com/dp/B002NGO5NC/
Humor
Dave Conifer
To enter - http://www.facebook.com/daveconiferfanpage
To buy - http://www.amazon.com/Snodgrass-Vacation-ebook/dp/B002U0KXR8/
Contest runs from July 1st-July 31st.
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