Today's the Day! {Fly Away Home Debut}

There are always these moments in your life when the things you've dreamed of for years and years finally happen. Sometimes it doesn't feel anything like you thought it would--sometimes it feels too natural and easy. I'm tempted to think, "Why doesn't it feel monumental?" but I wonder if it's all the more monumental because it feels natural; because, for once, a dream that you had as a little kid has made it through the wild woods of adolescence and through the first few years of adulthood and is finally here.

Today's like that. Today I'm writing this as a published author and people are going to buy my book and I will be a professional writer because I've actually made a little money off one of my projects. And it feels nothing and everything like I thought it would. It's really quite wonderful.

Guys, Fly Away Home is available for purchase on:

Amazon and in the Kindle store!

In addition, it's Valentine's Day. It's a day for love. It's a day to share special gifts with the special people in your life. Lucky for you, I don't have a guy in my life with whom I plan to spend the day. That means I don't have to buy him a gift and I can offer one to you instead! :) 

I am giving away 2 copies of Fly Away Home to one extremely lucky winner! The idea here is that you will have one copy for yourself and give the other copy to someone you love to show them that you love them so much you're willing to give them a brand new book autographed by the author herself. Yep! Both copies will be autographed by me. Not that my signature is worth much, but having a first edition book signed by the author is a bit of a fun thing.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Also, to kick off this fabulous little debut party, I'm going to be showing up in three places today!

The Penslayer

Jade Kerrion

The Second Sentence

Many thanks to those of you who pre-ordered in the past several days; you are the finest of friends and hold the honor of being my first ever batch of book-signing. ;)

Pre-Orders Open Now!

Happy Day-After-Tomorrow-Is-The-Big-One Day! Many of you are just as excited as I am about being able to purchase/hold/own/enjoy Fly Away Home and all I can say is: just a couple more days! 

I wanted to announce something that may or may not influence you in your buying decisions:

I earn more per copy if you buy directly from me and not Amazon.com. Yes, I know this sounds like avarice, but I just thought I would let you know that copies will be available from me personally. If you would like to purchase from me, you will get an autographed copy of Fly Away Home which is something you would not get buying off of Amazon. I know that some of you already wanted copies that were autographed (really, it's a little embarrassing) so I thought I would let you know! You may order/pre-order copies starting today! Just click on the Ruby Elixir Press page and follow instructions.

Re-cap:

• If you buy a book directly from me, you will get it autographed with a personal note!
• If you order from me, you may start pre-ordering today!

I misunderstood a bit of the instructions on Createspace's proofing system which means that when I approved the proof today, it told me that it might take a few days to show up on Amazon which could possibly delay your ability to purchase it on Amazon right on Valentine's Day. I am most seriously displeased I didn't realize that before. Prayers that they'd be speedier than they say would be most appreciated! For now, orders can come to me and we shall see what happens come Valentine's day!

Watercress Goes With the Ears

I feel a wee bit foolish for thinking I was the only one who had read A.A. Milne's Once on a Time. No I don't; I feel foolish for not having heard of it. Or maybe I feel privileged. It isn't often you are able to accidentally save a precious fairy tale in complete freshness till the time you are twenty-one. I feel there is a moral in that, if you like morals. I knew I was going to like the darling when I searched Amazon for random titles by A.A. Milne, hoping against hope he'd have written something readable besides Winnie-the-Pooh, poetry, and The Red House Mystery. There was Once on a Time. A fairytale...why then, it was bound to be nonsensical!

I am such an easy win for nonsense. Wanting to walk circumspectly in the art of spending rare book money, I clicked "read first few pages" and came to the introduction:

"For whom, then, is the book intended? That is the trouble. Unless I can say, 'For those, young or old, who like the things which I like,' I find it difficult to answer. Is it a children's book? Well, what do we mean by that? Is The Wind in the Willows a children's book? Is Alice in Wonderland? Is Treasure Island? These are masterpieces which we read with pleasure as children, but with how much more pleasure when we are grown-up...I confess that I cannot grapple with these difficult problems. But I am very sure of this: that no one can write a book which children will like, unless he writes it for himself first...but as you can see, I am still finding it difficult to explain just what sort of book it is. Perhaps no explanation is necessary. Read in it what you like; read it to whomever you like; it can only fall into one of the two classes. Either you will enjoy it, or you won't. It is that sort of book."

Milne was such a peach when introducing himself; I've never met a better man for the job. He sold me on Once on a Time just by that passage. I ordered the book, received it, and gobbled it. If you're looking for a fresh, hilarious, sweet fairy-tale not so many people have read, your looking days are probably done. In fact, when I finished it last night, there were so many lovely bits I didn't want to forget, I did a proper bit of Sharpie Therapy to remember them by:

This is not one. This is pretty typography.

You really should read it.

In other news, Fly Away Home debuts in just two days!!! Very soon you shall be able to buy a copy, or maybe even gift one to a person you love. But the point of this post was this: "Please read Once on a Time."

That's all. And if it interests anyone, I share a birthday with Wiggs's Very Good Day. ^.^ (and the title of this post reflects the title of a chapter in the book.

Now Receiving: February's Chatterbox!

Charmings sirs and madams, it is my pleasure to announce February's topic for Chatterbox! I am going to be a pill and not let you write about love in this month of romantic frippery. I am much too independent & etc. to let you off that easy. No, February's topic for the Chatterbox event will be...

Criticism

Criticism is one of those things that you can't live without. Want to move ahead in your life? Want to develop your character and fulfill your goals and live a life actually worth living? Criticism is going to be a big part of that along the way. It's not always fun or easy to hear. As writers, we often have it even tougher than many people because we succumb ourselves to criticism every time we submit a manuscript, send out our novels to beta-readers, or win a contest. I was handed a file full of criticism (gentle and helpful criticism but still criticism) for The Windy Side of Care and asked to perform surgery on my brain-child. I know it's going to make TWC that much better; I am excited to begin polishing this story for publication. It's all good, but it's all criticism. And that's only one area in my life.

Your characters are going to encounter criticism in your novel. At least, they better. Maybe it's unsought criticism; maybe they asked for it and didn't expect their listener to actually let loose with a broken dam of thoughts on the topic. Critics can be your best friend or your worst enemy...a delicate balance of vital help that can drag you into failure or into success depending on how much you trust, apply, let go, or deny. What a witch's brew. As always, link up with your posts below. I am looking forward to reading this topic! :)

One Week More!

In exactly one week, Fly Away Home will be available for purchase! I'm getting rather excited and I know you are too, so cheers for that. I don't know what I expected would happen when my "career" finally got going, but I find that if I had the leisure, I could definitely make it a full-time job. By that, I mean hours-wise; I am not naive enough to suppose I'll make enough money with which to support myself. My days have shaken down into a fairly predictable pattern, which is good:

I set my alarm for 7:00 (working my way down to 6:30 but it's still so dark I haven't the heart to leave my bed) then get up, read my Bible, work out, shower and then head downstairs for breakfast, family devotions, and chores. My writing works starts when the family responsibilities are done and continues till lunch which is around one o'clock; we have lunch and more chores and then I head back up for more work till three o'clock or so when I fold my computer in relief and pick up a book (reading through Eric Mextaxas biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer) or go for a walk, reply to letters or generally emerge from the Lair. By five, I join the rest of the house in cleaning up from the school day and start making dinner; the evening is for family activities and relaxation.

"Work", of course, is dictated by changing things; sometimes I'll have interviews to fill out, guest posts to write, or bloggers to query about these things. Other times I will need to reply to emails, work on my own blogging, research, or catch up on other writing blogs. And of course there is the subject of actual writing which I find essential to being a writer.

Anon, Sir, Anon is nearing the 30,000 word mark which doesn't seem like a lot, I know. For me, however, it is quite satisfactory, as I had to give up The Baby in confusion after only 21,000, hoping to rework it in the future. I have fed the book so far in installments to a friend who appeared to find my chapter endings cliff-hanging enough to keep asking for the next bit rather incessantly. Unfortunately, she has nibbled through all ten of the finished chapters which means I need to keep at it if I'm to avoid having myself assassinated. Her reactions so far, though, have been satisfactory, so all is well. I let quite a few people read Fly Away Home to help me get it ready for publication, but because Anon, Sir, Anon is a mystery, I am going to keep the circle of beta-readers very small. "Keep it secret, keep it safe." I don't want to spoil the mystery for my readers. Believe me, it'll be for your own good!

What is up in your writing life? New projects? Difficulties? I want to hear about them. I love a good row.

"Shall the devil do his own investigating?"

In writing a mystery, I am biting off a piece of work with which I am none too familiar. That being admitted, I am in need of as much advice on the matter as I can possibly get. When reading P.D. James on Detective Fiction, I copied out several pages of quotes which are standing me in good stead when I get a bit muddled. My courage is particularly bolstered by such passages as:

"Miss Sayers did nothing in her life by halves. Having decided to earn some much-needed money by writing detective fiction, she applied her mind to the history, technique and possibilities of the genre. Being highly intelligent, opinionated, and combative, she had no hesitation in giving other people the advantage of her views."

I also find her commentary on the "golden era of detective fiction" quite interesting:

"These novels are, of course, paradoxical. They deal with violent death and violent emotions, but they are novels of escape. We are required to feel no real pity for the victim, no empathy for the murderer, no sympathy for the falsely accused. For whomever the bell tolls, it doesn't toll for us. Whatever our secret terrors, we are not the body on the library floor. And in the end, by the grace of Poirot's little grey cells, all will be well--except of course with the murderer, but he deserves all that's coming to him. All the mysteries will be explained, all the problems solved, and peace and order will return to that mythical village which, despite its above-average homicide rate, never really loses its tranquility."

In writing Anon, Sir, Anon, I am combining a bit of this golden-era flavor with reality. By that, I mean that while it is a "cozy" mystery, I feel that you will get to understand a bit of the gravity of the situation that more modern mysteries provide. All is not well and at the end of the book all cannot be well because something has changed and someone has died. Another quote from P.D. James gives you a bit of what I mean:

"I find it interesting that the detective hero, originated by Conan Doyle, has survived and is still at the heart of the story, like a secular priest, expert in the extraction of confession, whose final revelation of truth confers a vicarious absolution on all but the guilty."

Being that Farnham is a Christian, there is a deeper aspect of the plot. Christianity holds life more precious than anyone else and cutting it short is more vile a thing even than the world admits...an interesting angle to play and I'm enjoying the challenge.Well now. Off I go back to my writing; I'll leave you to ponder the above quotes and see what you think of them.

"I'm quite the hound, you know. I like a bit of the hue-and-cry."

Friendships are Built on Blood {Snippets of Story}

The very first thing I want to say is that I have posted my review for Amber Stokes's brand new novel, Forget Me Not. You can read my thoughts on it here! Short version: you will enjoy it. :)

 It is time for Snippets of Story at Whisperings of the Pen. I don't think this needs explaining, but if it does, the rules can be found here. This past week was a bit bummy writing-wise a few of the days, but I do have a goodly chunk to show from January's capture so here's to lots more in February-to-come!

Vivi stopped and looked at her uncle. He gave a slight shake of his head as if to discourage further explanation of that fact. It was meant to be a secret gesture but Vivi saw  the Inspector looking at him.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

She let him boil in that kettle a moment, then graced him with a sweet smile.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

“I can’t remember what she said precisely and if a thing is not accurately presented there is ample room for misconstruction,” Vivi said.

The chief steepled his fingers, putting the points of his index finger against his nose, and stared at her over them. “And if there is nothing presented all all the answer will certainly be misconstrued. Be a sensible little woman.”

-Anon, Sir, Anon

The trio exited the police station and crammed into Dr. Breen’s car. Vivi felt weak and exhausted by the ordeal at the station; no matter how innocent she knew she was, there was always a moment where she feared something would go awry and she would be pegged a murderess. Something to do with her mother’s lessons that the guest was always right.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

The engine coughed to silence and Breen climbed out of the driver’s seat and opened  Vivi’s door with a flourish. “Welcome to the Quagmire, my dear Miss Langley.”

-Anon, Sir, Anon

The bad weather of the evening had cleared off with the springing-up of a light breeze, and cloud-tatters flitted over a half moon; the temperature was perfect for an almost-solitary walk: cold without being vampire-like. He felt the weight of Vivi’s arm in his and was glad he was there to protect her if--God forbid--the killer was still in Whistlecreig.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

“I’m your nursemaid. Shouldn’t I be monitoring your food intake?”

“Don’t be a spoil sport. I’m hungry for once in my bang life; let my ulcers scream. We shall solve this mystery and we shall solve it in a week--no more. I shall bet Breen on that.”

-Anon, Sir, Anon

But in her stomach a sparrow-fear darted up and beat its wings.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

She rounded a sudden twist and found herself face to face with a red fox. It grinned at her, brushing its tale across the grass. She took a step forward and it tensed, drawing backward but still grinning; the creature considered her a moment longer before trotting off in an auburn snoot, more cat than dog. She watched a rogue shaft of sunlight jink on the fox’s pelt before it vanished into the rowans like an amber spectre. Vivi was not frightened by the odd meeting with the creature but it occurred to her then that not everything in the Rowan Walk must needs be friendly; there were predators among the woodland folk even as there were among humans.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

“Do you keep horses?” Vivi asked as she and Farnham made their way down the mossy steps of the great house and took to the gravel drive.

Farnham stuffed his hands in his cardigan. “Do I look like I keep horses?”

-Anon, Sir, Anon

“What kind a’ ‘uman could craunch a gel’s head like that and not be a bloke? Barnaby, says I, Barnaby, he’s a nurker he is. Allus hotching about while waitin’ for ‘is train. Allus glining. He’s a rum one, that’un.”

-Anon, Sir, Anon

It was a pretty spot, Vivi decided. She liked it. The mill felt like a mother, gathering the rampant stream to her breast and hushing it with a chuckling murmur till it fell asleep in the cradle-pond.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

She watched Farnham and his hound lounge up the bank with growing apprehension. He wasn’t hurrying. He was barely smiling. But then, Farnham never did go in much for the whole amiable-expression thing.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

“That is positively morbid.”

“It’s a testament to our friendship.”

“Friendships aren’t built on blood!” Vivi protested.

Farnham braked suddenly and turned on her with a certain fierceness both unnerving and quaint. “Aren’t they? Surely you’ve never stuck that aristocratic nose in Henry V or the Bible or any history of any war in the last two millennia if you think friendships can’t be built on blood.”

-Anon, Sir, Anon