7 authors, 7 colleagues, 7 freebies, 7 things we love

The 7 authors, in alphabetical order by first name, are: Alison Bruce, Catherine Astolfo, Chris Redding, Kat Flannery, Luke Murphy, Melodie Campbell,  and Susan J. McLeod.

Ali, Cathy, Chris, Kat, Luke, Mel and Sue are all authors at Imajin Books. We are colleagues. At some point or another (e.g. yesterday for Chris), you've met them here on my blog. 7 of us: 6 female and 1 male. Since he has a wife and three daughters, Luke is used to being surrounded by women.

We all happen to have our books on sale right now: the ultimate sale - FREE.  7 freebies.

Since it's Valentine's Day, I thought you might like to read the 7 things we love about being authors.

1. We love our publisher, Imajin Books. Not only is it difficult to acquire a traditional publisher (i.e. one who pays you for your book), but it's also rare for a publisher to take chances on smart, different, rule-changing novels. CEO Cheryl Kaye Tardif is also an author, so she understands the nuances of clever writing, plots that challenge, characters that are unique.

2. We love our readers. They are discerning. They like to be entertained, but they're also looking for great characters whom they can like or dislike, plots that keep them guessing til the end, and settings that transport them.

3. We love our Imajineers. As a group, we are friendly, open, honest, and helpful. We don't compete, we complement. We network for and with one another. We share ideas and skills. We support each other, in good times and in bad.

4. We love marketing together. Selling your product is, for a creative soul, not easy. Banding together to share the work is so much better than going it alone.

5. We love the writing process. Those moments when the characters take over and veer the plot into exciting territory that we didn't know we'd envisioned. Those times when the words absolutely spill onto the page without effort. We soar! It's enough of a thrill to keep us going through the times when we are slogging through every single word.

6. We love our librarians and bookstore owners. They invite us to speak, organize readings, buy our books, and generally introduce us to new readers in the best way of all: face to face.

7. We love our families and friends. They are the foundation that keeps us on our feet. It's not easy loving a writer. Often we disappear for hours at a time. We're in other worlds a lot. We have other people in our thoughts (and they're pretty real to us). Without our families and friends, however, we'd never survive this business of writing, our obsession, our gift, and sometimes, our curse.

The easiest way to find our freebies is to go here and press SHOP NOW:
https://www.facebook.com/7freebooksimajinthat

Yesterday: Chris Redding
Tomorrow: Cathy, Ali and Mel
Monday: Kat and Luke
Tuesday: Sue

Oh Jesse...

...I would cut fresh flowers for you; oh Jesse, I would make the wine cold for you... (unlike Carly Simon, who sang that she would not).

 I have never actually met Jesse Giles Christiansen, but I would certainly put out the welcome mat if he ever came to visit. As an author, his lyrical writing and his fantastical, whimsical imagination are very much admired (especially by me). As a friend, albeit a virtual one, he is unwaveringly supportive and enthusiastic. 

I do love Jesse's books and here's one for the Christmas season. As of this writing, I haven't had the pleasure of reading it yet, but I will soon. 

My advice: go get this novella, see how great the writing is, and then hop on over to his other books. Buy a few of the novellas as unique Christmas gifts!

 Here is the formal introduction to Jesse:

 Jesse Giles Christiansen is an American author who writes compelling literary fiction that weaves the real with the surreal. He attended Florida State University where he received his B.A. in English literature. He is the author of Pelican Bay, an Amazon #1 list bestseller, outselling Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway. He'll be releasing what is expected to be one of the most unique Christmas stories in years, Goth Town, on November 6th, 2014. One of Christiansen's literary goals is to write at least fifty novels, and he always reminds himself of something that Ray Bradbury once said: "You fail only if you stop writing."

You can also visit this author at www.jessegileschristiansen.com.

The Kindle version is only 99¢ http://ow.ly/DRY48

Paperbacks make great gifts! https://www.createspace.com/4898369

Watch the trailer too! http://youtu.be/QVWYlXL5mEA 

PROLOGUE FOR GOTH TOWN,

A CHRISTMAS NOVELLA

JAKE RAYNER is the only one, other than Samantha Bryant, who had the vision.

He’ll never forget the first time it happened. He was out for a walk in the woods by himself, a practice highly discouraged by the Overseers.

He was always surprised at how little everyone questioned the rules of the Overseers. Many of them seemed so ridiculous. Then again, they owed everything to them. There would have been no life here at all, if not for them.

That afternoon the hazy air was happy and it seemed to seep into everything. Jake was reckless to allow it to seep into him. His feet, his legs, his fingers, even his thoughts, were reckless.

I know they’re going to find me. I just know it. Then they’re going to hook me up to the Recalibration Machine again.

But that day he didn’t care about a single thing. He was mad with life. Life was mad in his veins. Life was livid in his veins. 

Everything spoke to him. The birds’ songs were like shrilly operas stuck in fortissimo. The creek sneaking along by his side crackled and popped the way a long-asleep radio wakes up hungry and eager to play. The wind in the pines moaned softly like a lonely lover. 

Then it happened.

He felt dizzy at first, his head so light he thought it might float away. Something surged inside him that could have been swallowed lightning, rising, writhing, and climbing up to his head.

The memory came.

Memories were demons; they were even more forbidden than being all alone; they were not allowed to even start. When they went in for their weekly screening, any evidence of memories prior to the Anti-Emotion Movement was immediately erased. It was for their own good. Really. They had to believe in the Overseers. They gave them everything, and asked for so little in return. The Overseers picked them up after the Great Fog.

He just stood there and could not stop the memory. Oh, it was so warm. That swallowed lightning curled up, balled up in his head and took to nuclear fusion, forming a miniature sun to melt all the work of the entire Overseers’ brilliant technology.

But what an afternoon it was.

The first flash was of shiny boxes wrapped in fancy bows under a tree that someone had stuck in a living room. What a bizarre image. Why would someone put a perfectly good tree in a living room? Perfect madness. Perfect madness, indeed. And the poor, poor tree.

The tree was wrapped with winking lights, and as he stood there, letting this memory take root, he could see the pines around him dressed the same. They were beautiful, and he overflowed with the urge to take all the pines in the forest, shrink them down, and put them into everyone’s homes.

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

He heard footsteps, and the beautiful, horrible, absurd memory vanished. The memory vanished like the scent of a woman riding with you on a train—a woman you know you will never see again.

He waited for the Goth Town Police to arrest him. And he cherished those seconds as the taste of a curious and wild memory remained for a few seconds on his lips. Those few seconds were more blissful than the rambunctious air that crept all through the forest that afternoon and shot rays of perilous hope into everything. In those few seconds, he tried to chase the echo that was home to that taste. That scent of a woman on a train. He tried to return to it with the desperation of a legless man waking from a Boston Marathon dream.

But at least the taste was there when they handcuffed him.

At least the flicker.

A gray haunt … at least …

Consider Yourself Well In! Guest Peter Clenott

"Consider yourself well in, consider yourself part of the family"

I haven't really met Peter in person, but he's one of our Imajin-nation, so he has to be great. Here are some things I have learned about him. He has three wonderful kids (even though they're teens LOL). He writes mainly in the YA genre in their honor.  In August 2013, DEVOLUTION will be published by Imajin Books. He's also one of those people whom I admire for their social services and non-profit work. Sounds like he's politically involved, too, so look out Massachusetts!

Now, to the best part - Peter's new book, Devolution.

DEVOLUTION features sixteen-year-old Chiku Flynn. Chiku was born in the Congo rainforest to two anthropologists studying the native chimpanzees. For the first eleven years of her life, Chiku is more chimp than child. She nests with the chimpanzees, grooms them and has no qualms about sticking a leaf tool in the soil and slurping up the ants and termites she uncovers. When she is eleven, her mother is killed, and Chiku is sent back to the United States to grow into a maladjusted teenager medicated for anxiety, depression, mood disorder, hyperactivity, you name it. When her father disappears, Chiku must return to the Congo to discover her true heroic self. In Swahili, Chiku means ‘chatterbox’ but the chimpanzees of the Maiku National park, with whom she can communicate using sign language, know her simply as Talk Talk

An Excerpt for my followers - FREE!
     Perched on a branch in a tree at the top of Chimp Hill, the highest point on the island, Scallion studied the night sky. In times past, the moon, the stars, all of the bright objects set in the darkness above, would have held no meaning for him or for his fellow chimpanzees. With good reason their curiosity was focused on the earth and upon the rain forest in which they lived, how it fed them and nurtured them. This had been true since the beginning of time, since the first chimpanzee found a home here. Only the arrival of the girl and her parents had changed that, changed everything, in fact.
     Scallion didn’t feel the wind breathing through his brown fur, didn’t feel its soft tickling. Sometimes the moon shone a brilliant red or even purple, colors reflecting off the water of the Mamba River, which flowed around Chimp Hill and created his island home. On those nights the young chimpanzee reflected upon days buried deeply but firmly in his memory when he and the human female played tag and leaped through the trees, wraaing and hooting and pretending they were of the same kind.
     Tonight the mouth-shaped moon seemed to be frowning. The girl had explained to him, using her hands in a language her father was teaching them, that they all lived on a great big ball. Using the thumb and middle finger of her left hand she would pinch her right wrist and explain to them that their world made a circle every day so that light was a part of the morning and darkness an expected feature of night.
     "The moon," she signed, touching her forehead with two fingers in the shape of the crescent, "is a ball of rock that floats in the air so far away birds can never reach it. Chimpanzees can never get there either, but our kind can."

Buy Devolution HERE

It's still only 99¢ for its debut price, so get it on your ereader now and read it to your kids!

Consider Yourself At Home!

Another Guest from my Family of Imajin Books! Chris Redding introduces us to her newest book.

Which Exit Angel

Just released. Get it for the introductory price of 99 cents for a limited time.

Blurb:
She's an angel who hasn't earned her wings. He's a preacher who is questioning his faith. How are they supposed to fend off the coming apocalypse?

Excerpt:
A bell rang, but Detective Angela Sky wasn’t getting her wings.
Not that she wasn’t due, she just hadn’t made the commitment yet. She’d get around to it, right now she had a murder to investigate.
She fished her Smartphone out of her pocket to see who had sent her a text message. That’s what had been ringing, well, dinging because she’d left it on the default sound for incoming messages. Dang technology. Harder to solve than most homicides.
Gabriel again. Sighing, she put the device back in her pocket. He’d have to wait. She pulled her shirt from her sticky back. Dang New Jersey humidity. The dog days of August in New Jersey was not her idea of a good time. She didn’t want murders of angels to take place at all, but she’d enjoy a cooler climate.  Even the sun going down hadn’t taken the heat out of the air.
The body in question had already been removed, but had there been a chalk outline it would have included wings.
Bunny Watts, the deceased, had received her wings more than a hundred years before. She’d been a guardian angel, but no one in Heaven or Earth seemed to know what she was doing down a dark alley on a humid Saturday night in the small Shore town. 
Another person had been there too and that someone had killed Bunny. It was Angela’s job to solve the crime. The way kidnappers crossing state lines were FBI jurisdiction, angels’ deaths were her bailiwick .
The only witness sat in a Sea Witch, New Jersey, police car.
Sea Witch? What the heck kind of name was that for a town?

Buy here: http://amzn.com/B00D1TPXZY
Where to find Chris Redding
http://chrisredddingauthor.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/chrisreddingauthor
www.twitter.com/chrisredding
Enjoy and thanks to Catherine for having me today.
You're most welcome, Chris!

One of the Family: Guest Kat Flannery

 

My Guest today is one of my Imajineers: our family of authors published by Imajin Books. Kat Flannery talks to us about how she writes her incredibly realistic characters.


When I’m writing I often visualize the characters to look like an actor or actress.

With my last book CHASING CLOVERS, I was asked all the time what actors I thought should play my characters and of course I had the answers right away, Ilsa Fisher and Dwayne Johnson, yes the rock. 

I’m not one who thinks my books could ever be movies, but hey, you never know. So just for fun and in case Hollywood comes calling I thought I’d help them out with who I think should play my main characters.

 Nora Rushton: I created Nora to be somewhat exotic looking in the fact that she had black hair and blue eyes. She is a healer, or what most call her a witch.

I knew right away that she’d be soft and timid, yet when required she’d have a feisty side too.

Emily Blunt came to mind. She appears to have the same quiet, stoic mannerisms I created in Nora, but the fire needed to play her too.

Otakatay was bit harder for me to pin down.
He is tough as nails, gritty, lethal and will kill you if he needs to.


He is half Lakota and half white with a dark look to him.
 
All the regular actors don’t come to mind when I think of him, until it hit me when I was writing this post, Jason Momoa. Yes, that was it. Dark, feral, beastly look, with a yummy appeal to him as well.

Excerpt from Lakota Honor: PROLOGUE

Colorado Mountains, 1880

     The blade slicing his throat made no sound, but the dead body hitting the ground did. With no time to stop, he hurried through the dark tunnel until he reached the ladder leading out of the shaft.
 He’d been two hundred feet below ground for ten days, with no food and little water. Weak and woozy, he stared up the ladder. He’d have to climb it and it wasn’t going to be easy. He wiped the bloody blade on his torn pants and placed it between his teeth. Scraped knuckles and unwashed hands gripped the wooden rung.
     The earth swayed. He closed his eyes and forced the spinning in his head to cease. One thin bronzed leg lifted and came down wobbly. He waited until his leg stopped shaking before he climbed another rung. Each step caused pain, but was paired with determination. He made it to the top faster than he’d thought he would. The sky was black and the air was cool, but fresh. Thank goodness it was fresh.
      He took two long breaths before he emerged from the hole. The smell from below ground still lingered in his nostrils; unwashed bodies, feces and mangy rats. His stomach pitched. He tugged at the rope around his hands. There had been no time to chew the thick bands around his wrists when he’d planned his escape. It was better to run than crawl, and he chewed through the strips that bound his feet instead. There would be time to free his wrists later.
     He pressed his body against the mountain and inched toward the shack. He frowned. A guard stood at the entrance to where they were. The blade from the knife pinched his lip, cutting the thin skin and he tasted blood. He needed to get in there. He needed to say goodbye. He needed to make a promise.
     The tower bell rang mercilessly. There was no time left. He pushed away from the rocky wall, dropped the knife from his mouth into his bound hands, aimed and threw it. The dagger dug into the man’s chest. He ran over, pulled the blade from the guard and quickly slid it across his throat. The guard bled out in seconds.
     He tapped the barred window on the north side of the dilapidated shack. The time seemed to stretch. He glanced at the large house not fifty yards from where he stood. He would come back, and he would kill the bastard inside.
     He tapped again, harder this time, and heard the weak steps of those like him shuffling from inside. The window slid open, and a small hand slipped out.
     “Toksha ake—I shall see you again,” he whispered in Lakota.
     The hand squeezed his once, twice and on the third time held tight before it let go and disappeared inside the room.
     A tear slipped from his dark eyes, and his hand, still on the window sill, balled into a fist. He swallowed past the sob and felt the burn in his throat. His chest ached for what he was leaving behind. He would survive, and he would return.
     Men shouted to his right, and he crouched down low. He took one last look around and fled into the cover of the forest.



Click the title and buy Lakota Honor now! On sale for a limited time.


BIO
     Kat Flannery has loved writing ever since she was a girl. She is often seen jotting her ideas down in a little black book. When not writing, or researching, Kat enjoys snuggling on her couch with a hot chocolate and a great book.
     Her first novel, CHASING CLOVERS became an Amazon’s bestseller in Historical and Western romance. This is Kat’s second book, and she is currently hard at work on the third.
     When not focusing on her creative passions, Kat is busy with her three boys and doting husband.

Kat's Website: http://www.katflannery-author.com (or click on the banner above)
Kat's Blog: http://kat-scratch.blogspot.ca

How to Write a Review #2: Star Wars

How to Write A Review Part 2: Star Wars

As a retired teacher, I am biased in my view of ratings (pun intended). I came from the “old school”, literally. I never believed in scoring something unless there was a set of criteria laid out from the beginning. When I gave an assignment, I also gave the evaluation scheme with it. If the student wanted an A, I would describe what s/he had to do or demonstrate.

The most objective appraisals, of course, involve right or wrong answers such as 2 + 2 = 4. No debate. As for all other evaluations, some subjectivity is involved. However, when the assessor has knowledge of and experience with the task or skill being evaluated, the subjectivity is dependable.  

That brings me to Amazon reviews.

As a reader I am asked by the site to give the book I’ve just read a star rating. This score is extremely important to the author of the novel. Amazon uses the ratings to sell/promote the books. Readers most often only look at novels with a 4-5 star rating. But what are the criteria? What does the rating mean?

She loves me, she loves me not.

Well, there are no criteria. Unless you are a professional reviewer  and have studied the various genres, the rules a writer is supposed to follow, the techniques or skills to be admired, and so on, you will be completely subjective in your evaluation. You’ll have no scoring template to go by.

In fact, Amazon assumes that this is the case. Clearly the scoring guideline wants you to be totally subjective. Five stars means “I love it”. How much more biased can you be?? 4 stars = “I like it”. 3 stars = “It’s okay”. 2 stars = “I don’t like it”. 1 star = “I hate it”. You HATE a book? Oh my.

When I look at the ratings on my own books, I often cringe. The Bridgeman has a 4 star rating. I would expect that its score would be somewhat lower because the subject matter is dark. Despite the hopeful ending filled with love and community, it nevertheless describes the underbelly of society. Victim, on the other hand, is a pretty tame read. There’s lots of native philosophy, hope, and love. It has a four and a half star rating. Legacy and Seventh Fire both have 5 stars. 

 I have to admit, however, that the number of reviews is low. (Want to do a review for me??) See all the books here: My website or on Amazon .

My author rank today is 140,000 out of several million. Could be better, but still an achievement.

However – all of this ranking and promoting and highlighting and selling is partly the result of the number of stars a novel has. And the number of stars is so subjective that I don’t see how my books can possibly be compared to anyone else’s. What my readers love or hate may be polar opposite to what you love or hate. In fact, I often look at a one-star rating and wonder what planet that reader must be on in order to    despise a particular work that I loved. But that's all my own bias!

In addition, while I'm ranting, apparently some authors go into a competitors' review profile and put a one-star rating there on purpose. Huh? I sincerely hope this is some kind of urban myth, but maybe not.

So – what to do? One of my colleagues refuses to give stars at all. That might be a good strategy, except for the fact that Amazon bases its promotions and highlights on stars. My policy is that I never post a review that’s only 1 or 2-star worthy. In other words, I didn’t like the book at all. Maybe that skews my ratings, but so what? Nobody is going to look around for those lower ratings anyway. They’re going to go for the 4 & 5 star books. If there are one or two stars scattered among the other 5-star scores, the lower scores are going to be dismissed.

I will write a 3-star review if the reasons I didn’t like it are technical. Such as, the editing could be improved, but the plot and character descriptions, etc., are essentially good.

The only way to really get the low-down on the book is to read the review. Ignore or take the star rating lightly. (And I did have that previous rant on “how to write a review”, so go read that, too.) To me, it goes hand-in-hand with not bothering to post a 1 or 2 star reaction. 

Unless Amazon creates objective criteria for loving or hating a book, perhaps based on expert reviewers’ point systems, I am keeping with my policy. What about you?

Book Hugger?

 

When you see your beloved writers’ books on a shelf, how does it make you feel? I must admit that most of my favorite novelists are mystery authors, but I don’t think it matters what genre you like best. It’s all in the presentation, as they say.

I admit to being a book hugger. I still like the smell of the new paper, the feel of the cover (especially delicious if it’s raised print, oh my), and the sight of the words, colors, or designs that fill the package.

I do like my Kindle, don’t get me wrong. Ordering an ebook while I’m lying in bed with time to read is still a delight. My bookshelves are crowded and novels are falling off the edge, so refraining from adding one more is not a big deal.

But oh how I love to hug that book! Instead of the onus being on sight, all five senses are engaged. I flip through the pages, take a sniff, feel the silky sheets, study the cover, read the flap (or its equivalent) over and over again.

Thus if you are book hugger like me (not to mention that I am a paperback writer too): Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book? It took me years to write, will you take a look? (stolen of course from The Beatles)

From November 1 to December 16, just in time for buying Christmas presents, my publisher is offering our books for $1 off the regular (already inexpensive) price. I promise my books are worthy of all your senses, from the fabulous covers to the delicious words.

You can find all the books at www.imajinbooks.com/sale

OR you can go to mine directly here:

Coupon code HWVDU6SL at

  THE BRIDGEMAN

Coupon code HWVDU6SL at VICTIM

Coupon code HWVDU6SL at LEGACY

 Coupon code HWVDU6SL at        SEVENTH FIRE