Stroke! Stroke!

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Last night, I was asking a buyer of my first book if he wanted a copy of my second.  He asked for a description of it and after I told him he told me he’d take one.  His wife, sitting beside him, apparently caught that and turned to ask him what he was getting.  He told her I’d published a second book and she immediately said,  “Oh, yes, yes, yes!”  She’d read the first and didn’t even care what the second was about, she just wanted to read it.  Talk about stroking my ego.  I’ve had several others say the same thing.  They don’t care what it’s about, they just want to read it.  I’m especially glad because the stories fighting their way out of my head are all different.  I want people to look at my name on a book and just say, “Doesn’t matter what it’s about, it will be good, because I know she tells a good story.”

Now if I can just get some of them to write a review online somewhere, so others who haven’t read my first book will see it…or just tell their friends.  Word of mouth is wonderful, and often yields more results, because the emotion of the reader comes across.  One of my favorite all time series was brought to my attention by way of a casual conversation in the hall at work when a coworker mentioned her mother’s favorite author.  I read one book and bought all the rest as fast as possible.  (Free plug: C. L. Bevill, the Bubba series – humorous murder mysteries.)

I can bore people for hours about my favorite books, and do.  (My sisters keep threatening me about spoiler alerts.) I can at least natter on about them on Goodreads and Amazon.  Hopefully someday I can be compared to the likes of my favorite authors like Nora Roberts, J.K. Rowling, Stephanie Laurens, Linda Howard, Max Brand, and I won’t even start with my favorite science fiction writers because I’d run on forever and ever.  I don’t have a particular favorite Christian author.  I don’t actually read a lot of Christian fiction; I’m too busy writing it.  Right now I’m collecting various books of Christian fiction by various authors to see if any particular one strikes my fancy.

I don’t mind stroking other authors’ egos.  I go to science fiction conventions whenever I get a chance and if I run across one whose work I read a lot of, I’ll let them know (if I can get close to them…).  If I ever get to go to other conventions, I’ll tell those authors too.  They deserve lots of kudos for bringing so much pleasure into my life.  My childhood had a lot of hard times in it, and (though it may shock some who know me now) I was a very introverted child who was terrified of being noticed.  Books kept me sane, kept me hopeful, kept me optimistic, and let me exercise my brain.  When I spent decades in a dry, technical world of numbers and regulations and angry people on the phone, my breaks spent with my books got me through.  One book even saved my life.  I had stepped on a nail and got a blood infection, and had no idea because it stopped hurting.  Then I recognized the symptoms of blood poisoning I had read in a story and got to a doctor, who said if it had gone one more day, it might have been too late.

If some writer got you through tough patches, brightened your worldview, inspired you, and/or exercised your imagination, thank them however you can.  They deserve it, and it might inspire them to keep writing and brightening the world in general.

Trials, Travails, and Those Who Help Us Triumph

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Posting stuff on the Internet is always fun.  My sister was going crazy trying to change her Facebook profile photo on her smartphone, and I was trying to help her by looking mine up on my computer and changing it.  She finally discovered she was just working with a slow change, and because she tried several times, her photo was updated the same amount of times.  I was trying to start a new page on this site, and post an item on it, and boy, was it fun.  Hope it has finally settled the way I want.

I am now working on book 3, “Give Me A.I.D.! (Angelic Intervention Department).  Some people think of angels as sweet, warm, huggable beings who brighten the lives of everybody they come across.  No, not me.  Even as a child, I found the angel with the flaming sword at the gates of Eden, Jacob’s wrestling opponent, and various others of their aggressive type more fascinating, and God has given me several stories about several like them that I am dying to get written.  Fighting the good fight against evil is one of my special interests, and more will be coming down the line about that.

Do I believe in angels myself?  I not only believe, I’ve met my guardian angel several times.  He always has the same physical type, although not the same body, and always shows up exactly when I need him the most, when no human is around to help.  Once when I was broken down in the middle of nowhere, he got my vehicle running and me back to town before vanishing.  Another time he got me out of my car after it was in a head on wreck, the door was jammed and me choking on fumes inside.  He pulled me out, leaned me against my car, and vanished before I finished blinking smoke out of my eyes.  Another time a friend of mine was present, but neither of us could change a damaged tire and dark was coming on with miles to the next house and it was long before cell phones.  He showed up as a little white haired gnome of a man half both our sizes who removed the damaged tire without even tugging and replaced it without pause.

Another time he took the form of a man I actually knew already, but I could tell he was not the same man.  He dealt with a little boy who had cold evil showing in his eyes as he tried to kill another smaller child.  After his private interview with him, the little boy seemed like a normal child again, and the elderly man went back to the gruff old man I was used to.  Don’t think that was an angel?  You weren’t there.  It was like some people who can tell identical twins apart.  They may look identical, but some people have no trouble knowing which is which.

I have written about angels in my first two books, but these will be different, not least of which is because the stories are all set in the present day.  Angels are found in grimy city streets, suburban parks, a neighborhood bar and grill, and a small rural town.   But they all work for the same boss, in the Angelic Intervention Department.  Desperate for help no human can give?  Call for A.I.D.!

Shameless Plug Time!

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I am now taking orders for personal sales of my second book “Standing Next To A Miracle”.  If you want to buy it from me, it is $5.00 plus whatever it costs to mail it from my zip code to yours whether first class, library rate, or whatever else you like.  The same book on Amazon is $8.00 plus shipping and handling (unless of course you have Amazon Prime).  The ebook version on Amazon is $1.99.  Remember, if you don’t have a Kindle e-reader, Amazon has a free app that allows you to buy the book and download it to your computer, pad, or smartphone.

I also still have copies available of my first book, “Once Upon A Christmastime”, for $3.50 plus postage.  The ebook version on Amazon is $.99 and the paperback is $5.50 plus shipping and handling.

I do hope you not only enjoy the books but feel moved to leave a nice review and tell everybody you know they should take a look.

Ghostwriter for God

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Someone asked me where I got my inspiration for some of my writing.  Sometimes it makes even me screw up my face and wonder.  One particular instance, however, was very clear and still makes me smile, although not in public, because people look at me funny.  My first book, “Once Upon A Christmastime”, began in the Walmart’s hardware department several years ago.  I am the director of Sunday School in my small church and give Christmas presents to the teachers every year.  I always give the same thing to everybody, which isn’t always the easiest thing in the world.  I was wandering around the store picking up necessities for the house while pondering gifts in my head.  As I often do, I appealed to the source of all wisdom.  “Give me a hint, God!” I begged.  I’m not fond of shopping at any time, and I preferred to get everything in one trip.

Much to my surprise, the answer was clear, immediate, and very detailed.  “Get one of those nightlights for each of them.”   I was looking directly at some very plain, ordinary nightlights to stick in an outlet and keep you from stubbing your toes during midnight bathroom breaks.  “How is that a gift?” I wondered.  As He usually does, He said, “Do now, question later!” So I did, and continued through the store.  Candy canes, Christmas star cookie cutters, some actual frankincense and myrrh incense, gold chains, and finally, in the arts and crafts department, I was directed to get some white feathers.  I was floored by now.  The gold chains I could understand; the teachers were all very classy ladies who could probably use a gold necklace.  The frankincense and myrrh I got .  The candy canes and Christmas star cookie cutters even made sense.   But fake feathers and nightlights?

I got a gift bag for each teacher and divvied up the selections, then sat back and said, “Okay, how do I explain this collection?”  He said, “Start typing!” and began to dictate.  I was intrigued as the story unfolded.  Usually I make a story up completely in my head, rumble it around for a while until I think it’s thoroughly digested, and then type it out.  But I didn’t have any idea about this one until I typed each word.  Weird, huh?  What do you call that? Ghostwriting for God, maybe?  I printed out the story, copied it for each teacher, and put a copy in each bag.  Every year since then, He has given me a story.  The gifts are always given on Christmas Eve after our community Christmas program, and sometimes He doesn’t inspire me until that morning, even though I had already gotten the gifts.

When I was going through chemo for breast cancer, I was too sick to go to the Christmas program, and I got no story.  I thought about just sending the gifts by themselves, but something told me to wait.  Sure enough, when I was able to get back to church, the story was suddenly there.  The last story in that book suddenly began during a sermon in October and I found myself (being unable to type, of course, and unable to leave, since I also lead the congregational singing) suddenly whipping out a notepad and writing notes furiously as our pastor continued.  I thought I was supposed to do that story that Christmas, but it would not work.  I could not get it on paper.  It took another six months before I could get it out.  Luckily, He came through with not a story, but a poem, for the gift I gave that year. When I finished that story, my sister nagged me into self publishing it on Amazon, and then the next book, “Standing Next To A Miracle”, began to unfold, not Christmas stories this time, although strangely enough, the first story ends with Christ’s birth and I couldn’t finish it until December.  I already have the gifts and the story for this year.  Someday I may publish another book of Christmas stories…

Whew!

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Finally.  It’s amazing how long it took to finish three short stories.  It drove me nuts along the way.  First I hoped to get them done by Halloween.  Then by Thanksgiving, so I could ordered some printed books and give them as Christmas gifts.  (Some people give homemade fudge, I give homemade stories…) The last story changed completely and I got so caught up in it I was typing furiously through a major thunderstorm because I just had to see how the story came out.  Loading it to Kindle was a breeze.  Loading the print version was a pain in the rear.  Not sure how it went wrong, but it took a lot of work to make it load properly.

I am quite pleased with the results, though.  The stories are so  much more than I envisioned when I started them.  The characters took over and headed off to places I had not imagined.  I’ve found they are much more interesting when they do that, so I’m always happy to see it happen.  But I have to admit, it’s disconcerting to watch it happen as I type.  Where are these words coming from?

Now I just have to decide what to work on next.  I have a huge amount of story ideas jotted down on notepads, in notebooks, and a file container.  Do I stick with the Christian theme (it would be “Give Me A.I.D.! (Angelic Intervention Department)” about angels who are sent to help people in crisis.  They are not the “Fear not, I bring good tidings” angels.  They are more the “Somebody’s going to get it now!” type.  Your child kidnapped by demons for entertainment in a hellish nightclub? Been cursed by a voodoo queen for spite?  Satanic cult decide you’re needed to open the door to Hell? Somebody decide you need to see how your soul really looks?

I also have a strong love for science fiction and fantasy, especially with a twist of humor.  I have a group of stories called “The Bartenders’ Tales” about odd things in odd places.  There’s the interpreter whose last job drove him to retirement, the bikers who met the wrong trucker in a very strange bar, and a werewolf who just wanted a nice date.

There are also the full length novels I want to write.  They are not very humorous, more serious.  Some are series, like “Lunatic Tales” told by aliens who liked the name for themselves since their world had three moons.  Some are stand alone novels, like “Queen’s Curse” about a queen cursed to return over and over and over when her people needed her, because she was not willing when they first cried out for help.  There is “The King’s Niece” who was sent by her village to ask her uncle for a job.  There is “Monsters’ Walk” where four teenagers who consider themselves soulless monsters discover they are the heroes needed by a desperate people, and must accompany the local priestess on her trip to her death.

I have a wide ranging imagination, and keep coming up with story ideas.  Now I just have to get them in writing and ease my crowded mind.

What? Already?

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I seem to be saying that a lot lately.  Time just seems to be flying while I’m not looking.  Today I’ve been scrambling from one chore to the next and I suddenly noticed I was really hungry.  Good grief, I thought, I just finished breakfast.  Then I noticed a clock and realized breakfast had been six hours ago.

Due to back and leg problems I have to do a little on my feet, sit a few minutes, then get up and do a little more.  I thought, well, I’ll make my down time productive and try to set up my blog page on WordPress.  Shouldn’t take long.  Riiiiight.  Oh, the to-do list is running long today.

I was going to try to finish the short story I am presently grinding my way through today, but it’s not been happening.  I was going to have the short story collection this story is in finished and up on Kindle by Halloween, but it didn’t happen.  Now I’m trying to get it done by Thanksgiving.  I have people demanding to know when the next book is coming (don’t all authors wish they could say that…) and I just cringe.

I’m trying.  I’m pretty sure I am.  Maybe I’m taking too long doing other things.  But you have to have a clean house, right?  Uh, at least a neat one?  Maybe one that doesn’t violate health laws? Maybe one that doesn’t make my roommate sister yell at me for the nth time?  Self discipline has always been my greatest lack.  It’s why I’m fat, why I’m diabetic, and why my bedroom is an awful mess.  I spent over thirty years working sixty hours a week sitting at a computer and commuting two hours a day.  I should be able to make myself do a few hours a day of work sitting at a computer at home in my pajamas.  Maybe I should try getting dressed, drive around the block couple of times, and set the phone to ring at odd moments and turn on a recording of my sister yelling, “Aren’t you finished with that yet?” to play randomly.  Maybe I should open the short story and write there instead of here.

Taking Off On Their Own

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Now as I work on my second attempt at publishing, a longer book this time, the very first story I wrote took off in a direction I had not expected and wrote itself.  I even had to go back and change the title.  It’s just like dealing with real people in your life. Just when you think you know them and what makes them tick, you discover hidden depths and begin to understand motivations. To be an author is not to control the universe you think you have created.  Sometimes all you can do is ride the whirlwind and try to take notes as you go.  I promised the readers of my first book I would post the first few pages of the second book so they can anticipate the rest as I finish the book.  I’m going to try really hard to get it up on Amazon in print and ebook by Halloween.