Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Indie Book Day

I'm getting this post out a few days ahead of the game. Today, I'm here to talk about Indie Book Day. This year, it's October 8, so consider yourself warned and ready to grow your TBR.

Truth be told, I started as indie because I wasn't getting any bites from the multitude of agents that I queried. More honestly, I've continued being indie because it is something I truly, truly believe in. Oh sure, there's part of me that would love to receive an offer from a Big 5 Publisher with a huge advance and lots of zeros. But I also know that it's not the reality of the market right now. Here's the reality. Over a year ago, I received an offer. I was waiting to check into my hotel at the RWA conference when I opened the email. My brain could barely process it. I was reading a contract!

But after the conference was over, I read the contract. It was for a book that was already published. They would give it a new cover and re-edit it. I looked at the company's covers. They are made using the same stock photos that I browse through to make my covers. In fact, the publisher had used a photo for a cover from the same shoot with the same models that my cover was made from. And in return, there would be no advance, no sign-on bonus. I would make a 45% royalty on e-book sales. As an indie author, I make 70%. I would be responsible for 100% of my marketing for 24 months. I'm responsible for 100% now. I would have no creative control over the cover, nor would I be able to put the book on sale when I want. It made no sense to take this deal.

And once I sent in the declination letter, I stopped querying, tweeting, and pitching for a publisher. Even though I had been fairly confident in my decision to be indie before, I was absolutely positive now. And I haven't looked back. Being indie has given me the ability to write a serious contemporary romance (Live for This) and follow it up with a light and funny chick lit book (Made for Me). It lets me write a Christmas novella when I feel like it. It lets me set deadlines and adjust them as I need to. It lets me be creative and be true to who I truly am, therefore bringing you the best book I possibly can.

It doesn't mean it's always easy. Watching people launch books that their publisher has secured 50 reviews for is disheartening. Fielding the comments--"Oh, do you actually edit your book?"--gets tiresome. The backhanded compliments about really being published. Let's face it, despite the larger share of the ebook market, indie books and authors remain the red-headed step-children. Well, I've always felt I should be a redhead. For me, even though it may be a more difficult path, it's the right fit.

To help celebrate Indie Book Day, I've put together a Pinterest board. Check it out for lots of great indie books, as well as blog posts by talented indie authors like myself.

And, because I practice what I preach, here are some great indie reads (other than mine, obviously) you should be checking out:

Elements of Chemistry (3 book trilogy) by Penny Reid
Art and Soul by Brittainy Cherry
First and Goal by Laura Chapman
Face Time by S.J. Pajones
Miss Adventure by Geralyn Corcillo
Speak Now by Becky Monson

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Lucky #7

Lucky number seven.

Today's pub day for my seventh full length novel, Made for Me. Seven novels. Three and a half years ago when I released Good Intentions, I had no idea that this would happen. That I'd be here, writing a post for my seventh novel.

This book is fun. That's what it's for--fun. It's light and funny and hopefully it leaves you with a smile on your face. Inspired while watching Project Runway and my friend Wendy's frequent posts about Kate Middleton, we follow Michele as she hits rock bottom and then pulls herself up by entering a TV design show. Yup, fun.

There's a fair amount of sewing detail in this book. That, I owe to my grandmother and my mom, both of whom were avid seamstresses. I learned to sew by watching them.

And since I know you want to know, Made for Me is now available at the following retailers:
Barnes and Noble

Sunday, September 25, 2016

A Weekend of Nothing and Everything

I had the best weekend. It was a weekend of nothing that meant everything. Of course, there was the usual--soccer, religion, laundry, grocery shopping. Sunday dinner at my folks' house. In many ways it was unremarkable. But in this ordinary way, it was totally unremarkable.

Friday night started with a dinner out--just the four of us--to The Cheesecake Factory. The kids had given us gift cards there for our anniversary (thank to a little help from Grandpa). I was too sick at the time of our anniversary to use them, so Friday was perfect. Spared me from cooking; changed up the routine from pizza. It was a pleasant dinner, even with my daughter telling jokes that took about five minutes to deliver. In case you were wondering, a joke with a five minute set-up is not worth the punchline. But it was a pleasant dinner. The only time electronics were used were to Google some facts that had been under discussion. There was a cat drawing contest (Sophia won for anime, I won for realistic), as well as talk about school and life in general.

Saturday saw Sophia playing soccer on a beautiful fall day. The difference in her investment in playing since even last spring is huge, and that is really paying off on the field. Jake found a snail, which is the sort of thing at which he excels--noticing the small details of nature. After the soccer game, I lamented to my husband that since Ohio State had a by-week, there was nothing to look forward to.

Boy was I wrong. You see, TNT was playing a Star Wars marathon. All day, Episodes 1-3, and then The Empire Strikes Back in prime time. Jake reluctantly came into my room when I called him. Until he realized The Phantom Menace was on, and then he was transfixed. He's never seen all of The Empire Strikes Back, so he was excited for that to air. Sophia was off to a birthday party sleep over (or over as I call it because I'm not sure there was any sleep involved), so it was an all Jake evening.

Pat and I took him out to dinner at one of his favorite places, The Melting Pot. Then, we came back and watched The Empire Strikes back. Of course Jake didn't make it through--we dvr'd it in anticipation. We also noted that TNT was starting the whole marathon, episodes 1-6 at 5 am on Sunday, just in case we needed to catch up.

Jake and I have spent most of the weekend binging on the Force. Noticing the discrepancies, finding the links. In between, we got some laundry folded, waste baskets emptied, homework done. There's been conversation during the commercials, as well as during dinner. There's been dancing and singing. My boy, who doesn't like to sing in front of people on pain of death, sang along with me. P.S.--It's subtitled so you too can sing along (I don't need to look at the words. Not sure if I should be proud or ashamed of that fact).

It's been the best weekend with my son.

Because I know it will not always be like this. He's on the cusp of teenage-dom. The mood swings, the sullenness, the surliness--we already see them. There are lots of times when he wants nothing to do with me. And I get it. It's normal. Someday, he won't need me. Won't want me. There are also lots of times where stress and anxiety rule his world, and I don't get to see the laughing, laid back Jake that hung out with me all weekend.

We did take a break so Jake could watch football with his uncle. Even driving over, we couldn't help but marvel at the perfect crystal blue sky and were even lucky enough to see a bald eagle soaring in the sky.

This is a weekend of nothing and everything. And I will never, ever take it for granted.

Thursday, September 8, 2016

Green Thumb

A year ago tonight, we got the call that my uncle (and godfather) lost his battle to esophageal cancer. Prior to his diagnosis 19 months earlier, he'd been the picture of health. One of the best things I can say about him is the absolute passion and zeal with which he lived his much too short life. The list of his accomplishments is extensive, but tonight I want to share a story about this great man.

My uncle loved to garden. Each spring, he planted thousands of seedlings. At one time, he had three gardens going, in addition to tending the church garden. Among many other things, growing food from the earth was certainly a passion that he shared. As such, he was a wealth of knowledge about all things plants and was the guy we asked whenever we had a question.

When Sophia was in pre-school (I think 4 year-old, but it could have even been 3 year-old), they read the story of Johnny Appleseed. Her wheels are always turning, and she started pilfering apple seeds to plant because she wanted an apple tree to grow in our yard. Knowing that planting trees from seeds outside is not always successful, we told her we'd have to ask Uncle Andy the best thing to do. And he, being the generous soul that he was, gave Sophia her own sapling that he cut from one of his apple trees. It was about 18" tall. Sophia and my dad planted it in our backyard, and then we waited. We prepared her that for the tree to really have apples would take years, and that she would probably be in high school before it happened. There are a few crab apple trees in our neighborhood, but not many apple trees for pollination.

The first year, a deer took a several nibbles out of her tree. We weren't sure it would make it.

But it did.

Then last summer, as we knew it would be Uncle Andy's last summer, Sophia discovered three apples growing on her tree. I didn't believe her when she told me. But she was right. Her tree had apples. Almost unbelievable, considering the tree is only about 4 years old.

The last time we went to see Uncle Andy, Sophia picked the apples, and we made applesauce for him. He wasn't able to swallow much, and I don't know that he actually got to eat it. He passed away about a week later.

This year, we had an unusually warm winter that caused the fruit trees to bud early, only to be damaged by a heavy frost. There are no apples this year.

I really felt that the apples last year were a fluke and had something to do with Uncle Andy. The lack of apples this year reinforces it.

To a great man, our own personal Johnny Appleseed... may we all have such a passion in life and for life.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Oh, Ryan Lochte

In 2012, I developed a little crush on swimmer Ryan Lochte. I mean, who wouldn't?

I was even sort of excited when I found out he was going to have his own reality show, What Would Ryan Lochte Do? I never ended up watching the shows because it became apparent in some of Ryan's post-Olympic interviews that while he certainly is pretty, perhaps his personality and brain power is not at the same caliber as his swimming.

I'm not sure how much of it is an act, but he appears rather dim. I don't think it's an act.

I wondered in this Olympics how much media attention he would get, seeing as how it is pretty clear that he's not the best character story. He doesn't interview well, and some of his waters tend to be on the shallow side. It didn't stop me from rooting for him, even with the hair debacle.

Again, it sort of shows the caliber of intellect. He's spent his whole life in the pool and didn't realize that chlorine would change the bleach color...

And then there's that night. The story of the robbery, being held at gun point. The "over exaggerated details." The drunken shenanigans.

I watched the Matt Lauer interview last night.

And I got mad. Now before you go thinking that I'm blinded by the pretty smile (and the much better hair), think about these things.

  1. Ryan and the boys had a night of partying. They were drunk. There was public peeing. A poster was ripped from the wall. Good conduct? No. Were they being drunken idiots? Yes. How is that different from rock stars and movie stars and other athletes? I mean, Lamar Odom OD'd after a WEEK long coke fest in a brothel (complete with hookers), but that's okay. 
  2. Inflating the story was a douche move, no question. He was probably still drunk. Still a douche. We also need to remember we're not dealing with a Mensa scholar here. And still, he (they) didn't do anything Justin Beiber or a hundred other celebrities haven't done.
  3. Ryan and the boys claimed to have been robbed at gun point. Now they are being called liars. The security guards (who were not police officers) pulled their guns, threatening to call the police. These rent-a-cops pulled their guns. No, they were not put to Ryan's head and cocked, but how rational are you when a gun is drawn in your general direction (and you're drunk off your ass)? What would we be saying if a security guard pulled a gun on an intoxicated individual in this country? Hell, police can't even pull their guns anymore.
  4. To "pay for the damages," all four swimmers had to give the security guards (not police, not gas station owner) all the money they had. Huh. That sort of sounds like armed robbery to me. These security guards actually have no legal authority, yet then demanded all their money. If the poster cost $50, that would be a lot. I'd guess Ryan and the boys turned over a lot more than that.
  5. Jimmy Feigan had to pay $11,000 in order to settle this case and get his passport back. How in the hell does reporting a false incident result in $11,000 in restitution? Extortion is more like it.
  6. Matt Lauer is a prick. Ryan Lochte may be a douche (you wonder how much Tums his agent and publicist go through). Matt Lauer did nothing but bully Ryan Lochte in that interview. It's a case of someone who has more power (in this case intellectual power) brow-beating someone who is not equipped to hold his own. 
In summary, Ryan Lochte is not bright. He did a stupid thing (for which he has apologized). However, he and his teammates were actually robbed at gunpoint, and Jimmy Feigan was extorted, and we all seem to be okay with it. Oh, and Matt Lauer is a bully.

Let's look into the shady corruption of the security guards and Brazilian government, and let Ryan Lochte go away for a while. I think that might be best for all of us.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

The Inevitable

For some, it happens during. For others, it occurs just after. For us, it's been 22 years. The passage of time doesn't make it any easier though. It just leads to more "if onlys" and "should haves."

Yesterday, I learned of the passing of a high school classmate. She's the first. And when your class is only about 120 people, everyone knows everyone. The news has been shooting through my former classmates like wildfire.

But time happens and life happens and you drift and go your separate ways. I wasn't particularly close with Katie, although I met her before high school, attending cheerleading camp with her when I was about 12 and 13. I certainly wasn't in her inner circle, nor she in mine. In all honesty, I've only spoken with her twice since we graduated 22 years ago, both times at reunions.

It's still hard, so I know her close circle of high school friends must be hurting.

There has been something positive though. Old friends reaching out. Messages and phone calls exchanged. We finally make time for conversations that we've been putting on the back burner for years.

I know this was inevitable. But it doesn't make it any easier.

Rest in peace, Katie. You will be missed.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

In the blink of an eye...

If you follow my Facebook Author Page, then it will come as no secret that I'm a HUGE fan of the Olympics. Like quasi-addicted.

Okay, maybe not quasi...

In fact, I remember being in high school and spending my entire February break watching the 1994 Lillehammer Olympics. Remember when the Winter Olympics were just 2 years apart that time? Totally aside.

Anyway, they keep referring to the 2012 London Olympics. And I have to shake my head. Didn't that just happen? How could that be four years ago? Four years? Four years ago, my kids were getting ready to enter 3rd grade and Kindergarten. We were in Disney for the first time. I'd yet to publish my first book. So much has happened in the past four years.

I mean, it's been four years since we had this jem...

Aaaah, that Ryan Lochte ...

So then, as I'm watching all sorts of things I never dreamed of (Hello, Rugby!), they mention the next Olympics. In 2020.


I know it shouldn't come as a shock. 2016+4=2020 afterall. But what hit me is that my son graduates from high school in 2022. He only has one more Summer Olympics at home. I know it's a silly way to measure time, but I can't help but think of how fast these last 4 years have gone.

So, I'm going to spend the next few weeks watching the world unite, admiring the skill and talent of the athletes, and holding onto my kids a little tighter. Afterall, in the blink of an eye, they'll be gone.