SURREALITY

Yes, I made up a word. The past two years have been surreal and reality, hence Surreality. You’re welcome. Like most people, my world has been rocked and rolled over the past two years. I work in health care, so I continued to work through the pandemic, although my patient load and hours got cut back for a while. Things are roughly back to normal on the work front, so that’s good news. The home front is decidedly not normal. Over the years, we have enjoyed a relatively healthy existence. 2021 decided that needed to change, so in January, the entire household came down with Covid-19. I don’t think I’ve ever been that sick for that long, but we recovered without any major issues. During my downtime, I decided it was time to find a primary physician and made an appointment with my husband’s doctor. As a healthcare provider I have certain expectations of doctors, and this one didn’t make the cut. I take issue with any doctor who doesn’t ask basic questions regarding my health history, doesn’t address current conditions and concerns, and repeats no less than four times that I need to eat more plant-based foods (without asking about my diet). At least, she did request lab work, a mammogram, and a colon screen (done, done, and done). Now, to find another doctor. All was going along relatively smoothly until I woke up at 3am over Labor Day weekend in atrial fibrillation. Most might say they had heart palpitations. I’d call it an asynchronized kettle drum thumping on the wrong side of my chest. After an early morning trek to the emergency room (via Whataburger because mi esposo needed breakfast), voila–I now have history of a-fib. Fun. Fortunately, my little, ole heart decided to go back to a normal rhythm without further drama, and I went home with a very nice, shiny cardiologist to call my own. Yippee. That was nothing. The next week, mi esposo went in for a cardiac catheterization–nothing was wrong, but his cardiologist wanted to take a look around his heart’s arteries. Mi esposo came away with two stents and a buttload of blood thinners. Nothing wrong, my fanny! You’d think that would be enough, right? Nope. In October, mi esposo, the Mimi, and I took a tiny trip to Georgia to meet our new grandbaby girl (I shall call her Girlie). She’s gorgeous, adorable, magnificent, smart, opinionated, and possesses a set of lungs that lets you know she means Business (That’s my girl!). Anyway, on our last day visiting, mi esposo decided to help Myrtle the Elder put some things away in the attic. He took an ill-advised shortcut out of the attic and landed on the concrete garage floor. Did you know that bones don’t like concrete all that much? Nor do they appreciate 8-foot drops onto said concrete. We also discovered that morphine is not his friend, and neither is the LSD-type concoction that he received in the emergency room to control the pain. So, while mi esposo experienced life in a Georgia hospital and rehab, I had to come home and figure out how I was going to get him back to Texas. After three weeks, Myrtle the Younger and I trekked back to Georgia, sprung mi esposo from jail–I mean rehab, and hauled him home in a four-day, whirlwind trip that I’m still recovering from four months later. He’s healing well but has more therapy and surgery in his future. And we have a new normal. The weirdness of 2020 and 2021 has given me a lot of time and fodder for my writing. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve entered a few more short story/flash fiction contests and done pretty darn well if you’re interested (well, you must be if you’re reading this). A friend is producing an anthology this spring, and I’ve submitted a story for it. Stay tuned for more details. I have finished the first two books of my newest series, The Tess Corona Chronicles. (No, I did not name her after the virus! The name was given two years before the pandemic, and no, I am not changing it. So, there.) I’m querying agents and publishers for the first novel–And They Danced, and I’m working with my critique group on the second–And They Played. Writing of the third book, And They Hid, has commenced. If that isn’t enough, I still have to write the last book of the Spiritual Gifts trilogy, books 3 and 4 of the Daemon series, a non-fiction work, and at least a dozen or so short stories. Did I mention that I work full-time? And that mi esposo can’t do most of the things I need him to do? There aren’t enough hours in the day. T

Old and New

 Most of my social media feeds show people reflecting on 2020 and planning for 2021. I am not a planner–not even what’s for dinner–but I do make an effort to at least sketch out a calendar with important dates. This year I tried to at least look at what I accomplished in 2020. In a year of global ups and downs, I have to admit my year was mostly up.

Ups: I opened the year getting 3rd place in a local short story contest (Transplant), then got 1st place in August (All Saints). I published my 4th book (Valkyrie) in May, finished my 1st manuscript for a new series-The Cerveza Chronicles, and made headway on the 2nd novel. I participated in National Write a Novel Month for the 5th time, and PitchWars for the 1st time.

My learning process continued with (in person and online) meetings and classes for Skywarn, TCU Center of Texas Studies, Texas Discovery Gardens, Sisters in Crime (North Dallas, Heart of Texas, Houston, North California, National), Bourchercon-Sacramento, Writer’s Guild of Texas, Dallas Mystery Writers, Dallas Area Writers Group (DAWG), Roanoke Writers Conference, Writer’s Organizations ‘Round Dallas (WORD), and Frisco Area Writers Group (FAWN). Basically, if they let me in, I took notes.

My oldest–Myrtle the Elder–came to visit in January and bought her first home in February. She also got a new puppy–a Boston Terrier name Moose. My other granddogs are doing well. Doc had a bloody ear, but otherwise avoided having his stomach pumped again (win!). I’ve been able to keep in touch with friends through Zoom, Discord, texting, and the occasional porch or driveway visit.

T’s Adventures in Cooking including learning to fill tamales (yum!), making my first chicken and dumplings and beef stew, my first cobbler (blog post-Drunk Peaches), not-my-first-but-it’d-been-awhile Thanksgiving turkey, and the best smoked Christmas ham with a cranberry-dijon glaze (seriously good and ham isn’t my favorite meat).

Downs: In March, my husband and I had to put our 15 year old black lab to sleep (blog post-My Boy). I still miss my boy.

Covid-19 affected everyone I know in one way or another. One family member (a nurse) caught it early on but recovered. Friends went into strict quarantine due to health concerns, and most transitioned their work to home. My job (occupational therapist) doesn’t have the luxury of working from home, but we did have to decrease our hours temporarily. Fortunately, my employer did everything they could to keep us working, and I had over 100 hours of vacation time (because I forget to plan time off) accumulated to offset the difference.

Personally, I haven’t allowed the pandemic to limit me. I live my life, wear a mask, and respect others space. It doesn’t work for many, but it works for me.

What does 2021 hold for T?

No clue. I’m attempting to make a few plans. I’m going to take the leap and query agents for The Cerveza Chronicles. Honestly, I’m not sure how patient I will be with that process, but we’ll see. I am a new board member of Writers Guild of Texas (pray for them, they know not what possessed them). Any and all classes, meetings, critiques, contests, etc that I am capable of participating in, shall be participated in. And Myrtle the Younger and I will continue our Adventures in Cooking (she got a tiny waffle maker for Christmas-yummy!) so stay tuned for whatever crazy whim we get a taste for, without setting the kitchen on fire (it’s a skill I haven’t mastered yet. My mother has achieved that greatness at least 3 times that I know of).

Many blessing to all for a HEALTHY and SAFE 2021!

T.

I'm Blue

For the past three years, I have looked forward to an event created by and for writers. Writers in the Field (WITF) is an opportunity for writers to get inside the head of experts in all manner of disciplines without kidnapping, torture, and self-incrimination. Many of these experts are also writers (or are related to writers) so they understand the strange browser histories which put writers on various watch lists.

The first year was at the tail end of a true Texas summer--hotter than your oven on broil. Last year's event is fondly referred to as Writers in the Flood or Writers in the Mud since Mother Nature decided to dump a load on our heads, complete with tornado. But still we slugged our way to the experts as they did for us. A few didn't make it, including the food truck, but those that did were rewarded with fond memories of slogging through the muck, ruining our shoes, and going mudding in our cars (that was fun).

This year, Momma Nature made up for the first two years. For the past two days, the weather gave us lovely fall-like temperatures (which only last about 5 minutes in Texas). The rain came in early, leaving the ground only slightly squishing in certain places. Life is good.

So, off I went (with mi espouso and Myrtle the Younger in tow) with a clean notepad to attend WITF, intent on meeting like-minded people and experts, to discuss methods of murder and mayhem without threat of suspicious eyes and ears wondering just what the hell was going on out there. There sword fights, loin-girding, Renaissance dancing, lock-picking, blade-smithing, weavers, and dyers (to name a few) mix with experts from the FBI, Secret Service, police, and bomb squad to answer ALL our questions and insane ideas for our story lines. They offer suggestions on how to make our life--I mean writing--more interesting and realistic, while suggesting (gently) that perhaps that plot twist might now work the way we think it will (sigh).

So, why am I blue? Well...I dyed.

I know, it's shocking, but after years of vague ideas on how to make a tie-dyed shirt, I participated in several dying sessions and dyed my very own mustard-y yellow-y handkerchief. Over 2 days and under the watchful eye of Willoc the Dyer, six of us helped to dye a length of hand-woven, wool fabric a deep, rich blue-y purple or purple-y blue. I had the task of being under the wet cloth, dipping the cloth in the dye, ensuring it didn't get tangled on the turning dowel, and basically getting dripped on. One day one, my hands were red. Today, I was blue.

Very blue. As in Smurfette blue. And it DOESN'T COME OFF! (Pics on Instagram)

I'm blue.

T.

Something New...Now What?

Hello, all. It's been a while. A year to be exact. Sorry about that. It's hard to relate what I'm doing when I truly don't have a clue.

It's been a productive year, methinks. I finished the sequel to Healer and am in the process of editing and proofing. The book cover is...a work in progress? (She tells me she's working on it. Sigh.) My goal is to publish it soon. That's about as close to a commitment that I can muster.

My work-in-progress list has grown. I still have the two Daemon series additions, as well as the final two of the Spiritual Gifts series to finish, and I've begun a paranormal suspense series that I'm calling The Corona Chronicles. That's the one I mentioned in my last post. It's proceeding differently than my other works, so I can't wait to see how it comes together. I've now started two other pieces: one a non-fiction based on my work and philosophy as an occupational therapist, and the other appears to be a children's story.

The non-fiction is interesting. I do not consider myself an expert on much of anything, but this piece insisted that I was the one to bring it forth. For the moment, it's called Need and addresses basic truths about health. Writing non-fiction is different than writing a novel, so I'm on an interesting learning curve.

As far as learning curves go, the children's story is another level of What am I doing? The story was easy (and based on a true story), and I actually have a vision of the final product (for once), but I am clueless on how to proceed with editing because I need to gear the story toward an age or reading level. I attended a panel discussion of children's writers a few years ago, but my take-away isn't helping me now.

My primary thought during and after the panel was the focus on who would be reading the children's book. The writers assumed the child would be doing the reading. At the time, I had spent time with my brother as he sought books HE wanted to read to his daughter. Yes, he wanted her to enjoy the book, but he also wanted to have fun as well. He looked at books from the stance of What silly voices can I make up while I'm reading this to her? and How many times will I read this book before I want to throw up?

Mi espouso and I have two daughters (both grown now--not sure how they survived us). One of the stories their daddy read to them was Bark, George by Jules Feiffer. Mi espouso aspires to do voice-over acting and especially loved the many animal noises he could incorporate into reading this book. The girls thought he was hilarious and helped him out with each oink, moo, and bark. If that's not father-daughter bonding, I don't know what is. That's what my brother sought, but had difficulty finding.

Hmmm...that was a soap box, wasn't it. Okay, then. I'm done. Back to writing adultish stuff and figuring out what to do with this kiddie thing. (Suggestions welcome.)

T.

The Writer's Life

I must say that writing is exhausting work. My brain doesn't shut down except when it must. Personality tests say its due to being an INFP. If I had ever undergone psychological testing, I might have been diagnosed with some version of attention deficit disorder. The bottom line is, I can carry on a conversation, drive, eat, and watch TV while brainstorming book scenes without breaking a sweat.

This might explain why I'm trying to write 5 books at the same time. Insane, I know, but it's my reality. I have two more books each for the Daemon series and the Spiritual Gifts trilogy, plus the beginnings of another series.

Needless to say, the past few months have seen much time spent researching everything from Viking weaponry, Renaissance country dancing, the Texas Rangers (not the baseball team), and various Texas myths, legends, and murder mysteries. In my zeal for information and ideas, I've visits a few cool places and events, and collected a few souvenirs.

I mentioned previously that I attended a gun and knife expo, searching for information and inspiration on knives. While I didn't find reference material, I discovered a love of custom knives and purchased my first.


Did I need a knife? No, I don't. Do I love my knife? Yes, yes, I do. Ain't it pretty?

In May, mi espouso and I went to Scarborough Faire, one of the biggest Renaissance festivals around. While most women go there to eat turkey legs and get their hair braided, I really wanted to buy a sword, but demonstrated admirable restraint. Instead, I focused on the tour of a dungeon, various forges, maps, and anything that might help my quest.


The woman in the tapestry shop called this guy a library dragon. I called him the Book Wyrm. After she thought about it for half a second, she realized I was right. I'd like to think she will forever refer to this piece correctly.

Yes, I found a few book-related goodies and spent way too much money, but more importantly, I came away with usable ideas for sequel to Healer.

A week later found me in Waco, with mi espouso and the Mimi, headed to the Texas Ranger Museum. I came away with a buzzing head and confirmation that my new series might just work after all. I've collected a few books for research purposes (and curiosity of the absurd).


Don't judge. I'm a writer. (I saw a tshirt today: My Browser History Can Get Me Arrested. So true. Too bad they didn't have my size.)

The past 2 days have been spent at my first DFW Writer's Conference, complete with agents. I haven't tried the agent route, so being in the room while they played the Query Gong Show was an interesting experience. (Panel of agents are read an anonymous query letter. They hit a gong when they've heard enough to reject. Three gongs & you're out. At least, you hear the reasons.)

So for 2 days, I have attended lectures about screenwriting, the hero's journey, editing, marketing, book covers, challenges, writing courtroom drama, and historical research. Each topic could have had another 30 minutes tacked on. To say the speakers were excellent would be an understatement. The keynote speaker was Scott Westerfield, author of The Uglies. His topic was amazing: the evolution of the novel and teens into the current popularity of Young Adult fiction.

While I am still processing all the information and ideas from the event, I did come away with a few souvenirs.


Mi espouso can never have enough tshirts.

I think I'm done for today.
T.

A Curious Mind

Apparently, author-hood means being the proud owner of an insatiable curiosity for the oddities of life. I find I am no exception.

A fellow writer posted this on their page:

While these are not MY searches, I'm now curious enough about Canadian police procedures regarding werewolves to do a little side research. Who knows where that yellow brick road will lead.

However, if one happened to be curious about what my searches consist of, one only has to look at my Pinterest page. In the lovely world of suggestions based on previous searches and pins, Pinterest thinks I'm in desperate need of Wiccan spells, materials, and clothing. Just because I research a lot of mythology,astrology, cemeteries, history, art, weaponry, and medicinal herbs and oils (to name a few) does in NO way mean I want to cast a few spells (although the one for invisibility is intriguing, I've always wanted that to be my superpower).

A certain big name (who shall remain unnamed) bookstore puts suggestions for future purchases on their receipts. Today I left said big name bookstore with reference books about angels, ancient healing practices, and an illustrated history of pistols. My receipt suggested I might have missed out on the excitement of  tarot cards, a book about angel therapy, and oracle cards (I have no idea what oracle cards are, but I will be looking them up as soon as I'm finished here).

Now, if you will excuse me, I must resume my study of demonology.

T.

Just A Quickie

I'm sorry I haven't posted lately. There's probably no other excuse than I just don't have much to report. So here are a couple of interesting tidbits:

My favorite cover artist (aka Myrtle the Younger) has decided not to do the cover art for my fantasy romance, Healer. I'm okay with that. She's busy with school and friends. All is good. A friend's son is an aspiring graphic designer so he has accepted the challenge to help build his portfolio. What he has presented so far looks great and I can't wait to reveal the cover.

While waiting for the cover, I joined Wattpad. If you aren't familiar with that forum, it's a FREE website/app which allows you to read works from authors all over the world. I've read several books on the site, many of which are in dire need of editing, but have enjoyed the stories presented. You can follow authors, comment and vote on chapters you like (votes lead to more readers, awards, etc.). Wattpad has multiple genres to choose from, so you can go wild. If you want to check out my work, it's under taseitz.

Don't worry. I will still publish the normal way when I finish this final edit and get the cover.

That's all for now! Have a great weekend!
T.

Control Freak

I have another confession. This will come as a surprise to many, but I am a control freak.

I know. I know. Most women are. I'm a little different in that I only want to know what's going on so I can go about my merry business with an understanding of the world around me. I don't particularly want to make decisions or tell others what to do (with the exception of mi espouso).

In many ways, this need to know gets me in some deep trouble. Trouble like others-see-me-as-a-leader type trouble. I don't want to lead. I'm a happy camper as a good ole follower. My opinions are simply my opinions and no one should ever trust that I know what I'm doing or where I'm going (I think that was mentioned in detail in my 2nd/3rd blog post, I am Cursed.) All I ask is that you keep me in the loop on all the juicy gossip (whoops! I meant important facts pertaining to my existence.)

So why, one might ask, is this information relevant on a chilly Texas evening? Well...my books are being purchased.

The curious-minded individual might randomly inquire, "T, I thought that was what you wanted. You published your books so people would a) buy them, and b) read them, and c) review them."

Well kind, curious-minded individual, you would be correct. I did, in fact, publish my little book babies for the very reasons listed above; however, (and this is the kicker) I DON'T KNOW WHO THESE PEOPLE ARE! (hyperventilate, BREATHE, gasp, BREATHE)

I know it's insane, but I had an expectation/delusion that someone would buy a book and we would have a lovely discussion about said book over tea and cookies. That is mostly what happened until recently. Someone would make a purchase, tell me when they received and/or read it, and we would discuss it. The conversations usually occurred via text or message rather than high tea, but rest assured a cup of God's nectar was near at hand on my end. Some conversations resulted in lovely 4 and 5 star reviews, some didn't but I knew what each person thought of my work and that was important to me. I grew from each conversation. (I have received one 3 star review. It's not a bad review, but I'm trying to wrap my pea-brain around it. How's that for full disclosure?)

So now, people are buying my work and I'm not getting feedback and I don't know who these people are to ask their opinion. It's driving me nuts! So, please, if you have one of my little book babies in your possession, be kind and let me know what you think. I'll make tea.

T.

June was a busy month and July is shaping up to be the same. Yea! If I'm occupado, I can't get into too much trouble...or can I?

So what has T. been up to, you ask. Wellllll...

In June, I participated in a podcast with a friend. Her website is MidlifeSchmidlife.com and her podcasts focus on people who take a left-turn after the age of 40, aka The Midlife. She is having inspirational conversations with those who have quite their jobs or altered their existence to pursue their dreams to start a business, perform burlesque show or write a book after reaching midlife. I have to say this is a much better plan for a midlife "crisis" than buying a motorcycle or a sports car (Ooh, look! A Ferrari!) and/or trading in your spouse for a younger/newer model. Sooo... in episode #3, I discuss my journey as an author. Check it out.

Also, as previously hinted at, I pulled the trigger on Book Baby #2.

Ta Da!

Keep Your Eyes On Me. This link is for the ebook, but if you're like me and prefer a physical book, it is available in paperback. If you have an opportunity, please leave a review on either Amazon or Goodreads (or both). Reviews are the lifeblood of independent writers and help us reach a larger audience. So please!

If you think I only write my blog when good things happen, you might be somewhat correct. But I'll share something on the less positive side: I've got a doozy of a losing streak going in Words With Friends. I can't get a handful of decent tiles to save my life. So if you want to up your stats, now might be a good time to challenge me to a game.

T.

One Month Down...

It has been one month since I put myself out on the cliff's edge. Publishing my first book has been scary, but satisfying. And strange.

I knew people would want to read my novel. Out of morbid curiosity or whatever the excuse might have been, friends and family are doing just that. I even (kind of) expected that my mother and the Myrtles would read it. Myrtle the Elder reportedly read the prologue on the plane to see The Boyfriend for Boot Camp Graduation. For some reason, she was embarrassed by what she read and wanted an assurance from the author that the rest of the book was all right for her to continue. (Yeah, right!) Myrtle the Younger gave the Elder grief over that little fact. She's a good little sister. (Myrtle the Younger is the child who stole all  of my smut books at the tender age of 12 because she was bored. She be well-ed-yoo-ma-cated.)

I never expected to be responsible for my father-in-law to read his first romance novel. At the ripe, young age of 79, he did just that. Surprisingly, he not only bought and read my book, but bought and read a second one which caught his eye. (We are getting his vision checked, he claims the blurriness might be related to cataracts, but I have my doubts.) Anyway, his expert option was that I did a good job. That means a lot to me.

I did get a 5-star review on Amazon. That was a absolute thrill. And I've heard from a couple who have read, or are in the process of reading, and haven't heard anything negative yet. I need more reviews. Anyone?

So here I sit, one month into this journey, and I struggle to figure out "What's next?"

First and foremost: I'm exploring options for promoting If You Touch My Mind. I am open to suggestions.
Second: I'm continuing to write. I have two novels in various stages of progress. The sequel to IYTMM is called Keep Your Eyes On Me. It is sitting around 54K words with a goal of 80K. The second book is called Healer and is not related to IYTMM. It's sitting about 63K.

Stay tuned!
T.

The Gremlins Are Gone!

As far as I can tell. This being my first attempt at publishing, there are lots of ways for me to screw up. A final check-list might have been helpful, but, alas, no such critter appeared on my computer screen.

I did have to take the publication down for a period of time. I forgotted to insert the ISBN numbers on the copyright page. I'm not sure what the consequences are of not having them, but I done fixed it. At least it's fixed until someone else points out another colossal error or omission. Stay tuned 'cause I can assure you that I have missed something really important.

So, let us try this again, shall we....

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Touch-My-Mind/dp/1515322661/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1439415743&sr=8-1&keywords=t.+a.+seitz

And...I am pleased to announce that gremlins moved out of the Kindle version and the book is now available on ebook. Getting those gremlins out of the house was a true test of my sanity. Ultimately, I ditched the converted file that Kindle uploaded, and do my own upload from my original file. Everything seems hunky-dory now. At least until someone tells me otherwise (see above).

Now it's time to figure out the promotional aspects of this venture. If you have any suggestions, please share.

T.

Drum Roll, Please!

I can officially say "I am published." If you had known me 20-30 years ago, it is the last thing you would have expected to hear from me. But, I have become an author.

For those of you who have been waiting with bated breath:

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Touch-My-Mind/dp/1515322661/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1439248880&sr=8-2&keywords=t+a+seitz

(Hmmm...you might have to cut and paste. There's a link thingy on here...Somewhere...Oh....)

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Touch-My-Mind/dp/1515322661/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1439248880&sr=8-2&keywords=t+a+seitz

That did it! Yea Me!

Moving on. This is a contemporary romance set in Texas with a psychology-fantasy bent that I like. Being a romance novel: body parts are mentioned, scenarios are established. God gave you an imagination, have at it.

Gentlemen: It's a romance. It probably won't kill you, but I understand if you opt to not take the risk.

As mentioned in my previous post, I am still having issues with the ebook version. Some gremlin decided to change the font size during the conversion. I don't know when that will be available, but I will share as soon as the gremlin moves out.

Some important requests: Please read, Please share, Please write a review, Please (gently) critique.

I own every error in that little novel. I have tried to do it justice with the help of many: Daddy Hawk and Gun Diva, FAWN, Mimi, the spouse, the Myrtles, and a host of dear friends (some helped willingly and knowingly, others not so much).

T.

I Am Working On It, I Tell You!

My little book is 9/10 of being a reality. There. I've said it.

What about the other 1/10, you ask? Sigh.

In case you haven't noticed, I am not the most "techie" person around. Sure I can navigate my way around most programs and devices with deceptive ease. I can figure out documentation systems, and basically put my 2c whereever I can plug it in, but when it comes to html, zip, unzip, jpg, tif etc, I am clueless. Actually, it is more accurate to say that I just don't care about that kind of "stuff." It's much like legal jargon. Whatever.

Anyway, my attempts to self-publish have resulted in several headaches of the "techie" sort. After formatting, uploads, corrections, re-uploads, cursing, and proofing (not necessarily in that order), I have the non-virtual version of my little book ready to rumble. The virtual version...well, that's just sitting in it's own special barrel of pickled monkeys.

Someone please 'splain to me how the perfect spacing and font-sizing that appears in the non-virtual version, can get so royally screwed in the virtual version. Hmmm? Anyone? Yes, I am aware that the different screen sizes might make minor adjustments, but to take ONE section (and only ONE section), change the font size (New Times Roman 12 to New Times Roman 20ish) and recenter the text into a non-sensical mess DOES NOT COMPUTE, PEOPLE!

I tried to correct the mess. Following the instructions under the supervision of my techie-ish spouse, the html shows that all is perfection. No problemo. So...I upload again (6 times)...Now the one section font change has expanded to the next paragraph, which was perfect before the corrections.

So...Here I sit, waiting for a response from the help desk...twiddling my thumbs. Slowly going insane.

Stay tuned.

T.

Patient? By What Definition?

Hey! It's been a while. Been busy on all fronts. It's tough keeping seven (yes, seven) jobs in line but it keeps the hubby in chips and salsa with a roof over his head. Anyway, KB has kindly reminded me to blog something, so here it be...

I. Am. Not. A. Patient. Person. Period.

This tiny bit of information may surprise some of you, especially those who are used to seeing me crochet quietly in a corner pew on Sunday morning, but it be the absolute truth. I hate to wait. I hate lines. I hate sitting still. I must be doing something or I will go ABSOLUTELY BONKERS. Hence the crocheting.

Crochet is probably the one thing that keeps me out of prison. With a hook and yarn, I can sit for hours, listening to the TV or a sermon or whatever. I can even allow people to ask me what I'm doing and not go insane. (Can't do that with a book) Crochet clears my head and can follow me where ever I roam: sitting, standing, walking, and driving (Uh-huh. Don't judge, you texting fiends!).

But crocheting cannot help me now. I must play The Waiting Game. Why? you ask (out of fear of an answer).

Because...I am waiting for my proof to arrive. Yes, folks, my little contemporary romance novel, with its pretty little cover designed by Myrtle the Younger, is in the hands of an independent publisher and I anxiously await the arrival of my little proof. I received an email this morning that it is being shipped as we sit. (I chose the cheap delivery, which of course takes longer.)

So here I sit. Blogging. I should be leaving for work. Now.

T.

Time to move forward.

Update on the writing contest: I didn't win.

Am I glad I entered the contest? Yes. Did I get a good critique? I think so. At least my feathers are not too ruffled.

I did get a passing grade (if you will call it that). The lowest scored item related to my synopsis which I must admit I threw together in about ten minutes. I got several top marks in some important areas. Yea me!

Ok, moving on. It's time to get to work. I have some good critiques to think about. I do not agree with everything mentioned. But that's good. The critiques are opinions and I have my own. For the most part, I'm going with my gut.

So be on the lookout for a forthcoming announcement in the hopefully not too distant future.

Now to figure out how to publish this puppy.

Go me!

T.

Confusion Is The Norm, Right?

I attended my first ever writer's critique group last night. It was an interesting evening to say the least. The instructions were to bring a chapter of approximately 2500 words to share and discuss.

There were five others present with material to discuss. One was new, like me, and the others were old hats with either published materials or at least few rejection letters under their belts. Overall, I was impressed by the amount of work they had completed and their feedback.

Now, I must explain a few things before I continue. Firstly, I am an introvert. Meeting new people--not my cup of tea. Meeting new people for the express purpose of criticizing...excuse me...critiquing my work--OMG! Secondly, I am a speed reader. It wasn't something I learned, nor can I really explain how I read, but one thing I do know--reading out loud is akin to torture. I do know I tend to omit or stumble over descriptors and words like 'the', 'to', 'a/an', etc. They are a waste of my time and energy in reading, so when I read out loud, I have to force myself to recognize their existence. (Books with a lot of descriptions get skimmed or put down pretty quickly. Give me action and dialogue! My brain will fill in the rest.)

Back to the group. After I read my prologue, discussion ensued. Major discussion. There were two or three different factions. Now I realize that many will not like my story (genre, concept, style, etc) and I should not take that into consideration or be offended. But on my right was someone telling me my prologue had no hook, that it sounded like a ghost story and mystery rather than a romance, didn't understand who my audience was and she would put the book down. (Not helpful!!) The person on my left said she had no problem with the hook and liked the intro but needed see how the prologue tied in with the rest of the story.

Now I think the person on the left had a reasonable arguement and is often how I approach a novel. How does the opening/prologue tie into the rest of the book? I often don't see the connection until mid book or the end, but that's part of what keeps me going. One of the comments was that the character in the prologue needed to be the main character of the book. I've never heard that before and have read many prologues which did not include the main character. The prologue should tie into the main concept, but not necessarily the main character.

Thoughts?
T.

A HUMONGOUS Leap of Faith

I have a confession to make: I should have myself committed.

No. Scratch that (although my family might think otherwise). Really, I have just made the biggest leap of faith I think I have ever made. And my mother knows nothing about it. (I am in so much trouble.)

It's confession time. I have been writing. (Duh! What do you think this blog is?) No. I mean writing. Like screenplays and novels writing.

Yeah. I've got about 5-6 projects in varying stages of development for about 1 1/2 years of work. (I kinda let my ADD out of its litter box and it made a big ol' mess.)

So...what's the leap of faith? Well...for one thing, just admitting what I'm up to is not second nature to me. Telling family, friends and strangers...that's HUGE. (I don't know why. It just is.) Secondly, and the biggie, I just hit the SUBMIT button on a writing contest. My first novel-child will be given to an anonymous judge for critique (MY BABY!).

Inquiring minds might wonder what the novel-child is about. I'm calling it a psychological romance which loosely includes sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. It is NOT a bodice-ripper/smut book/whatever you call it. Body parts and functions are mentioned, a few descriptives are provided to create the situation, but otherwise I figure (most of) you are adults with an imagination that may need to be exercised (if'n you so choose).

So far I have had three trusted souls read the entire manuscript and the responses have been encouraging. My baby brother was forced (and I do mean forced. Did I not mention this is a romance?) to read said work no less than three times. Aside from the fact that he abhors my main male character's name, Beau (which I offered to change to Horace exclusively for him. He declined.), his initial review included the words "oddly compelling" and something about paybacks for making him shed a tear (which he will deny to his dying breath but I have it in writing).

Anyway...it's out in the open. All I know is that sometime between now and June, I should have a critique that will help me finalize my novel-child for publishing. In the meantime, I must remind myself to not fantasize about winning the contest (but that would be SOOOO COOOOL!!!)

I'll keep you posted.
T.