tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33972108310946160382024-03-05T23:54:40.610-06:00TamboWriteswhere tamz dumpz her brainzTammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.comBlogger270125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-58779040036703878752014-11-06T20:47:00.003-06:002014-11-06T20:47:50.276-06:00I've moved!!!Since SPORE's coming out in June (yay!) and the Dubric series is about to be available as digital audio books, I've opened up a brand new website at <a href="http://www.tamara-jones.net/" target="_blank">www.tamara-jones.net</a> and have <a href="http://www.tamara-jones.net/tamboblog/" target="_blank">moved the blog there, too</a>.<br /><br />
Again, the new address (and link) is<br />
<h3>
<a href="http://www.tamara-jones.net/" target="_blank"> www.tamara-jones.net</a></h3>
<br />Thanks so much!!<br />
<br />
tamTammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-39900716813714768232014-09-24T10:21:00.002-05:002014-09-24T10:21:59.051-05:00Dial that phone!Today is a day of phone calls.<br />
<br />
I have a <a href="http://www.iowa-icon.com/" target="_blank">conference coming up Halloween weekend</a> and today I called Dawn, my hairdresser, to get tint and highlights and a cut so I don't look shaggy and gray while on panels. So that's scheduled. I also need books for the conference, so I called my publisher and bought books, 15 of Ghosts, 3 each of Valley and Threads. They should arrive well before the conference.<br /><br />I also want to take <i><b>SPORE - Summer 2015</b></i> buttons, so I made a few calls to track down a local button-making source. So far, no luck there.<br />
<br />
Our local Lions club is hosting a pancake breakfast in about 3 weeks, and we're in charge of the pancake mix, so I called the smaller grocery store to get that ordered in since I'd much rather buy from them than WalMart. I'll be picking up fifty pounds of dry pancake mix on Friday.<br />
<br />
I contacted my Weight Watchers leader because I can't attend either meeting this week - life logistics simply won't allow it. Then I called my doc to schedule my annual exam.<br /><br />That's everything on my list, but I really feel like I'm missing something. Not sure what, but something. Hopefully I'll remember before it's a crisis. ;)Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-64444727767058385052014-09-01T23:23:00.000-05:002014-09-01T23:23:34.424-05:00The madness beginsWith the contracts signed, I can now officially tell folks that SPORE sold to Samhain Publishing for release next summer.<br /><br />I am utterly DELIGHTED and still swooning after more than a week. Wooohooo!!<br />
<br />
However, with a book scheduled for release next summer, I now have roughly fourteen gazillion things to do ASAP.<br />
<br />
I need a real website, something more google-able than this blog and my Facebook page, but I'm dropping Siler from my name, and there are already folks using TamaraJones dot com and dot net. I need a new site name idea. Not sure if I want to expand upon my actual name or go with something completely different, ala Chuck Wendig's Terribleminds. I'd better decide soon, though. Within the next week or so, at least. Get a domain name, find and pay for a host, get it designed, up, and running. Whee!<br />
<br />
Marketing. Holy crapbuckets, there's a lot to do there. Like conventions/conferences. I've already contacted ICON (it's in Cedar Rapids Halloween weekend) and I'll be on at least two panels there. ComicCon is coming to Des Moines next summer, and I've contacted them, too. Plus there's DemiCon in Des Moines, Archon in St. Louis, Bouchercon, Minicon, ConStellation, and anything else I can scrounge up within reasonable driving distance. I hope Michele is ready to travel!<br />
<br />
Along with cons, there are web ads, tweets, posts, some printed things, contacting book fairs, reviewers, blog tours, writing group visits, setting up interviews, and surely tons of stuff I haven't thought of yet .<br />
<br />
I did a small round of edits this weekend - easy peasy formatting stuff - have filled out forms and questionnaires from the publisher, wrote back cover copy, and I'm staring at June 2015 penciled in on my calendar with a mixture of excitement and exhaustion. It's only nine months away. Nine months! It's gonna fly past.<br /><br />But it's going to be freaking amazing. Everyone will finally get to meet Sean, Mare, Mindy, Todd, and Ghoulie.<br /><br />Go Ghoulie, and GO SPORE!!Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-11117535528786366262014-08-22T23:18:00.003-05:002014-08-22T23:18:39.322-05:00SurgeredThings here are going well - I should have official Not-Dubric book news SOON (it's very exciting!!) - but I've mostly spent these past couple of weeks recuperating from abdominal surgery.<br />
<br />
I don't need to go into all of the gory details, but everything's fine. The surgery was planned and scheduled and all tests came back normal. I'm still a little sore at times, I still get tired easily, but the oddest side effect was how I had so much trouble typing. Typos galore! It's been aggravating, as if I had no idea how to use a keyboard. Just today, I'm back to my usual occasional transposed letters instead of utter gibberish. Yay for that!!<br />
<br />
Since being plagued with insane typos, I've sewn some and actually finished a project - an appliqued pillow - I'd started a while back. It's super cute. It should go out in the mail Monday. Once it's arrived, I'll share a pic.<br />
<br />
My short story ENDORPHINS is in an anthology scheduled to be released sometime in October. Once there's more concrete information available - and ordering options - I'll pass on the essential information. At this point, it's going to be print only. I think.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-68476827633091420572014-07-20T15:57:00.001-05:002014-07-20T18:34:50.099-05:00Public vs PrivateI gave a presentation to the Two Rivers Romance Authors group on Saturday and it went really great. They'd contacted me months ago to set up the visit and told me I could talk about anything I wanted. Any. Thing.<br />
<br />
This obviously opened up a staggering amount of possibilities and I've given talks on lots of writerly subjects, usually to newbies. These women, though, are published or damn near it and I decided they'd probably heard all about creating characters and story structure and pacing and revising and all the nuts-and-bolts writing topics that so often get presented. I didn't want to be repetitive or boring.<br />
<br />
So, what to do?!?<br />
<br />
I pondered a while (months, actually) and a few days ago it hit me. I could talk about the public nature of being a writer, specifically meeting readers, fans, other writers, etc. I thought it would be a different kind of presentation from the standard 'this is how you write shit' kinds of talks, which is good. I prefer to be 'different'. As I pondered some more, the scope of the talk took place in my head and I decided how to go about making it work.<br />
<br />
It did, however take some preparation. At Dunkin' Donuts, to be precise, across the parking lot from where we were meeting.<br />
<br />
I am, by nature, a rather introverted individual and I don't get out much. I'm usually home and, frankly, unless I feel exceptionally comfortable with a person, I rarely speak at all. Everything's internalized. I'd much rather type in a chat window than, well, actually talk. I'm better than I used to be, but it's still an issue for me, especially when I'm in 'pro author mode' which is EXHAUSTING.<br />
<br />
Anyway. Dunkin Donuts.<br />
<br />
I grabbed my fabric tote bag - the one I take to quilt days and classes because it's really big - out of the back of my car and headed into the bathroom. I stripped from my comfy driving clothes (I drove about 2 hours to get there and I'll be damned if I'll wear uncomfy dressy stuff during a long car trip). I completely re-dressed. Twice.<br />
<br />
It'll all make sense soon, I promise.<br />
<br />
Off to the meeting.<br />
<br />
I went in, as me. Well, the 'me' in new situations. Closed up. Hiding. Hair back in a ponytail. My funky reading glasses on. Gray zip-up hoodie, ratty comfy t-shirt, saggy-baggy 'at home' pants. Me. I was greeted, and I was meek. I sat huddled in a corner and quietly fiddled with my note cards and watched the strangers and was polite but mostly silent. Everyone was exceptionally nice and friendly and welcoming, by the way, but a few seemed perplexed as to why this pitiful creature was there to talk to them.<br />
<br />
Meeting stuff happened and it was time to talk. I introduced myself - very softly - and said I slaughter people on paper for money (my standard line of describing my job, ha ha). I showed all three of my actual books, gave a short description of each and how they did sales and award wise, tossing each aside afterward because, as I told them, I'm not here to sell books. I'm here to talk to you about, well, giving talks.<br />
<br />
There was much obvious confusion in the audience.<br />
<br />
I explained some of my issues, upbringing, etc, and how one of the toughest hurdles for me, after turning pro, was public events. How I had to learn to take off my outer shell and get out there.<br />
<br />
I then unzipped my hoodie, peeled it off, and set it aside. My voice got a teensy bit louder and I lifted my eyes a little more.<br />
<br />
They started to pay attention.<br />
<br />
I told them I soon found that wasn't good enough, I had to actually meet and talk to - omg! - strangers and I had to start feeling exposed.<br />
<br />
Off with the t-shirt (I'm sitting through all of this, by the way) to show the blouse underneath and the nice necklace.<br />
<br />
EVERYONE gasped. My voice got a little stronger. Folks laughed when I mentioned I actually own two blouses. Just two.<br />
<br />
I talked about how in book signings I had to cheerfully greet people but it, and panels, meant I could still hide behind the table, behind the table cloth. I talked about how panels were terrifying at first, because I was afraid to speak up, but I soon learned to be assertive (hand motions begin, head up consistently, voice steady) but never aggressive. Everyone wants to talk over you in a panel, most want to scream 'BUY MY BOOK!' (My voice got loud and I brandished a book at them) whenever they get a chance, but humor (they'd already laughed a few times at this point) seems to work better for me than being forceful. But be prepared. Men, especially, will want to talk over you. Don't let them. Be kind, be yourself, but engage the panel and the audience.<br />
<br />
By this time, everyone's nodding and taking notes.<br />
<br />
Then, I sighed, you have readings. A lot of writers sit down behind the safety of the table and read and read and read until the time's done. I did this once. ONCE. Then Gay Haldeman, wife of Joe Haldeman and a really good friend, explained that a good reading is actually performance art. And the first step is to get your ass out of the chair.<br />
<br />
I stand up - everyone's pretty much shocked at this point - and I grab a book, open it, and confidently say, Instead of basically, again, telling everyone to BUY MY BOOK! what you're really doing is engaging the audience, selling yourself and the story at the same time. So you pick a few short bits, a page or so printed, maybe two pages if you're reading off manuscript pages. NO MORE. Never more. And you tell a bit about yourself and why you wrote this. You tell about what it shows or does in the scope of the book - character, plot, whatever. Talk a little, read a little, be open to questions. Always friendly and welcoming, never pushy. It's a conversation. Maybe move away from the podium once in a while. Engage.<br />
<br />
But then there's more than readings. Sometimes you have to present things. Talks like this, classes, that sort of stuff. Sometimes for a few people, sometimes for a lot. Fifty. Five hundred. More. You're on a stage. And there's nowhere to hide.<br />
<br />
Then I unzip my comfy pants and peel them off. Beneath are nice, fitted capris. The gals in the writing group are astounded and laughing and clapping. I get out of my comfy pants, make a joke about how I love them because I don't have to take my shoes off to get out of them.<br />
<br />
Everyone laughs.<br />
<br />
Have you ever seen a TED talk? I ask, walking around. Gesturing. Confident. In control of the room. Do they stand still? Are they stiff? Everyone chimes in 'No!' Of course not. And they're not up there saying 'buy my book,', they're up there saying I know my shit and I'm gonna teach you to know your shit, too. You gotta let your hair down (off with the ponytail and my wacky curly hair does its thing). You have to move around. Back and forth, approaching, welcoming, making eye contact, being open. Because that's what people respond to. Open and friendly. But you have to look professional (I pull my tidy blue sweater out of the bag and put it on) to be taken seriously.<br />
<br />
Everyone laughs again.<br />
<br />
And after I was all done, I did a Q & A thing where I remained (mostly) open and moving and engaging, but I'd make a joke about my shyness every time I noticed my hands in my pockets or my back pressed against the wall. Then I made another joke about forgetting my bling as I put on my swanky watch I pretty much never wear. It finally wound down, everyone clapped and exclaimed it was just about the best author talk EVER.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSWAROQBX54iP_CGPeTQ3a7ElB_QO3GDkJneFRpDQf8PQlBvPvpCd_8sBlfYj512ZF1jKxNgAObVIfad1I_6Tb85CbJh4hOha8qX15qDAr6KMKUUfG6scKAnv63vfjcnPK9-lEiT-mxFN/s1600/meattworivers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSWAROQBX54iP_CGPeTQ3a7ElB_QO3GDkJneFRpDQf8PQlBvPvpCd_8sBlfYj512ZF1jKxNgAObVIfad1I_6Tb85CbJh4hOha8qX15qDAr6KMKUUfG6scKAnv63vfjcnPK9-lEiT-mxFN/s1600/meattworivers.jpg" height="320" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I REALLY hate having my picture taken, <br />
but Terri was nice enough to help me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So I put my pony tail back up (because even when I'm in control, damn it, I still want some of my protective crutches) but before I sat I asked them how many wrote down my name to look up later to purchase my books. Five hands of eight members went up. I smiled and said, Exactly. And I never once asked you to.<br />
<br />
More clapping, and that was basically it.<br />
<br />
Btw, I didn't use the note cards. They were merely a prop at the beginning because when folks are nervous, they fiddle with their notes. I, however, know my shit and don't need notes. :)Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-3852865000087848262014-07-09T16:34:00.002-05:002014-07-09T16:38:23.914-05:00Holy crap buckets, Batman, it's already July!My life is so crazy lately, I feel like a pinball banging around the <i>100 POINTS!</i> bumpers with all of the dings, whistles, and pops that go with it.<br />
<br />
I'm working on three different novels - yes, one's the next Dubric book - and have been writing daily again. ENDORPHINS is going to appear in an anthology titled BLACKBIRDS (pretty sure it comes out later this year but I'm not 100% positive). SID will be the lead fiction short in the opening of a new lit/art/music/etc webhub next year (I'll post more details when I can). I've been contacted about the possibility of doing a screenplay version of SPORE (I'm still considering the idea and need to make time to discuss the particulars with my agent once conference season settles down) even though the book hasn't sold yet. I've ALSO entered discussions with an independent small publisher about various things (yet another matter to discuss w/ my agent when we both have time). That's about it for writing, but holycrapbuckets! Nothing on my radar for years then in a less-than-48 hour span my writing life explodes. After all of that, I'm off to talk to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/270960309700454/" target="_blank">Two Rivers Romance Authors</a> on the 19th. Yay!<br />
<br />
My faithful sewing machine started acting up last October and stopped being able to straight stitch last month. My husband and friends pretty much made me buy a new one, not that I resisted. Much. I am generally, well, cheap. At least if you define 'cheap' as reluctant to spend substantial sums of money. But I narrowed my choices to two different machines and decided to open up the checkbook and buy one. It's... wow. I've been sewing for about twenty five years now, and it's quite a few steps above where I am, skill wise, but I'm learning. It's also whisper quiet (so I can sew while everyone else goes to bed) and happily sews through whatever crazy thing I try to shove through it. I'm a happy quilter.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvTsYQTmtQI54ARTDOBYZ-PYEW0q8zfpXShxnUzBnbc9JKI4mSVgpzuzexfzVQxewECOsHK3DIKgMV6kMuJ0VrJJya93s89r1D6rRAnrBzbgDRBu1T5unZs_-KSidLSG85HsdNjayKyvY/s1600/symphony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvTsYQTmtQI54ARTDOBYZ-PYEW0q8zfpXShxnUzBnbc9JKI4mSVgpzuzexfzVQxewECOsHK3DIKgMV6kMuJ0VrJJya93s89r1D6rRAnrBzbgDRBu1T5unZs_-KSidLSG85HsdNjayKyvY/s1600/symphony.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new machine.<br />
I think it can calculate orbit trajectories in its spare time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So I've been scrambling to get caught up on all of the projects and quilts that have piled up since last fall. There are a LOT. Oy. I'm staggered by the amount of work staring out from my fabric closet. One thing is a dinky dresden quilt I'd started last year, in blues, greens, and yellows.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Q6sZcHHUPV1Ga3LCshToDXWWHTMEThDuSjr9ALTXGTDDPSIopepKq9FwfztRTQT8IKNjQPEDw-HimzxvY82WKopWOVTLDA35fDNDIAwDn6zAMkj2kUty2xNTwohivYDOmTsf3mRVHuJ6/s1600/bludresquarter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Q6sZcHHUPV1Ga3LCshToDXWWHTMEThDuSjr9ALTXGTDDPSIopepKq9FwfztRTQT8IKNjQPEDw-HimzxvY82WKopWOVTLDA35fDNDIAwDn6zAMkj2kUty2xNTwohivYDOmTsf3mRVHuJ6/s1600/bludresquarter.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's a regular U.S. quarter there on the left<br />
to give a sense of size of these teensy things.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There will be 320 itsy, bitsy wedges. I have them about half sewn and pressed, just not put together in arcs and circles yet, and still have half yet to sew and press so they're pointy. Been burning my fingers a lot, but it's MARVELOUS to sew again!<br />
<br />
Then there are the medical issues. Nothing's exceptionally serious, but I will be having two separate elective surgeries in the near future. One to remove a troublesome cyst, the other to clear a path through a blockage in my sinuses. Whee! Doctor visits galore! Btw, getting a CT scan of my head and seeing all the internal bits was oh so cool! Plus I'm babysitting my supremely awesome 2-1/2 year old granddaughter most days while our daughter works, and trying to diet and exercise (I am failing so terribly at that!), and generally run, manage, and clean the house (insert more laughter here) and other life stuff, including our local community's festival the weekend before last (I made popcorn for two days straight) and my 50th birthday party the weekend before that, plus off to Des Moines for 4th of July last weekend, then there's the upcoming fun-run and fireman's ball (guess who's selling raffle tickets and t-shirts again this year?) and, well, LIFE.<br />
<br />
There's nothing bad, just lots of it. :) Have a great week, everyone!Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-13684801482611556322014-06-04T19:35:00.003-05:002014-06-04T20:26:38.168-05:00World Blog Tour<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'd like to thank A.R. Miller for inviting me to participate. If you haven't read Amy's post, you can <a href="http://feycreations.com/world-blog-tour/" target="_blank">find it here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">---</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What am I working on?<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm in the midst of three totally
unconnected novels. SLIPPAGE is a speculative fiction thriller about two
special kids on the run from forces trying to kill them. LUCY'S LUCK, likely
women's fiction, is about Lucy breaking free of her habits and making her own
luck. Lastly, STAIN OF CORRUPTION is the fourth novel in my Dubric Byerly
forensic fantasy mystery series. Magical corruption Dubric's fought
his whole life gets loose and he has to stop it before it tears apart his team,
his home, and his future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">How does my writing differ from
other books in the same genre?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My work differs on a couple of
levels. First, I can't seem to write a straight genre to save my life, they're
always mish-mashed quirkily violent things that combine often very dissimilar
tropes and expectations. Sometimes that's good - my novels have gobs of twists
and surprises that readers often don't see coming - but sometimes it's bad
because they are hard to categorize and market. The other way they differ is because
I'm not afraid to 'go there'. I tend to write about very dark and violent
topics and no character is sacred, I have never pulled a single narrative
punch, and often the brutality is unnerving and realistic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't flinch. Maybe that's what
makes my work different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Why do I write what I do?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because someone has to shine a
light on the bad things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Um, yay? Go me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">How does
my writing process work?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'd love
to say something cool like I brew a pot of tea every morning, put on some
soothing music, and create marvelous prose, but that would be a lie. It's never
like that for me. Most of the time, the words fight me as if they don't want
to be drawn out into the light. I'll get an idea (I call them nuggets) and
it'll sit and stew and get all slimy in my head until it's about ready to
burst. Then I can, with a little luck and insistence, write it. I write mostly
at night, when everything but my mind is still, and it'll come in fits and
starts. Some nights I'll get 50, 100 words. Some nights I'll get six or seven
thousand. It seems the more I plan or outline, the less words I'll get and the
harder they'll come. Unearthing a nugget and getting it out of my head is the
payoff for me. Once I know all about a story, it's done and fades away, so
outlining usually messes me up more than it helps and, at most, I'll have a
handful of squirrely notes. I wrote a women's fic novel, MORGAN'S RUN, about an
adult survivor of childhood abuse off about three short statements in the
margin of a grocery list. The Dubric novels all started with one sentence
concepts and a couple of sketches. That seems to be my natural method.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The exception to my no-outline habit was my novel SPORE, which was <i>partially</i> planned. For it, knowing I needed
to keep it short (for me, anything under 140k is short) I broke the
concept and plot into sections so that I'd hit the necessary word count limit
at each major juncture. The first 25% (opening), to 33% (end of Act One), to
50% (midpoint pivot), to 67% (end of Act Two), to 75% (begin the final conflicts),
and to the ending resolution. Since it took me far longer to write SPORE than
any other novel I've ever finished, I can't say that it helped in much more
than making sure it wasn't another 150,000 word monster (It clocked in at a
nice, lean 95k) but there were several things I wanted to do storywise but
simply didn't have room for. I do love the book, though. :)<br /><br />That's it for me. <a href="http://danaeayusso.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Danae Ayusso</a> is the next stop on the World Blog Tour. Be sure and visit her next week!</span>Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-68242231810619697812014-05-30T14:41:00.001-05:002014-05-30T14:41:25.017-05:00Almost JuneAs usual, life has been its regular crazy self. I've been writing, taking care of my granddaughter, and trying to get things done, especially decluttering, simplifying life, and figuring out where to go from here.<br /><br />I'll be fifty in June, half a century old, and I'm starting to feel it in my joints and opinions. I'm not as... flexible as I used to be, both literally and figuratively, and it bugs me.<br /><br />For example, I've always loved music, been surrounded with it my entire life. I don't really listen to music anymore, other than occasionally plugging in the iPod when I'm cooking. I rarely have the radio on when I'm driving unless there's weather news I'm trying to keep up with. It's not that I don't like music anymore or even that I think modern music is crap - I don't, and there's actually some I like. I'd just rather have silence.<br />
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Silence. Calm. Less distractions. Peace.<br />
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It's not just with music, but with everything. Simpler food. No TV. Nothing beeping. Nothing in the way.<br /><br />Seems like there's so much chaos lately. I'm not a fan. I'm hoping it's just my age. {{hugs}}<br /><br />Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-49650256426829692672014-03-26T15:04:00.000-05:002014-03-26T15:04:42.932-05:00Forward thinkingI never know how to start posts like this, mostly because my brain is going forty seven directions at once, yet stuck in the same place.<br /><br />It's weird how life is like that, everything's always changing yet it always seems to stay the same.<br /><br />Anyway, let's start with the books.<br /><br />Two novels (SPORE and MORGAN'S RUN) are out of my hands and seeking the next stopping point on their journey to publication. I currently have no idea when, where, how, or any other details. It's just a whole lot of waiting. Waiting's tough. Having no news while waiting is tougher. But we writers just have to stick it out because that's the job. People keep asking me when they can get the books, and I have to shrug and admit I have no flipping clue. As soon as I know, you'll know.<br /><br />I'm struggling with SLIPPAGE, the book I intend to follow SPORE with (it, too, is a speculative thriller, in no story-line way related to SPORE, but I am gonna stick in a <i>very slight</i> connection between the two - Go Ghoulie! ;) ). It's crazy, how stuck I am, especially since the whole book is laid out and glistening in my head and in my notes. I'm just got getting any drama on the page. Seriously, WTF?!? I always have drama on the page. Another issue is getting the main characters (two kids on the run) to open up with me. Both are closed up tight, not willing to divulge <i>anything</i> to me beyond bare bones story essentials, and I haven't been able to crack them open. Yet.<br /><br />Since SLIPPAGE isn't going anywhere other than circling around an assassin of sorts named Huey, who is NOT the focus of the book dammit, I've returned to poking Dubric's next novel, STAIN OF CORRUPTION, with a pointy stick.<br /><br />There are a lot of issues with STAIN, not the least of which is its commercial viability. The original three Dubric novels didn't exactly create new sales records, and, after all this time, I don't think it's likely to sell to a traditional publisher. I could be wrong, yes, but I kinda doubt it. But the fans wants it, precious, but it's gonna be a long, brutal, convoluted, layered kinda book, which will become the pivot point for the second half of the series and I just.... ARRGH.<br /><br />ARRGH.<br />
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Anyway, I've <strike>griped</strike> talked with a couple of friends about it this past week, and have told them about the big twisty storyline shift in mid book. They've been consistently <i>OMG!! This is, OMG!! So cool! OMG!! Fuck, yeah!!</i> and they've helped me <i>maybe</i> figure out a way to pull off the big shift without cheating (I don't want to cheat, but I don't want to show my whole hand for the plot by the midpoint either) so, anyway, I'm kind of back on it. Again. With new hope I can make the big pivot work.<br /><br />That's been the sticking point all this time, how can I pull off the pivot that turns the series from a set of murder mysteries (sort of) to political upheaval and war (sort of) while maintaining the integrity of the storyline, characters, world, and all those pesky ghosts and still keep it exciting, honest, and brutal, all while writing essentially two books in two separate times and storylines all at once? Gah! One of my pre-readers currently has what I've written and I'm hoping he'll have some useable feedback on the actual viability of the overall plan. The book's looking like it'll be crazy-long, a real doorstop of a book, and a whole lot of bodies and ghosts will pile up before it's over<br /><br />I also have a Lars based novella which is about 1/4 done, ish, called <i>Six Sides of Blue</i> where Lars is called to a rural area to investigate the rape of a handicapped girl. I need to get some words in on it this week. No ghosts, no magic, just straight up investigation into some brutality that ends up being bigger than it first seems. Fun, right?<br />
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Okay, that's pretty much it in writing related news.<br /><br />In other matters, I'm back on plan with Weight Watchers, and it's going all right. I'd pretty much fallen off the wagon this past winter and I decided to climb back on a couple of weeks ago. So far so good, but it's a slow, aggravating process. But at least it's working forward again.<br /><br />Health is okay. I'm getting my troublesome-but-not-dangerous medical issue re-checked in May. Really, really hoping it's improved. *fingers crossed* Stupid mutinous parts! Get back to work and quit screwing with my life!<br /><br />Here in Northern Iowa, Spring and Winter are battling for dominance and, today at least, Spring seems to be winning. We've had snow the last few days, but today it's wind and sun, so I am thankful. Since Easter is just a few weeks away and I'm helping out at our community's annual Easter Egg Hunt, I really hope Spring takes control. I don't want to be hiding eggs in the snow. ;)<br /><br />My sewing machine is still acting up so I have done NO SEWING since I sent a couple of quilts out to friends. None. Zippo. It's beginning to feel alarming but I don't know how to fix it. Grr.<br />
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I've had some depressive issues, mostly feeling stuck (see books above, and the weight loss stall) but it seems to be lifting.<br />
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Marketing is just, blergh. Since I do have two novels out in the world seeking publication, I've been looking at marketing (insert gaggy noises complete with exaggerated facial expressions here). My preferred social media venue (Facebook) is limiting the exposure of business page posts to 1-2% of subscribed readership unless you 'pay to play'. I refuse to do that, so I've opened my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/tambo.jones.9" target="_blank">personal FB page</a> to friend request from everyone. I am not happy about this since I've had some issues with boundaries, but it seems to be the best option, considering. I've let a few fans in and so far so good. <a href="https://twitter.com/tambojones" target="_blank">I'm on Twitter</a>, but since I don't have a smart phone and only tweet from my computer I'm not very involved there, plus <a href="https://plus.google.com/100969605986802368857/posts" target="_blank">I am on G+</a>, at least I check it a couple of times a week. And then there are my rare blog posts, which auto-post to <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/345287.Tamara_Siler_Jones" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tamara-Siler-Jones/e/B001IZ163Q" target="_blank">Amazon</a> (which also gets my tweets).<br /><br />Gah, I need a better marketing plan. I am so not good at this stuff.<br /><br />Pets are all fine, but Puufy is acting a little.... uncomfortable. He's ten years old this year and he's had some medical issues in the past. We're all worried he might be creaking toward the end and it bothers me. I loves my Puufums Baby. All of the cats want Spring, dammit! They keep begging to be let out, go out, decide it's still to freaking cold (and there are no birdies, bunnies, etc to chase anyway) so they want right back in only to want back out again 5 minutes later because, surely, Spring has finally come. Right? The dog, tho, is perfectly content to laze around the house and doesn't want anything to do with outside unless he has to potty. MeowMeow, the cat we rescued last fall, is finally fitting in. Mostly. She gets along great with Puufy, but there are occasional altercations with Abbie and Peanut, mostly because MeowMeow starts them. These altercations, however, have decreased dramatically in frequency and noise level, so we're taking all that as indications she's being accepted into the group.<br /><br />I'm not a basketball fan (Go Steelers!!) but I've been watching the NCAA tournament some because Iowa State is playing. I almost went to ISU and my niece is currently a student there (plus we shop in and drive through Ames fairly often). So, <i>Go 'Clones!</i><br /><br />I'm also rooting for Kentucky, mostly because they were plating Kansas State, and I don't like the Wildcats, so Go Kentucky! Yeah, I'm weird. Other than Iowa State and Kentucky, I apparently don't care at all about March Madness. lol I think they're in different brackets. Maybe they'll play each other?? That'd be cool and give me more good reasons to cuss at the TV.<br />
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Bill has remodeling on his mind, which is awesome, but we can't agree on what to do to streamline the house, which is not awesome. We'd like rearrange the plumbing, get a better kitchen (while my kitchen is lovely, it's not very cooking-friendly workspace and layout wise) and a downstairs bedroom/bath. Plus no ceiling on the upstairs-stairs. All without doing a massive gut job of our delightful old Victorian farmhouse or spending a crap-ton of money on a 2-story addition. Is that too much to ask?!? Is it? I mean, really! Geesh! :p<br />
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Bill wants a second floor addition over the back end of our existing kitchen, so he can move the bathroom and get rid of the 'landing' over the lower part of the upstairs stairs, plus straighten the stairs, and simplify the household plumbing and stack. I want a lower level addition so we can move the kitchen and get the bedroom/bath. But if we do the 2-story addition it'll free up all kinds of space to do stuff and we can basically rearrange everything, but we'd end up with 5 or 6 bedrooms and make the house about 3,200 sq. feet (which is insane, we really don't need that much space for the four of us) so it's been a mental exercise in floorplans, cost issues, how to change the basement to accommodate all the support/plumbing/electrical/etc, how do we even get TO the basement with each plan, and what the hell are we gonna do with SIX Bedrooms?!?<br />
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I have to disclose here that Bill and I utterly LOVE remodeling. We'd essentially gutted and re-built our previous 2 houses by ourselves (well, we did hire out the furnace work at the previous place, but that's about it) so we're both finding this wonderfully aggravating and, frankly, encouraging. It's a GOOD sign we're talking about this stuff, even if our house is pretty much awesome just as it is. We'd both been feeling stuck for a long time, no idea what to do to move forward again, to hope again, and we are. Finally. We've even done some rearranging within the existing house, have ordered new living room furniture (it'll be here in about 2 weeks! YAY!!) and are making plans for stuff to do later this year.<br /><br />I am so, so happy with all of this, now if I could just get one of the books to click together (or one of the finished books to sell!), everything would be golden! Have a happy Spring, everyone and many, many {{hugs}}Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-86956544699991702152014-02-11T14:34:00.001-06:002014-02-11T14:34:28.738-06:00TeaThere, right now, six different kinds of tea in our cupboard. I know, because I just counted them. Plain teas, flavored teas, six different kinds of teas.<br /><br />None of them are mine.<div>
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In my household, everyone drinks hot tea except me. Oh, we all drink unsweetened iced tea (it's my beverage of choice all summer and when we go out to eat) but I never developed a taste for the hot stuff. Bill and Laura both have their own steeping pots and our granddaughter is delighted to <strike>steal</strike> take sample sips of whatever blend mommy or pah-pah are drinking, but I only fill up the kettle if I'm making instant cocoa (sugar free, um, <i>yay</i>?) or the occasional instant apple cider (also sugar free).<br /><br />Does anyone else out there drink iced tea, but not hot tea?</div>
Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-28629254088642273382014-02-04T13:28:00.000-06:002014-02-04T13:28:07.604-06:00Welcome to February!Been rather crazy busy here. Working on SLIPPAGE (it's a spec thriller about 2 kids running from a murder rap and a hit man) and it's coming really, really slooooooow, mostly because I always struggle with book openings. I tend to front load books (get the action, main plot points, all the important characters out right away) and that's tough to do in three or four chapters without being infodumpy and boring. So I fight beginnings. Always.<div>
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I had a lovely conversation with fellow writer Shirley Damsgaard last week about it, and we hashed out some ideas (mostly for backstory of the murder victim and the motivation of one of the kids) and it helped. I've had a decent writing week since. Not great, not craptastic. I'm happy with it, anyway. Maybe this opening will be the one! ;)<br /><br />Sewing is... meh. We really can't afford one of the machines that I like, so we got the broken one sort-of fixed. He couldn't find anything wrong with the computer (it's an intermittent fault) so he cleaned, tightened, and did regular maintenance on it. It's running, but that's about all I can say, to be honest. I sewed some over the weekend and kept having problems with thread breakage. I never have problems with thread breakage. So while my machine is working, it's not working as well as I'd like and I really don't trust it to do anything picky or precision oriented.</div>
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Sigh. It's gonna be a tough spring if I can't sew.</div>
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My diet and exercise regimen seems to be getting back on track after falling in the doldrums for about six months. I'm down a couple of pounds, which is good.<br /></div>
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I hope everyone is having a great week and is looking forward to a fantastic February!</div>
Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-18113610915352234552014-01-15T14:38:00.003-06:002019-02-18T09:10:14.686-06:00Broken Threads #2I feel like I have looked at a hundred sewing machines, but it's actually about thirty, total, at six different places.<br />
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They all start to blend together, so thank goodness for brochures. Would I like the $3500 does-everything-but-cook-supper model in the pretty sewing cabinet with a gazillion attachments? Absolutely. Do I need such a machine, or would I use all those swanky features? Probably not. I make quilts, not couture for royalty. I'm looking for power, durability, and precision, not swank.<br />
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I think, at this point, I've narrowed it down to the <a href="http://www.brother-usa.com/homesewing/ModelDetail.aspx?ProductID=SB3129#.UtbvPp9Yt5h" target="_blank">Brother Simplicity SB3129</a> (at about $500, it's by far the least expensive, but I wonder if the price is indicative of durability), the <a href="http://www.pfaffusa.com/30638.html" target="_blank">Pfaff Ambition 1.0</a> (just under $1,000) the <a href="http://www.babylock.com/sewing/tempo/" target="_blank">BabyLock Tempo</a> ($720) and the <a href="http://www.babylock.com/sewing/melody/" target="_blank">BabyLock Melody</a> ($1300). Both BabyLock machines are very similar, except for a few handy features (like automatic thread cutting) and attachments (an extension table included) but are those features worth $600?? In fact, all of the machines are very similar. Now it's just deciding how many bells and whistles I need/want/am willing to pay for (let alone justifying spending that much money on a hobby in the first place) and which brand seems to have the most staying power.<br />
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I have a couple of weeks to decide.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-59091810415669031462014-01-13T15:19:00.001-06:002014-01-13T15:19:45.329-06:00Broken Threads #1Many of you know I make quilts. A lot of quilts. It's a compulsion and I have a freaking boatload of fabric here in the house, even after giving my friend Katie nearly a full trunk of my overflow (as in the trunk of my Corolla, not a steamer trunk, although the volume is probably similar).<br /><br />I've been sewing since our daughter was an infant, maybe three or four months old. She'll be twenty four years old next month and I have made, minimum, 25 quilts a year for the entirety of her life. I made twenty six one summer (it was a very good quilting year) but there have been slow years too, so an average of 25 seems conservative to me. That's right about six <i>hundred</i> quilts. Likely more.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpcoD0wRiWqi7vtHFEVY0M0QIE-USHnJnOutaWrIyUIBMkBC81BvM2HiQVaP0KExm6fJMHnpnGgEMjHxZ1pfcXHJXaZGBdDIYVkcFZWmfN2WXT-_G5OS4UKZWe2e4Ds0mPavu7j-yP8G2/s1600/stakofdawgies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpcoD0wRiWqi7vtHFEVY0M0QIE-USHnJnOutaWrIyUIBMkBC81BvM2HiQVaP0KExm6fJMHnpnGgEMjHxZ1pfcXHJXaZGBdDIYVkcFZWmfN2WXT-_G5OS4UKZWe2e4Ds0mPavu7j-yP8G2/s320/stakofdawgies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Before your eyes pop outta your heads over that crazy number, most of these quilts are on the small side. I've done a couple hundred baby quilts (let's say eight a year, average), I usually only do one bed sized quilt a year (probably 30 total), three or four lap or couch sized quilts a year, and the rest are small, table runners, wall hangings, odd little funky, artsy things. Still, a LOT of quilts.<br /><br />My first sewing machine was a 1953 Elna model I got after my great aunt Mary died. It used different cogs I had to insert into the machine to make it do various stitches. I burned the oomph out of it in about two or three years, mostly making baby clothes plus some quilts. My second machine was an inexpensive BabyLock, and I used it literally to death, wearing out the motor and gears after about six years of quilting, quilting, quilting. When it became too tired to quilt anymore, I bought a really nice computerized Pfaff and I've driven it through hundreds of quilts (very few garments). The Pfaff was a dedicated workhorse. I dragged it all over the place for classes and sew days and to keep me sane during my down time at writing events, even out of state. I love my Pfaff.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFX-UoZxIolvy_oBEAA2cQHi9u0kA5PaeVP2dMllYME-FYAKeh_V8yHl6f6WY4UZIQijI_-TRfjpn3bHV6mlIqT5b4cxIef5dP1uldmiMORxwIqKsLPTpRcqcQ6OI0XPEkCIV-QEOlkGT/s1600/colorwashdesk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFX-UoZxIolvy_oBEAA2cQHi9u0kA5PaeVP2dMllYME-FYAKeh_V8yHl6f6WY4UZIQijI_-TRfjpn3bHV6mlIqT5b4cxIef5dP1uldmiMORxwIqKsLPTpRcqcQ6OI0XPEkCIV-QEOlkGT/s320/colorwashdesk.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Pfaff on my sewing desk.</td></tr>
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But it's a 15 year old, used, abused, and hard worked machine. Over the past few months, it's had oddball issues with stitching (mostly dropping stitches for no discernible reason) but, in November, the computer started to act up. It would 'count' through different stitches (zigzag, basting, buttonhole, stars, etc), while I was sewing, even while the machine was sitting there on but unattended. In short, the poor little computer was dying, and taking my adored sewing machine with it.<br /><br />Since I need to sew or I get a little cuckoo, and it's been nearly two months since I've managed to sew, Bill has basically told me to Go Buy A New Sewing Machine. I am now on a quest. I test drove Brother brand machines today and the <a href="http://craftygemini.blogspot.com/2013/02/sb3129-simplicity-by-brother.html" target="_blank">Brother Simplicity 3129</a> seems to be my best fit, at least in their lines.<br /><br />I'm looking at BabyLock and the new Pfaffs tomorrow, then I'll have to decide what's the best way to go from here. I really miss sewing.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-22420893779636162312013-10-29T23:56:00.000-05:002013-10-29T23:56:40.258-05:00By GeorgeWorking on SLIPPAGE tonight and I took a little break from the still-not-right opening (Gak, I SUCK at openings!!) to follow a link or two and ran across this gem from 2010.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/R37zkizucPU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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It's Louis CK giving homage to George Carlin.<br /><br />And it's freaking awesome.<br />
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The middle of the video is absolute spot-on advice for writers, as well as comedians (and, most likely, any creative professional). It's from about 4:10 to about 8:20. It's the truth and, really, is the only way to get better at a crazy creative job like this.<br />
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Throw out the old.<br />
Dig deeper.<br />
Speak the truth.<br />
Repeat.<br />
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It's scary as hell, but do it anyway.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-73597024294730138162013-10-01T14:25:00.000-05:002013-10-01T14:25:54.476-05:00What's up with Tam?Howdy.<br />
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Life is, as always, its own brand of ups-and-downs-and-all-arounds here and I decided to give everyone a quick update.<br />
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To start off, I have a new agent, Laura Bradford at <a href="http://www.bradfordlit.com/" target="_blank">Bradford Literary Agency</a>. I am incredibly excited about this new phase in my writing career and Laura is going to shepherd me into becoming a major thriller author. She currently has two of my novels, a Mainstream/Speculative Thriller titled <i>SPORE</i> and a quirky New Adult Thriller titled <i>MORGAN'S RUN</i>. Since I've pretty much promised to stop screwing off and actually write two books a year, I've begun another Mainstream/Spec Thriller with a working title of <i>SLIPPAGE</i>.<br /><br />Yeah, yeah, I know none of those are Dubric books. As much as everyone loved the series, it's currently considered non profitable and I just can't keep beating my head against a brick wall that doesn't want to get written and has virtually no hope of selling even if I can get it done. I am not giving up on Dubric and Co - there are a LOT of things I still want to do with the series and characters - it's just not happening right now in my head, my heart, or my life, and I really need to get moving forward again, instead of circling the same damn story. I mean, crap, I've been fighting <i>Stain of Corruption</i> for almost eight years now without making real progress. I need to move on. Maybe I'll get back to it, maybe not, but I'm not doing anyone any good kicking at it but not making progress.<br /><br /><i>SPORE</i> has the potential to be a breakout blockbuster novel and, in fact, I had four agents wanting to rep it, and me, after my original agent decided it was time to retire. FOUR. This could be a very, very big deal here and I am happily writing totally new things. It's exciting and wonderful and if, someday, Dubric, Dien and Lars start banging on my brain again I will definitely write their next foray into the dark. Until then, I must move forward and write cool kick ass books (oh the twists in <i>SPORE</i> and <i>SLIPPAGE</i>!! *swoon*).<br />
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So, anyway, the writing is going pretty damn fantabulous! :)<br />
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I do have some great Dubric news, though. I recently agreed to an offer from a major German publisher for all three novels. They'll come out as three separate trade paperbacks, in German, with all new covers and everything. With one phone call I became an international author, and that's pretty damn cool. I shall do my best to keep everyone updated as news develops there.<br />
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I did my first ever 5k over the weekend and it was awesome, other than I've found myself with shin splints. I do not like these shin splints at all, but I'm stuck with them for the time being.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkDsPsNlsr8EENlHclKqHP3W75tUa3r5pcOkziSTWDeGzbcCzgwH6zON8999Sp9-ll_SN73wm7Ee0yRfplkUUTjT93Jj7V8Mnd-YukeQzgtM8fK5aOluJoZjMUEb1DFgejw7pk_4Cvcju/s1600/shelleyandmeapplefest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkDsPsNlsr8EENlHclKqHP3W75tUa3r5pcOkziSTWDeGzbcCzgwH6zON8999Sp9-ll_SN73wm7Ee0yRfplkUUTjT93Jj7V8Mnd-YukeQzgtM8fK5aOluJoZjMUEb1DFgejw7pk_4Cvcju/s320/shelleyandmeapplefest.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the 5k with a friend. <br />I'm the tall one. ;)</td></tr>
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Our daughter got a job - YAY!! - which means I get to babysit my almost 2 year old granddaughter more. Which is also fun, but often exhausting.<br />
<br />
I'm up for re-election for city council this November, but there are four of us running for three seats. Not sure if I'm going to make the cut or not, and, really, win or lose, I'll be fine either way. It's been an honor to serve and very eye opening.<br />
<br />
My Write Your Novel class at the community college begins October 17th. It was originally slated to start in September, but not enough people signed up, so they've pushed it to a later date. Frankly, I think that most anyone who wants to take a novel writing class doesn't have the money for the tuition (I have absolutely no control over the price) but we'll see what happens in a couple of weeks. I don't want to push the start into November because there's too much likelihood of crappy winter weather and it's already a pretty long drive for me, let alone the potential students.<br />
<br />
Sewing is going all right, when I can carve out time. I've been making smallish, sort-of-artsy quilts for specific people and they've turned out well. They keep me sewing, when I can.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w-KLyNlUKU3-SqemMUVd0UtiPJ6Us_keieR8myOjOKgqrUseZ6qJP6SjI_o1zykLxBsa9nD-6kPTrhUQElh_3p9z2rNnn5i5WQYjIvvH-yHwJQokuWiCp2116QzuF1Ka-SfnAlsiL9Z0/s1600/ljcquilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w-KLyNlUKU3-SqemMUVd0UtiPJ6Us_keieR8myOjOKgqrUseZ6qJP6SjI_o1zykLxBsa9nD-6kPTrhUQElh_3p9z2rNnn5i5WQYjIvvH-yHwJQokuWiCp2116QzuF1Ka-SfnAlsiL9Z0/s320/ljcquilt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's about 22" square, if I remember right. All batik.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm still taking a monthly block making class at the quilt shop. Here's what I sewed in September.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJxjL1X8M44gOXAO_0qTwRdBKg6cSffKypl-4yxawot7yNtseZdDTLAFXd4V3H2i2z5c6jYUt7FtQZgiOs-Vi3nbxBRucZU2NHME9BItdEiiXFujAUSrGmcfzrSlvDAM-qFCj4nyZBC0k/s1600/sep13blocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJxjL1X8M44gOXAO_0qTwRdBKg6cSffKypl-4yxawot7yNtseZdDTLAFXd4V3H2i2z5c6jYUt7FtQZgiOs-Vi3nbxBRucZU2NHME9BItdEiiXFujAUSrGmcfzrSlvDAM-qFCj4nyZBC0k/s320/sep13blocks.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two six-inch blocks.<br />Yep, even that one with all of the diamonds. Six inches.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Frankly, it's the only guaranteed sewing time I have. Wish I had more.<br />
<br />
Health is great. Been drinking protein and fruit smoothies every morning, exercising most every evening, and although my weightloss is still stalled - damn you plateaus!!! - I feel awesome. Other than my shins. They're still hurting.<br />
<br />
We have a new cat, a rescue named MeowMeow (she came with that name). She's all black other than a few white hairs on her belly and is Very Friendly. I really need to take some pics. ;)<br />
<br />
I don't like to end on a downer note, but this past month I lost my long-adored desklamp (it was a miniature draftsman's lamp that I could move around however I wanted) and my granddaughter dumped a full glass of Crystal Light on my Mac keyboard, shorting it out. I have had no luck finding a replacement lamp that I like (sorry, they're all fugly or too big) and I do not like the replacement PC keyboard I'm typing this post on. The command/alt/control/function keys are in the wrong place and, frankly, it can't keep up with my typing or the keys are a slight difference apart or something. I'm getting screwy ass typos which I never used to get and my shortcuts don't work, so I have to pause and find the right key combination. I know it's a nothing first-world kinda problem but it's still aggravating. But we'll be down to Des Moines at some point and I can get a replacement Mac keyboard.<br />
<br />
All in all, though, I'm glad autumn is here. I like fall! {{hugs}}Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-7832231927377300462013-08-12T17:10:00.000-05:002013-08-12T17:10:54.069-05:00Crap! It's August already!I've had such a busy summer. Been babysitting my
granddaughter quite a lot, which is fun but exhausting (at 20 months, she's
getting so big and, wow, is she BUSY!! Wears gramma out! lol), and I've been
trying to find a good home for SPORE, plus working on a round of revisions on
MORGAN'S RUN to better fit the market. I finished the revisions yesterday, so
it'll go out into the world later this week, most likely.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I've received such lovely comments on both books, and I'm so
excited to be working again!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I love both novels, even though they're vastly different
from each other or anything else I've written. I think MORGAN has fairly wide
market appeal and SPORE, good golly, the cross platform and interactive media
potential is staggering. Plus both books totally rock. :) I am very, very happy
with my work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I do, however, worry about author branding. I'm not good at
writing easy to categorize books, let alone able stick with one mix of genres
for anything resembling category consistency. That's not a good thing for a
writer to do, especially in this crazy competitive market. We're supposed to be
romance writers or YA writers or political potboiler writers or whatever, slap
on a label and call it good. I, however, am rather label-defiant, despite
knowing it's gonna bite me in the butt. Probably really, really hard. Yet here
I am, typing away, dancing about with my hands over my poor bitten butt. ;)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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But I can guarantee that every tambobook (that's MY brand,
dammit, <i>tambobooks</i>!) are fast-paced fun and violent
and honest and darkly riveting with a splash of humor and hope. Whether it's Morgan running from her memories or Sean drawing his terror
into his comic or Dubric staggering forward despite the burden of his ghosts, I
write about real people facing very, very bad shit. I try to tell the truth, as
best I can. I don't pull punches, even when it's a hard jab to the reader's
gut. That's a tambobook (yes, with a lower case t. Sheesh! ;), by golly, regardless of what category shelf it lands
on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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With that in mind, I've begun a new story featuring Lars as
he investigates a string of rapes, and it's coming along nicely. It's currently
titled SIX SIDES OF BLUE and will, I think, end up novella length. I'd like to
write an entire Lars-centric book at some point, but neither of us are ready
for that just yet, especially since my story idea is several years in Lars's
future (should he survive that long, ha ha) and the main Dubric series is still
in the 'now'. Speaking of Dubric, his fourth novel, STAIN OF CORRUPTION, is
stalled. Again. I think it's because I am not ready to face the massive explosions
that are about to happen in the story. It's gonna be brutal. For me, as well as
the singed and charred characters.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mean, shit. It's a fire mage, people. Massive. Fucking.
Fire. Miles and miles of instant incineration. Ka-BOOM!! Everyone isn't only
fucked, they're fried.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I look at it and think maybe I need to start drinking. Maybe
a little tequila will help me get past the initial char-fest at least. ;) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I don't drink, so I need to find courage somewhere else.
<br />
<br />
Seriously, though. This is a freaking brutal book. Damn. I just don't know if I
have enough guts to go as far down the hole, as far into the dark, as I need
to, but I keep poking at it and make a little, if sporadic, progress. It's the
middle book of the series and everything takes a hard shift in a different
direction. Just be prepared to lose a lot of characters.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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In less stressful news, I've also been sewing. I started a
block of the month sampler class at a nearby quilt shop from the Eleanor Burns'
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Quilts-Els-Kitchen-Eleanor-Burns/dp/1891776746" target="_blank">Quilts From El's Kitchen</a> book a couple of months ago. Mine is the smaller version, in
6" blocks, with a hot pink calico as the primary fabric. Here's my center
basket block.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-N7CnNQTceZ2y4CfdSocwPqrWsK7Y7_-SLQINMeBl-CjFloqlv2seirNGvw54TVaOfCDxzP0rInKQ0kaTDaocAw78Cfp_eFNmbZhIKcTs57L1kNOEYOt0V5IEuRJhcw55kX4QdO2uXzJN/s1600/pinkbasket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-N7CnNQTceZ2y4CfdSocwPqrWsK7Y7_-SLQINMeBl-CjFloqlv2seirNGvw54TVaOfCDxzP0rInKQ0kaTDaocAw78Cfp_eFNmbZhIKcTs57L1kNOEYOt0V5IEuRJhcw55kX4QdO2uXzJN/s400/pinkbasket.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just look at the points on those teensy triangles! :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In addition to the sampler, I've also been working on a
series of small, artsy quilts. One, my jewel-toned take on a traditional
Carpenter's Wheel block (only much, <i>much</i>
smaller) is going out in the mail tomorrow along with an even more quirky
adaptation of a Dresden Plate, all in pink, that I should mail out Wednesday or
Thursday. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm really enjoying the smaller format quilts. I can do a
lot of precision piecing (which I love gobs) without having the hard, heavy
work of pushing a large quilt though my sewing machine (which I don't love much
at all). I can complete them by myself, from initial fabric cutting, through
piecing, quilting, and binding, unlike bigger quilts, which I usually send out
to get quilted. I really, really don't like doing large quilts, but these small
ones (less than 24 inches square) fit me nicely, plus they've so far been made
right out of my stash, which is nice, too. And they're quick, totally doable in a weekend, even when the piecing is complicated. What's not to love?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
As for super great OMG stuff, my friend <a href="http://shirleydamsgaard.com/" target="_blank">Shirley Damsgaard</a>'s latest novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Widows-Braxton-County-Novel/dp/0062188267" target="_blank">The Widows of Braxton County</a> came out a couple of weeks ago and, today, a reading group was at the quilt shop!! I got to plug Shirley's book for them and got them all revved up and excited to read it. Whoop! Go Shirley!!</div>
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That's about it for me. I hope you're all doing well and
staying cool. {{hugs}}<o:p></o:p></div>
Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-91980413950663229272013-06-16T11:36:00.000-05:002013-06-16T13:39:40.368-05:00Dr. BoyfriendWe have three cats - Abbie (Bill's cat, she's about 15 years old, rather rotund and likes to complain and have doors opened for her), Puufy (my cat, 10 years old this August, extremely fat and fluffy and frequently demands to drink milk or have his food freshened) and Peanut (also my cat, 2 years old, generally easy going, quiet, and playful).<br />
<br />
Peanut is in charge. She has been since she was, oh, nine months old or so. She's, by far, the smallest cat in the house (a slender 8lbs or so while Puufy clocks in at around 24 and Abbie about 17). She's light, she's limber, she's very, very sweet.<br />
<br />
But no one messes with Peanut. Maybe she's a ninja, I dunno, but I have seen her drop out of trees with a bird in her mouth, so she's super good at that, at least. And if Abbie or Puufy piss her off for whatever reason, she'll flip around and bat at them (looks gentle and playful to me) and they BACK THE HELL OFF RIGHT AWAY with much subordinate posturing.<br />
<br />
The pecking order is well established, everyone is cool with it, and all is peaceful in our house of cats.<br />
<br />
Enter Dr. Boyfriend, the neighborhood stray tom.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXeSZGNV_oVKuDtOjsgIqNzkz4FrQstDhC3KKIBsCxmduiMq36tjoKCJ3uhY2RU8dkNc-UxA9zgPVBP4zqvTi-K59OXzW1yeQ-c-1czC0s6XlUbmeqvuNk_ajOXHKDr_6ehMUc6mz5Q2uj/s1600/drboyfriend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXeSZGNV_oVKuDtOjsgIqNzkz4FrQstDhC3KKIBsCxmduiMq36tjoKCJ3uhY2RU8dkNc-UxA9zgPVBP4zqvTi-K59OXzW1yeQ-c-1czC0s6XlUbmeqvuNk_ajOXHKDr_6ehMUc6mz5Q2uj/s320/drboyfriend.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. Boyfriend</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We first met Dr. Boyfriend more than a year ago when he started coming around, mostly trying to start fights with a cat we used to have named Cooper (while very sweet, Coop was huge and prone to improper indoor pooping so he went to become a farm cat), and when our other 'went to the farm' cat Echo went in heat. (She was spayed but apparently had a second uterus and later spooged out four kittens and no local vet would re-spay her. Seriously. Off to the farm with you, crazy alien kitty!!)<br />
<br />
Anyway, Dr. Boyfriend is homeless and hungry and, well, we're cat people who feed him and have on more than one occasion taken him in to give him a safe, warm place to heal after getting his ass handed to him by some other critter. He's reasonably friendly, cuddly, and all that, he just wants his freedom, by golly! Gotta woo the babes, don'tcha know?<br />
<br />
But poor Dr. Boyfriend is rather small. Here he is with Peanut who is 'regular cat sized' instead of the super jumbo economy sized Abbie and Puufy.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_53Q_MMxT_dnHtDaNaOR5iwstYgkeB-qBxyGzTZvffh9FmQ-kuoq9OF5HX19VLp9Se9gJ9V7CUAHyhMAYr9Gp9vakAf7_u9USZitFO8AeHOx-q7S-CTATTLJN_az8AOPW5Gyk_qLcQzN/s1600/drboyfriendandnutty1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_53Q_MMxT_dnHtDaNaOR5iwstYgkeB-qBxyGzTZvffh9FmQ-kuoq9OF5HX19VLp9Se9gJ9V7CUAHyhMAYr9Gp9vakAf7_u9USZitFO8AeHOx-q7S-CTATTLJN_az8AOPW5Gyk_qLcQzN/s320/drboyfriendandnutty1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uh huh. You're not fooling anyone, Dr. Boyfriend!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Today, he has decided to take on Peanut. Who seems to find this humorous.</div>
<br />
He is literally about half her length and, standing up, the top of his head barely reaches her shoulder. He's heavy and solid, but not very big. No wonder he gets his ass kicked a lot. ;)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She has spent the past half hour or so allowing him to sneak up on her, then she'll glance over her shoulder and give him a look as if to say, ''Seriously, dude? Are you really that stupid?" Then he'll flop onto the ground and chirp and roll to show that it's all play, really, until she turns away and he starts stalking her again.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmV7SUpm4acD2rXxqjPJF5l_L-VfOm1pHJ8I0dmcYH1aYiS4Mqp6FPViVYiRSwIcCFETdukhflxZRciOeu0yricVCzhkVrhsYnENxYZ8xWNJF8MdV0KRQIq6iWjZbsuPDNcwHz_ux3Elu/s1600/drboyfriendandnutty2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmV7SUpm4acD2rXxqjPJF5l_L-VfOm1pHJ8I0dmcYH1aYiS4Mqp6FPViVYiRSwIcCFETdukhflxZRciOeu0yricVCzhkVrhsYnENxYZ8xWNJF8MdV0KRQIq6iWjZbsuPDNcwHz_ux3Elu/s320/drboyfriendandnutty2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I shall hide behind this anthill and grass for a few minutes <br />
to give you a sense of safety, Dr. Boyfriend! Bwahaha!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I expect the ass kicking to commence any minute now, but it's currently all quiet out in our front yard. Abbie and Puufy, though, have filled up on Meow Mix and taken seats on the wicker furniture to watch the upcoming event. ;)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-92140882515571584092013-06-07T10:36:00.004-05:002013-06-07T10:36:57.314-05:00Adult EdIt's looking like I'll be teaching a writing adult ed class this fall. I've been pondering the possibilities for a few days, and I think I'm going to go with <i>Write That Novel!</i> (or something close to that, anyway). I'm thinking a 6 week class, meeting a week for two hours a session. There will be handouts and, hopefully, much discussion. :)<br />
<br />
I have to clear everything with the coordinator, but this is my current 6-week lesson plan of action! :)<br />
<br />
<b>Week 1: </b><i>Decisions to Make Before You Actually Start to Type</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Writing Isn't Easy, it's WORK</li>
<li>Creating Dedicated Time and Space to Write</li>
<li>Nailing down the Concept</li>
<li>Choose the Right Genre</li>
<li>Choosing a Workable Yet Sellable Length</li>
<li>WTF is POV?</li>
<li>Tense and Tension</li>
<li>Your Unique Voice</li>
<li>Daily Word Counts</li>
<li>Manuscript Format</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Week 2, Part 1:</b> <i>How Much Structure Do You Need?</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Building the Framework of Structure</li>
<li>Winging it vs Pre-Planning</li>
<li>Types of Outlines and Methods</li>
<li>The Hero's Journey</li>
<li>When it's Okay to Go Off Path</li>
<li>Where to Put Key Events, Inciting Incident, Etc.</li>
<li>Characters, Part One: Protagonist and Antagonist</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Week 2, Part 2:</b> <i>The Opening</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Where Does the Story Start?</li>
<li>The Opening Sentence, Paragraph, and Page</li>
<li>Characters, Part Two: The Supporting Cast</li>
<li>Frontloading Narrative</li>
<li>Keeping it TIGHT</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Week 3:</b> <i>Getting Past the Hump</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>The Muddle in the Middle</li>
<li>Writing And Story Fatigue</li>
<li>Life Distractions</li>
<li>Getting Lost While Staying On Track</li>
<li>How Your Structure Can Help</li>
<li>Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Week 4:</b><i> Finish That First Draft!</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Keep Pushing, Even if it Sucks</li>
<li>Ratchet that Tension!</li>
<li>What Does A Climax Need?</li>
<li>Denouement, or Letting Go</li>
<li>Checking Your Story Threads</li>
<li>What if You Missed Something?</li>
<li>Set it Aside. Yes, I Mean It.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Week 5:</b> <i>Revision</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>The Read Through</li>
<li>Taking Notes and Making Them Work For You</li>
<li>Writing Groups and Taking Critique</li>
<li>Spelling and Grammar Check</li>
<li>It's Not a Baby, It's A Book</li>
<li>All Things Serve The Story</li>
<li>Kill Those Darlings</li>
<li>Tighten, Tighten, Tighten</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Week 6:</b> <i>The Art of Getting Published</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>What do YOU Want?</li>
<li>Traditional, Indi, and Vanity Publication</li>
<li>Formatting Your Manuscript</li>
<li>Querying Agents</li>
<li>How New York Works</li>
<li>Submissions</li>
<li>Contracts</li>
<li>Marketing</li>
<li>Getting Paid</li>
<li>Start The Next Book!</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
That's what I'm thinking. There's a LOT to cram into a 6 week class.<br />
<br />
Any thoughts?Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-48772306067327049682013-06-06T00:30:00.000-05:002013-06-06T00:30:03.154-05:00Toddlers and Desk LampsI have a pretty cool desk lamp I've had for years. It's brushed nickel with a folding arm (I call it draftsman style) and uses a single halogen bulb. It's not too big, not too small... I really like my lamp.<br />
<br />
So does my granddaughter.<br />
<br />
She insists on playing with it, no matter how much I try to dissuade her. She wants to fiddle with the springs that hold it upright and in place. She wants to fiddle with the cord. She wants to move the shade up down and all round. Mostly, tho, she wants to touch the light.<br />
<br />
It's an exposed halogen bulb. The lens broke years ago. Silly me has told her no countless times, slapped her hand a few, and done all I can to keep her from sticking her little hand up into the bright light. <i>It's hot!</i> I say. <i>Burn you!</i><br />
<br />
She's eighteen months old and fearless. Typical for her age. My words of caution mean nothing!<br />
<br />
Today, while she was sitting on my lap (and after having been scolded away from the lamp several times already), she lurched sideways and went for it before I could stop her. Our girl is quick, crafty, and determined.<br />
<br />
Sure enough, she scorched a finger, the back of the first joint of her left index finger, to be precise. She didn't cry (she merely made a startled 'Aahh!' sound and frowned at me while flicking her finger). Poor girl. She's currently bandaged with antibiotic ointment per her doc's office consultation instructions but otherwise fine.<br />
<br />
Didn't teach the little-stinker-butt anything, though. She's still wanting to play with my lamp.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-67719007504327030082013-06-05T00:23:00.000-05:002013-06-05T00:23:11.198-05:00McMusingsWe have a toddler in the house. Specifically our granddaughter, who is 18 months old, right about three feet tall, on the slender side, and goes Full Speed All Of The Time.<br /><br />We refer to it as 'Very. Busy.'<br />
<br />
She's a climber (our little monkey) and she wants it all and she wants it now, as most toddlers tend to be. We usually try to burn off some of this excess energy and determination (which helps everyone in the house have a reasonable bedtime, ha ha) by going to the park just beyond our back fence, or by playing for hours on end in the back yard. Preferably both, several times, in any given day.<br />
<br />
That's not always possible, especially since we can't seem to go more than a few hours without rain lately. So, what's a tired gramma to do on a rainy day?<br />
<br />
Sometimes we go to the mall and I let her run while I scurry along behind (hey, that's exercise for me, too!!). Sometimes we go to the grocery store with all of the cool stuff to look at and taste and people to talk to (and a steering wheel to spin around as she pretends to drive). Sometimes I knock over grandpa's computer chair and she climbs up and over and around and through it, then we make a fort/tent with her favorite blanket, and we wrestle, and stuff like that.<br /><br />Tuesday night, though, she was wound up after being cooped up all day, Grandpa needed his chair, I had no desire to spend an hour or more literally running around the mall, and we didn't need groceries.<br />
<br />
So we went to McDonald's to play in the tubes with other kids.<br />
<br />
She was fine, happy and squeeing and going up, down, and all around the kiddy tubes and slides, all while stopping at our table after every circuit to get a drink and something to munch on (my girl loves her unsweetened iced tea and apple slices!!) but some of the other kids... Not so much.<br />
<br />
First, I'd like to say that I know boys will be boys and some climbing is gonna happen. When we got there, there were eleven other kids. Eleven. Two, a boy and a girl of, oh, 6-8 years old, were brother and sister and kept trying to figure out how to get past the fencing to behind the tube-maze. Their mother wouldn't let them do more than make feeble attempts, but she did let them climb a little on open areas. Mostly they played and laughed and were just fine. Regular kids.<br />
<br />
The other nine? Not so much.<br />
<br />
They were there in a group. Four moms, nine kids, seven of which were boys. One little boy was just walking, and there was a girl of about 12, but the rest were spaced roughly between 5 and 10 years old.<br />
<br />
These kids, other than the barely walking infant and the nearly pubescent girl, climbed over EVERYTHING. Two of them repeatedly got on the top of the tube contraption, back beyond the fencing to 'off limits areas', and got themselves stuck in places kids obviously weren't supposed to go.<br />
<br />
I really didn't mind the climbing much, and, like I said, boys will be boys and they do stuff like that, but, well, when an area is locked, fenced, and marked 'off limits', I tend to think the parents ought to discourage their little darlings from going there. Or their kids being about 20 feet in the air walking on a tube or pipe. But what do I know?<br />
<br />
I could let the climbing and generalized naughtiness slide without too much of a second thought, but four of these seven boys (the four biggest) seemed to be trying their best to disassemble the whole dang thing. They jumped up and down on weak points (like a propeller on one of the pod areas). They tugged on the netting, swinging from it, obviously trying to get it to pop out of the bolts and fastenings (but if it had, they would have fallen about fifteen feet). They lay down inside of the tubes and kicked against the inside of view ports over and over and over trying to pop them loose. They kicked, pulled, jumped, wriggled, and slammed everything they possibly could, preferably if it meant they could get into a restricted area to do it.<br />
<br />
All the while the mothers sat and watched and did nothing, until the little girl (she was maybe 6??) got stuck in a fenced off area about 10' up in the air. What did her mother do? Marched over to where her daughter was crying for help and told her to jump because it wasn't like she was gonna break her leg or anything. Then she went back to the table and her conversation with her friends.<br />
<br />
Seriously.<br />
<br />
And the barely walking infant managed to climb all the way into the tubes and get himself up at the top, but unable to find his way back out. They left him up there whimpering while they all walked to the counter to get ice cream.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm weird or old fashioned, but I cannot fathom allowing my kid to be willfully destructive like these kids were. I can't imagine letting a baby who's obviously too small to be in the tubes without assistance be in the tubes without assistance. And I also can't imagine leaving all of my supper mess (including spilled drinks, smeared ketchup, thrown food, and I dunno how many wrappers and napkins) just sitting there on the tables for someone else to clean up.<br />
<br />
They all were nice enough to my granddaughter, gave her space to do her thing, smiled at her, told her 'hi' and other friendly things, and a couple of the kids even talked to me as they gleefully tried to jump on the propeller until it broke. So they weren't all bad, just... physically out of control, and no one seemed to give a damn.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-51604913245508657382013-06-04T14:10:00.000-05:002013-06-04T14:10:49.832-05:00Getting FixedI come from a long line of big, friendly people and, for much of my life, I was the smallest of my siblings, and even smaller than some of the extended family.<br /><br />Since I'm tall, and 'extra cuddly' sized, that's saying a lot.<br /><br />Other than sinus allergies and Rosacea, I've always been healthy, despite being heavy. My brother had his stomach done a few years ago, my sister has lost more than 100 lbs with the help of TOPS, but I remained basically the same weight, at least within 10 lbs or so, for more than twenty years. I also have extreme self confidence issues, part due to the introversion, part not. They all tend to compound and reflect back on one another. Overweight, introverted, depressed, fearful, avoidant, self loathing! Welcome to the family ferris wheel! Round and round we go!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBVNb04zkV2bc_MjYDMgOPoEMMwyEUwgdCA6Mu4uMqh99fGV0X-M-63VU32GNkrUrUF5f2cUvoZ7-1aFSIORZoEYoNRsbWgK0N8qv9LRfU5ZgfVAU1Uj-tgKPO7tsuQ5N3JVTQbW_8ZrS/s1600/MeJan2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBVNb04zkV2bc_MjYDMgOPoEMMwyEUwgdCA6Mu4uMqh99fGV0X-M-63VU32GNkrUrUF5f2cUvoZ7-1aFSIORZoEYoNRsbWgK0N8qv9LRfU5ZgfVAU1Uj-tgKPO7tsuQ5N3JVTQbW_8ZrS/s320/MeJan2012.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, 2012, before I decided to wrestle the weight tiger.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Things started to change for me when we moved up here in 2008. Our daughter went off to college (she's back home now, with a daughter of her own) and it gave me what could best be described as too much spare time. I used a good hunk of it to change myself and my mindsets, starting with Lasik. I've always been dreadfully nearsighted (just like my mother), but when bifocals became necessary, I lost all depth perception and started falling/tripping. A LOT. Yeah, I'm introverted, but the necessity of staying home because walking out in the world meant tripping over the tiniest cracks and falling on my face was a very scary prospect. Anyway, I got lasered in 2009 and now only need glasses to read, which is pretty cool.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1kdjsx8OyxYC222Gu6S88VKrRNxsJ0BAp4fY0sHELhJf3t4GZCJn4dH2TwSIyVhm_t0DP9-UA2n_RyhSJ3GfKefXNPYVphJM09ugJu2mbyyOw3tGzsfYj08zPv7wTcc_lKTliV7WLWYe/s1600/merightnow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1kdjsx8OyxYC222Gu6S88VKrRNxsJ0BAp4fY0sHELhJf3t4GZCJn4dH2TwSIyVhm_t0DP9-UA2n_RyhSJ3GfKefXNPYVphJM09ugJu2mbyyOw3tGzsfYj08zPv7wTcc_lKTliV7WLWYe/s320/merightnow.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like funky reading glasses. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was astounding to me how much losing my glasses opened up my life and my mind. One of the many, many shields I'd manufactured for myself was no longer there to hide behind and it was a terrifying yet liberating experience. But, hey, it was a start! With that barricade destroyed, I decided to deal with the writing demon. Writing, for me, had never been a pleasant endeavor, always mired in angst and pain and anger. I used it to vent, to purge, to drain off internal poisons, and to let the darkness loose before it ate me alive. I stopped writing after <i>Valley of the Soul</i> for a lot of reasons, but pretty much all of them were, admittedly, psychological and based on fear. Once my eyes were fixed, I decided to stare at the writing monster once again and make it my bitch instead of the other way around.<br />
<br />
In 2010, I wrote an amazing, twisty, hopeful novel called <i>Morgan's Run</i>. Almost everyone who's read it has gushed and raved about it, but it was, supposedly, 'unsellable'. I'm not exactly sure why. My only theory is it's because the MC (a child abuse survivor suffering with extreme PTSD) and her situation are rather nuts. Morgan's crazy, yes, but that's why I like her so much.<br />
<br />
There's still hope for Morgan - YAY!! - and I'm trying to figure out how to tweak her into a NA book instead of a mainstream psycho-thriller. I'm so excited she still has hope. :)<br />
<br />
While working on <i>Morgan's Run</i>, writing once again became a compulsion, but not a painful one. I considered this to be great progress. Unlike the Dubric books, she wasn't an endless trudge of pain and suffering and cutting my psyche open to slap the bloody mess onto the page while it lay there twitching and screaming. There was blood, yes, and pain and tears, but none of it was forced, and none hurt more than it helped. Morgan's Run was incredibly cathartic. And short. I think it's about 95,000 words which for me isn't much longer than a short story. lol<br /><br />Anyway, I adore Morgan and I'm so, so glad she might yet find a home.<br />
<br />
While working on Morgan, I kind of forced myself to become more outgoing. I served as Treasurer for our quilt guild, I worked part-part time at a quilt shop (talking to real people!! Aaack!!), I got onto FaceBook, I self published three short stories (all of the proceeds go to charity), and I joined the Des Moines chapter of Sisters In Crime.<br />
<br />
I've cut back some on my responsibilities (SinC especially since time and gas are at a premium) but I'm still making myself be involved in things outside of my head and home. But, anyway, Morgan wasn't selling and I really, really wanted to get back to work as a writer, so I asked my agent what he thought I should write next. I gave him short synopses/concepts of several ideas I had. He picked <i>SPORE</i>, a book about a haunted comic book artist and people who are no longer dead, so in 2012, I began.<br />
<br />
Also, around that time, I noticed my knees were becoming increasingly problematic, my feet hurt all of the time, and my energy level... Frankly it sucked. All of my medical particulars were still just fine, but I really needed to deal with the excess weight. I wrestled a long, long time with this because I was hiding behind my weight. It was just one more barrier. I knew it, my husband knew it, my physician knew it. Shit, everyone who knew me knew it. I, however, was reluctant to lose that last bastion of safety. But I needed to. Having been overweight for nearly my entire life, I'd tried losing weight before, with almost every possible plan under the sun. Nothing had ever worked, or more accurately, nothing had ever 'stuck' because I'd slip up and throw in the towel. So, what to do?? My friends Jean and Wendy had found a good deal of success with Weight Watchers, and while I'd tried them decades ago (I think I was still in high school) my research showed that they were highly rated on successes, especially in the long term. I liked the idea of structure with flexibility, and I liked that going to meetings meant you weren't doing it all alone.<br /><br />I kind of need some sort of real accountability.<br /><br />So I talked it over with Bill and, despite the cost (oy, the cost!!!) I joined up in September, with meetings plus online. Also, contrary to my natural cheap nature, I'm all in. I buy the smoothies, I buy the fiber bars, I have the exercise DVDs, the whole shebang, even the ActiveLink fitness monitor, which has been a godsend at keeping me from sitting on my ass all day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSasmpoBb2YwgxmXbijvM2yk4PRWUgKxJyzA73j0KFa3ixF8doREmlYjrF8-8blKn5eFWA6Owx_bL2RjIIxnHbEDcQh99fWbwjcj9V09j0nalKjiKSoOvXP4yCC4YCsRLR_5IcKkiH5fvZ/s1600/mejune13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSasmpoBb2YwgxmXbijvM2yk4PRWUgKxJyzA73j0KFa3ixF8doREmlYjrF8-8blKn5eFWA6Owx_bL2RjIIxnHbEDcQh99fWbwjcj9V09j0nalKjiKSoOvXP4yCC4YCsRLR_5IcKkiH5fvZ/s320/mejune13.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, today.</td></tr>
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As of my last weigh in, I'm down 36 lbs. Not as fast as I'd like (it never is) but averaging a pound a week is pretty cool. Bill is ecstatic, my physician is ecstatic, and my clothes are all too big. My shoes are too big. It's insane. I'm looking at doing a 5k this fall, just walking it - my knees won't stand for a run longer than a minute or so - but Damn. Me. I still have a long way to go, but this is totally doable, long term, lifetime, forever. And it's making other things better, every lost pound lets in a little more light.<br /><br /><i>SPORE</i> is done - it was a frustrating pleasure to write and I finished it right before Thanksgiving last year - and I'm currently awaiting another batch of changes from The Agent. It will, with luck, sell to a major publisher sometime this year. I hope it does. I hope he can find a publisher for Morgan too, assuming I can nudge her into the New Adult realm.<br />
<br />
I need another book to work on, but so far my brain keeps downshifting back to Morgan and SPORE. I'm not sure why, exactly, maybe because they're still 'unfinished business', maybe because the true concept of the next great twisty story hasn't yet taken root in my brain (I have a few seedlings, but nothing strong enough to pull on yet). I'm not sure, but I'm also not worried. Frustration with writing is no longer about facing the pain, it's about trying to cram a pissed off bobcat into a gallon ziplock bag. Length. Good golly, I fight LENGTH. How the hell does anyone write a coherent book under 90k?? I struggle to trim to get it to squeeze in under 100 and would much rather have 150. It's a FIGHT I tell ya! That's the hard part, keeping it short enough to sell.<br /><br />And for that I am ever so thankful. After Dubric, I honestly never thought I'd enjoy writing, but I do.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-37913565839501020662013-06-03T20:34:00.001-05:002013-06-03T20:45:50.888-05:00Three monthsThat's apparently how long it takes me to make myself write a blog post.<br />
<br />
Too long, I know, but even after a decade of doing this, I'm still not a comfortable blogger.<br />
<br />
I have a rather mundane, quiet, non-eventful life, and that's just fine with me. It does, however, make blog topics tougher to root up, since I doubt anyone cares about folding laundry, yelling at the dog to quit barking his fool head off because some other dog has <i>dared</i> to pee in his yard, or cooking porkchops. Which we had for supper tonight, mostly because they were in the front part of the freezer and Bill loves porky chops.<br />
<br />
I'd asked a few friends yesterday about potential blog topics, and have decided today to talk about where we live. In June of 2008, we moved from the 'Des Moines Metro' (which in our case meant unincorporated almost rural dead-end dirt road nowhere a few miles outside of Des Moines) to a small town in Northwest Iowa, because of Bill's job. He works for the post office and he used to fix the mechanical parts of the mail sorting machines (belts, hoses, chains, etc) but the move came with a promotion to fixing the electronic parts (wiring, computery bits, switches, etc) and a pretty hefty pay increase.<br />
<br />
To say we 'jumped on that puppy' would be an understatement.<br />
<br />
So, anyway, we moved up here, and bought a pretty cool Victorian house on a large lot near the middle of a very small town. We went from an acreage to 'in town', and it's something all of us still struggle with, but for different reasons. For Bill, there's Not. Enough. Outdoor. Space. and he feels kind of fenced in and claustrophobic even though we have one of the largest lots in town. For our daughter, who grew up 10 minutes from movies, shopping, restaurants, and countless buildings taller than 2 stories, it's 'too country'. For me, it's just about right, other than All. The. People. which I'll get to in a moment.<br />
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Plus there's no good barbeque up here. The closest is more than an hour away. Seriously, that bites.<br />
<br />
Anyway, there are less than 600 people here in our little community and it's, roughly, seven streets running East/West crisscrossed by seven streets running North/South in a sort of cockeyed, jaggedy-edged fashion. I walk the outskirts most evenings around dusk, and, including walking from my house to the west edge, then back to the house again after making the complete circuit, Google Maps says it's a 2 mile trek. So it's less than 1/2 mile on a side. Ish. That's pretty small. We have the stereotypical one church and one bar (plus a gas station/convenience store that sells chips, pop, candy and a few non-perishable staples at slightly higher prices than the grocery store 10-12 miles away) a feed store, a grain co-op, a post office (only open a few hours a day), a fire station, and a very small library which doesn't carry my books. The town is bisected by a N/S highway (in Iowa that means 2 lane blacktop) and an E/W highway. The next closest town is about 8 miles straight East and they have a quilt shop. I'm there quite a lot. Between us and any of the surrounding towns are miles and miles of corn and soybean fields. Oh, there are a few farm houses and a stream or two (and the occasional grazing cow or horse) but it's pretty much all crops. This time of year, and after our lengthy and very wet spring, the fields are pretty much all mud. Normally, everything would be planted, but not this year. Not yet, at least. And there's worry there may be no soybean crop at all.<br />
<br />
You get the idea.<br />
<br />
Our house backs up to the largest of three city parks - no close by neighbors that way - but we had single, retired women on each side of us, until one of them moved to Western Arkansas last year. Or maybe it was Eastern Oklahoma. I honestly don't remember. The gal on the one side is still here, and she's very much into lawn work and has a GORGEOUS yard. Manicured lawn, flower beds, decorative do-dah's. It's just lovely. She has a little Westie named Mookie. Mookie is quite cool, but he and our Gozer (big, gruff lab mix) do not get along. She has a friend a couple of blocks away who picked apples from our tree the fall after we moved here and is super nice. The other single gal's house was put on the market last year and had a renter, then a contract buyer, but it just sold this past week. I think the new owner and his teenage daughter mowed yesterday. We all nodded hello, but didn't talk.<br />
<br />
Across the street is a couple about our age with grown children and a lot of dogs. They both work and aren't home much. They're on a corner. Across that street from them is the Lions' Club secretary and his family (I think he works at a lab. I think). Beyond him, I have no idea. Next to the gal who has moved's house (and across our street from the Lion's Secretary) was an older guy and his adult daughter. I believe he was an over the road truck driver, and she came back home after a divorce/breakup/job loss, but no one's seen them for a long time so I guess they've moved. They had a couple of big mixed breed dogs.<br />
<br />
It's weird, I know people by their dogs. lol<br />
<br />
On the other side of the middle aged couple with all of the dogs is an elderly man (pretty sure he used to work for the grain co-op because the trucks always honk as they pass his house) and his middle aged daughter. She works at the community gas station. They don't have a dog. Past them on that side of the street... I don't know anyone, but I know their neighbors let their dogs loose to potty and of course they cross the street and come over here to pee on our maple tree and drive Gozer bugshit insane. They are friendly dogs, tho.<br />
<br />
Past the lady beside us with the Westie and the gorgeous lawn is an older couple with 2 Daschunds. He is a semi-retired teacher, and I have no idea what she does. We've actually only talked to them because last summer he fell off a ladder and she knew I was home so she ran over here asking for help. That's how we met. Really. Otherwise I'd have no idea. Their dogs are cool though and every time we walk up the alley they rush at the fence, barking, and we laugh about the attack of the ferocious wiener dogs. They're not ferocious at all, just wiggly and waggly and barking. Very cute. Our cats like to tease them. The house past them (on the corner) has two old retriever mixes and a wire haired fox terrier looking mutt dog. And a gorgeous calico cat. Across the alley from them (toward the park behind our house) has a LOT of kids, a different calico cat, and a friendly mixed breed dog. Across the street from the folks with the retrievers and wire-haired mix is a younger family with two <i>gorgeous</i> Dalmatians. I dunno what he does, but she works at the lab and is on the city council.<br />
<br />
On the far side of the park, at the corner, is the Lions club president and his family. He's the only one we've ever met. A block or so west of the park is the city maintenance guy and his family. His son just became and Eagle Scout. A couple of blocks north and one block west of us is the mayor's house. He and his wife have two daughters (they frequently come to our door selling stuff for church, school, girl scouts, etc) and they have great danes plus foster cats for the humane society.<br />
<br />
Oh! Right next to the park (across the street from the big house with lots of kids and the friendly mixed breed dog) is the house with the camper and two Boston Terriers, both of which are sometimes loose and running the town and have tried to bite us as we take walks. We do not like the Boston Terriers much. Gozer chooses to pee on them instead of opening the can of whup-ass like he does with little Mookie next door. It's actually kind of funny in a twisted kind of way to see the PITA terriers frozen in fear and getting peed on. But Mookie does talk a lot of smack while the Boston Terriers are pretty much silent, so I guess it makes sense in doggy logic.<br />
<br />
That's pretty much everyone we know, usually via their pets, other than the other city council members and a couple of firemen, who we know on sight, but have no idea where they live in town. Oh! I've spoken a couple of times with the local Pastor, who is an incredibly nice man, and there's a house across from the library who have cut a hole in their garage to help feed and shelter the local stray cats, plus the couple across from the fire station who make a point to keep cat food out for the strays (we do too) so we sort of but not really know a few cat people too. And the gal who babysits and brings the kids to the park behind our house. My granddaughter and I go over to play with them most mornings.<br />
<br />
So we've lived her five years this month and know only a handful of people. Which, frankly, was just fine with me. I am incredibly introverted, but, um, well, I'm also political. And apparently personable or friendly or something. Because in March I was, sort of appointed to the City Council, much to my introversion's terror.<br />
<br />
Two people had just left the council, one in retirement, one because of moving to follow a job, and the council needed two more members, pronto. I was approached by our city clerk (she lives in a town about 10 miles north of us) asking if I'd be interested in taking a seat until the elections this November. I agreed, mostly because I am rather political (I go to caucus, I vote, and I try to pay attention to issues) and because I feel that as a citizen, there are certain things that, when asked, are duties and responsibilities. So I said okay.<br />
<br />
Five of us apparently said okay, because five of us showed up for the two open seats and the mayor decided to put our names in a hat (actually it was a coffee cup) and draw them. I was drawn first, then the other new councilman (who I think, but am not certain, owns the troublesome Boston Terriers).<br />
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Then, at Easter, the Lions Club had their annual Easter Egg Hunt and, with the candy, included a note explaining they were down to a scant few members and if they didn't get more members they'd have to disband. I'm pretty much pro Easter Egg Hunting, and Halloween Parties, and Christmas Parties and, well, generally Pro Kid Activities, so now Bill and I both are also Lions.<br />
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While I'm delighted to help, I'm not sure I like all of this Public Exposure stuff very much. Just this past week, I found myself in the middle of an issue between the local bar, fire department, and Lions simply because I agreed to do someone a favor.<br />
<br />
Sigh. I do not like drama.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I love our little town, it's the perfect size for me, but I'm not sure yet if I'll run for reelection this fall, or how long I will be a Lion. Guess it'll depend on how much socializing I can take. When I walk into the gas station for a pop and people there greet my arrival with 'Hey Tammy!', it's a bit much.<br />
<br />
So we'll see.Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-1488937041506199152013-03-03T23:04:00.000-06:002013-03-03T23:04:09.954-06:00MoneyYeah, I titled this Money.<br />
<br />
Many of you might know that Amanda Palmer (aka AFP or Amanda Fucking Palmer), she who makes music, breathes art, and smooches Neil Gaiman on a regular basis, recently put out a TED Talk.<br />
<br />
I love TED Talks. Just want to clarify that.<br />
<br />
Anyway, AFP, <a href="http://on.ted.com/Amanda" target="_blank">in her Talk</a>, explained how, to her, it's about connections. It's about trust. It's about believing the fans will be there, will help you, will let you sleep on their couch, and how they will support you (the artist) in all possible ways, including financially, even if (maybe <i>especially</i> if) you put the work out there for free.<br />
<br />
Frankly, I believe this too.<br />
<br />
Sort of.<br />
<br />
Today, <a href="http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2013/03/03/the-art-of-asking-for-writers-and-storytellers/" target="_blank">Chuck Wendig wrote an awesome blogpost</a> (btw, it's actually very light on his usual conversational profanity) about AFP's TED talk and his own uncertain take on the whole trust/free concept.<br />
<br />
Read it. Please. I'll wait. :)<br />
<br />
Okay, y'all with me so far? TED talk about trust and connection, writery art versus musicy art, keeping food in your kid's belly, believing in fans, and so forth.<br />
<br />
I am right there, in all of it. The good, the bad, the WTF is the answer?!? But my reasons and methodology (and internal issues) are, sadly, my own.<br />
<br />
I, too, was raised to 'have a job' in a lower-income rural midwestern home. I absolutely am not saying I was ever told to put the art part aside. Heavens no, although while I was working as a graphic designer I was asked several times when I was gonna grow up and get a 'real job' as if dealing with clients and creating art on demand wasn't real work, but I digress. My dad was a professional musician on the weekends (weekdays he was a machinist) almost until his death, and my mother worked mostly in bookkeeping (the kind like accounting, not taking bets, ha ha) and other officey work until she finally retired a few years ago. My family is crammed tight with artists and musicians, even a comic. Some are professional (as in regularly getting paid), most are hobbyists (as in mostly not getting paid). I am, as far as I know, the only working writer, although my niece may have also been bitten by that particular bug. Time will tell. I do know that my daughter could be a far better writer than I am - she totally kicks my ass at storytelling - but has zero desire to sling words, just as I have zero desire to be a musician. Seen it, grew up with it. Thanks anyway, I'm not that crazy.<br />
<br />
Ever meet my daughter, feel free to ask her if she wants to be a writer. That's pretty much exactly what she'll tell you. <i>Hell no, I'm not that crazy.</i><br />
<br />
Anyway, I came into this job - and it <i>IS</i> a job - knowing full well the pay sucks. Generally speaking, novelists put in months and months of work for little to no pay. Most books lose money, and few find an audience at all beyond close family and a few indulgent friends. It's a rarity to get the 'big advance' and rarer still to be a bestseller, let alone a consistently working, consistently paid writer.<br />
<br />
I am blessed. I am. I've done the impossible, gone from rural nobody to published novelist. It can be done! But the being published part isn't why my work keeps showing me I'm blessed.<br />
<br />
I'm blessed because my home life and my family is intact and flourishing, despite the madness of the job. I'm blessed because my husband makes enough for us to live on so I can chase this writing beast in my own oddball way. I'm blessed because I have fans and many - an astounding number - have become friends. I'm blessed because I'm working again (GoSpore!!) and it's looking pretty golden up ahead. I'm blessed that lots of people read and love my books. I'm blessed because I know that while plenty of folks have downloaded the free .pdf versions of my short stories (linky <a href="http://tambowrites.blogspot.com/p/downloads.html" target="_blank">here</a>) plenty more have paid a buck apiece so I can donate that money to <a href="http://projectnightnight.org/" target="_blank">charity</a>. I've gone places and done things I never would have or could have done without writing the novels first. Made friends. Grew as a person. And on and on and on.<br />
<br />
It's a grand thing. Truly. But - ain't there always a 'but'? - I struggle all the time with money issues. Not the money itself - shit, it's only money - but with, well, the morality of it all, especially me, my demons, and getting paid to slap them onto the page.<br />
<br />
I listened to AFP's TED Talk misty eyed yet terrified because in some ways she's exactly like me, and in others totally opposite. I'm much closer aligned with Chuck overall, but I don't have his drive. I - through instinct or upbringing - find the concept of a KickStarter abhorrent. To me, it *is* like begging, but also slimy and untrustworthy, like the character Wimpy in the Popeye cartoon: I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today. My experience says, for most people, Tuesday never comes. Or it's like buying the 'mystery box', $30 value, for only $19.95. Yeah, the pile of lug nuts, disposable lighters, and clothesline rope might be worth $30, but if I don't need or want those things, you've swindled me out of twenty bucks.<br />
<br />
It's like paying up front for a home repair only to be left high and dry with your kitchen gutted, or sending money to some guy from Nigeria, or that ever popular deed to the Brooklyn Bridge. That's how kickstarter feels to me. Always. Skeevy and just plain wrong, especially since my own output is often flaky, especially near a project's beginning.<br />
<br />
That's not to say I haven't 'supported' a crowdfunding project or three - I have, for people I know, and only because I love them and want to help. I am a master at donations, got a PayPal button, count me in!!<br />
<br />
But is that the way to run a writing business?<br />
<br />
But, then again, when the pay is so craptastic and the chances of making a dime so low, why not? But what if the kickstarter doesn't produce the promised product? Or what if the project explodes and makes a crap-ton of money and everyone's thrilled? But it's gross and... <i>eeew</i>. But it's grasping the current social media fueled marketplace!<br />
<br />
Round and round we go.<br />
<br />
I don't write for the money, but it's nice when it comes. I fully intend to sell <b><i>SPORE</i></b> (under whatever title it ends up with) to a traditional publisher and I will do whatever I can to help it sell for enough to 'pay off' something. Anything. Shit, my Kohl's account even. I joke about Kohl's, but, still. The car. I'd <i>love</i> to pay off the car. Or my student loan (graduated owing more than I ever made in a single year as a graphic designer at a job I haven't worked in for a decade! Yay apparently endless student loan debt! Woot! You're awesome!!) Or even - gasp! - the house. OMG! Wouldn't that be amazing?!?<br />
<br />
But, see, the book is <i>done</i>. I'm selling something that's finished, not a slippery concept I'm passing around like a vaporous collection plate at a fundraiser. It's a real thing that actually exists right now. <i>Here it is! If you like it, make an offer! If you don't like it, that's cool, I'll schlep it across town for someone else to look at! Okthxbai! </i>Sale or not, I would have written it regardless. The money comes after, not before.<br />
<br />
Maybe that's my real problem with crowdfunding. Taking a bet the person on the other side will produce precisely what they promise to. Unlike the shady kitchen remodeler or the $20 bag of lighters and clothesline rope. Or me who still struggles to write the next Dubric book after seven freaking years.<br />
<br />
I have to admit I have considered sort-of crowdfunding <i><b>Stain of Corruption</b></i> (should I ever get past the tangle in the !*@&$^% middle) but can you even do that with something that's finished? <i>Hey, look, I have this thing and if you'd like to be one of the first to see - with maybe some special stuff tossed in before it's out for full release 2 months from now!! - here ya go, toss some coinage in my digital hat, okthxbai!</i> Shit, I dunno, I just do know I cannot fathom the regular crowdfunding way. At least not for me.<br />
<br />
I totally understand why folks do it, why it works, and why it's a good thing. I do, so please don't send me hate mail. I just can't get myself past the 'eew' factor.<br />
<br />
But, on the other side, I do give away the short stories and, frankly, I've given away gobs of books. I give away quilts. I share freely of my time and talents, which completely astounds and disgusts some people. I get that, too. We all have our quirks and requirements, I guess. We also have our own motivators and money is waaaaay down my list. In fact, it's likely to not even be on my list at all.<br />
<br />
And, maybe, that's where I fail. I am much more prone to giving than asking.<br />
<br />
So much to ponder as the marketplace - and distribution methods - rapidly change.<br />
<br />
So how about you? How do you feel about asking for the money?Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-4906282156866100692013-02-22T14:50:00.000-06:002013-02-22T14:50:15.448-06:00Ch-ch-ch-changes!Just wanted to give a quick update on SPORE.<br />
<br />
Things are going great!<br />
<br />
I've had some input from NY and I'm <b>very</b> pleased with the direction the book's taking. Most of the suggested changes have been minor (there's a setting issue, a deployment of the spores issue, stuff like that, and I even get to add another character!! OMG!! YAY!!!! Do you have any idea how HARD it is for me to write tightly cast books?!? I LOVE writing lots of characters!!) and while I have to admit I felt a momentary <i>'I'm not perfect! My book isn't perfect! Waaah!'</i> sting (frankly who <i>is</i> perfect? It certainly isn't me or my books! lol) I'm absolutely on board with all of it. In fact, I'm excited!<br />
<br />
Even including a <strike>potential</strike> likely title change.<br />
<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
There are a handful of reasons ranging from 'out here in the sticks I know jack-diddly about the market or what publishers are buying' to the knowledge that the book is really a product I create and my job is simply to <i>write the best product I can</i>, and all sorts of business-related reasons between. But the real reason is I know what few aspects of the book are <i>really, truly</i> important to <i><b>me</b></i>, and what grows behind Sean's house frankly isn't on that list. How the spores erupt isn't on that list. Even the title isn't on that list. Nope. Not even close. All of that stuff's just writer ego, and if I've learned anything it's to leave my ego at the door and do the damned job.<br />
<br />
I've discussed my vital needs for this book with my husband and a couple of close friends and, so far, those few things are still included in the book. They will remain included because one character relationship issue and two story concepts are absolutely vital to the story I want to tell. Yup, just three things.<br />
<br />
The rest is window dressing.<br />
<br />
I'm thankful that the agent seems to love those things too - yay!! - but, really, his suggestions and questions just mean more typing, more thinking, and more research. So what? Fix it, make the story the best, shiniest, most profitable product it can be. That is a writer's job, after all: to tell a damned good story.<br />
<br />
This weekend I'm researching ideas and brainstorming not only one more important character but a few other things that'll scuff off the remaining snags and make this book scream.<br />
<br />
I'm so excited! So thrilled!<br />
<br />
This is freaking awesome and I'm awed that it's going so well. {{hugs}}Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397210831094616038.post-26834357516444629012012-12-10T09:42:00.000-06:002012-12-10T09:42:13.277-06:00Let's meet Katarinne and OrianaHere's the opening scene for the 'other half' of the story in <i>Stain of Corruption</i>. It starts with Oriana and Katarinne during an incredibly pivotal point in the Mage War, 40 some years before the start of <i>Ghosts in the Snow</i>. :)<br />
<br />
(scene below the cut)<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<div class="Scenebreaks" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Pavlis, forty seven summers ago</b></i></div>
<div class="Scenebreaks">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Katarinne of Narles sat in the middle of a busy pub in Pavlis,
her back straight and her eyes closed, utterly unconcerned over the two young
men at the corner table oggling her and her friend. Drunk or not, lecherous or
not, they were immaterial, invisible, mere transparent shades in the quiet
sphere of her mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Magic, however, glowed from the generals meeting in the room
behind her, an intriguing pile of smallish items buried by an outhouse at a
farm on the far side of town, and from an armed rider rushing from the North.
And, of course, from Ori.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<i>Still all clear.</i> Katarinne sighed and opened her eyes. <i>But
couldn't we have met somewhere, anywhere, but a crappy old pub?</i> The stink
of cheap pipe smoke, frying fish, and old beer had only increased her nausea.
One hand fell to her glurgling belly as her friend, Oriana, finally returned
with a mug of water. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
She plunked down onto the bench beside Katarinne, back to the two
lechers, and handed over the mug before sipping her own beer. "You sure
you don't want me to get some mint leaves? I <i>know</i> I saw a patch by that
shed near the creek."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Katarinne braved a sip. "No. We both need to stay." Her
belly clenched as the water landed, but decided to hold its contents a little
longer. One of the fellas in the corner winked at her. She rolled her eyes and
looked aside. "It's too bad about Millien."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Yeah," Ori said before taking a deep draught of her
beer. "And Faie, and Birril, and Glerra."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"And all the others dead this past moon," Katarinne
sighed. With her eyes open, she let her gaze refocus and the tavern's front
wall faded to nothing, its patrons, the houses and shops outside... Nothing but
people moving through an empty void. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
She looked to her right and left, and saw no magic other than on
the rider, only a furlong or so away now. Magic always shone as beacons in an
otherwise transparent world, and using line-of-sight to <i>Seek</i> was as easy
as breathing. Full-sphere <i>Seeking</i> for more than a few moments, however,
often left an unpleasant tickle in her head. Thank the Goddess Ori had come to
watch behind; she didn't need a headache to go with the nausea. "You
clear?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Oriana leaned back, elbows on the table, and she stretched out
her legs as she took another sip. "Yup. Still just buried at the farm and
with the guys. Nothing else as far as the mind can see. Oh, geesh, Brushgoat's
upset about something again. Isn't that a surprise?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
She sighed, head falling back until her dark braid pooled on the
table, then turned her head to frown at Katarinne. "This is bullpiss and
you know it. They're in there planning the end stages of the war and we should
be part of the decision. Hells, each of us has killed more mages than all of
them put together." She nodded her head toward the rider dismounting
outside. "Including Siddael."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Can't," Katarinne replied around a burp. <i>Ah, relief!
</i>"We're common. They're Royal."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Oriana returned to watching the western arc and muttered around
her beer, "You mean they all have dicks and we have to piss sitting
down."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"I didn't say that."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Yeah, well, they'd be dead if it wasn't for us."
Without looking back, Oriana flung a furious salute at the door as a road-weary
nobleman limped in, coat speckled with sleet and bandages visible on his neck
and hands. Lord Marrick's dark gaze met Katarinne's and she nodded a returning
hello.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"He looks awful," Katarinne whispered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Still staring at the back wall, Oriana finished her beer.
"Yeah, I know. But Millen <i>died</i>, didn't she?" Siddael walked
past and Oriana called out, "She died saving an idiot's ass, didn't she, <i>Sir</i>?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Katarinne laid a quieting hand on her friend's arm. "Ori,
don't."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Siddael Marrick sighed and returned to face Ori. "Now is not
the time," he whispered. "You, of all mage killers, should know there
are risks--"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Nuobir bounces me all over the Goddess damned continent to
do you Royals' dirty work," Ori snapped, leaning forward and gesturing at
the closed meeting-room door. "I've saved every one of your asses Goddess
knows how many times, but no one could bother to send me to Deitrel to help
Millen? She was only fifteen and facing her first bone mage, and you all knew
it! With Reid! <i>Reid!</i> He can't even point his finger at a measly mind
mage follower without wearing a goddess damned diaper."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Ori," Katarinne whispered, watching the bar patrons
and their sudden, wide-eyed attention. The barkeeper flinched and struggled to
maintain a grip on the glass he'd been wiping. Katarinne let her right hand
fall to her dagger. <i>Dangit, Ori. Not here, not now. People are staring.</i>
"Shh. Please."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Oh, shush yourself. No one gives a piss what I'm
saying." She took a breath and snarled at Siddael, "They're <i>hunting</i>
us mage killers and none of you pegging cares. How the hells can you win this
war if we're all dead?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
The meeting room door burst open and Sett Nuobir, the King's High
Sage, rushed through, his homely, mashed face reddening. "We'll talk about
this later. Privately," he muttered, then Katarinne's vision blurred white
as he drew a sigil before his chest and muttered four lyrical syllables.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
The white rapidly faded, and, as Katarinne blinked past the last
wisps of brightness, she saw that the barkeep had returned to whistling while
wiping glasses and the lechers to their drunken leers, Oriana's outburst wiped
from their mundane minds.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
"Goddess-damn cowardly asswipes!" Ori called out to
Nuobir's hunched back. "We never talk about shit later!"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Nuobir merely followed Siddael to the meeting room and closed the
door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
Oriana cursed and stood. "I need a refill."<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Tammy Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00182229738140983779noreply@blogger.com1