Friday, October 23, 2015
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
The Business of Writing: An Introduction (workshop description) #ASMSG #MFRWOrg
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| Der Gemeindeschreiber ("The Community Writer") by Gemälde von Albert Anker, 1874. Public domain (Wikimedia Commons). |
On 06/02/2015, I introduced The Business of Writing weekly feature on The Maze. Why?
To help fellow writers surfing the blogisphere, of course, but also as a means of collecting my thoughts because I had volunteered to present a workshop for folks wishing to dip their literary toes into the Indie Publishing pool.
This coming weekend—either Friday evening or (more likely) sometime Saturday; program details have not yet been released—I will be test-driving my Business of Writing workshop at Rising Star 2015 in Bluefield, WV.
Even more exciting is the prospect of presenting it again at Chessiecon 2015 (Baltimore, MD) at 4:15 p.m. on "Black Friday"—yep, the day after Thanksgiving! If all goes well, I may even be presenting it in 2016 at Marscon, Farpoint, and other events too.
Fans who have seen me on con panels know that my greatest strength as a public speaker is extemporizing. Even when called upon to deliver a lecture, I tend to jot down a list of topics and then speak as the spirit moves me.
Workshops (and this weekend's will be my first foray as a workshop presenter) I know operate a bit differently. Attendees tend to expect a formal presentation and handouts, at the very least, and perhaps more opportunities for interaction than a standard lecture affords. So, yes, my workshop will have a "formal" framework (and handouts!) covering the following topics:
- To Incorporate or Not Incorporate, that is the question.
- ISBNs – what, why, and how many???
- Imprints Demystified
- Book Production: DIY vs. Professional Providers for editing, layout, cover design
- The Main Event: Createspace vs. IngramSpark
I'll let you know how it goes... and better yet, I hope to see you there! :)
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...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Morning's Journey. Please enter often, and good luck!
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Meet the man destined to become Morgan le Fay's lover in RAGING SEA Ch 8/Sc 1a #amwriting
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| Graphic overlay (c)2015 by Kim Headlee. |
The fact that Morgan le Fay was never condemned in a formal trial for adultery, as Guinevere was, may also prove that Guinevere's story was rewritten by the descendants of her and Arthur's enemies.
We may never know, of course, which is why I prefer to be a novelist rather than an academic.
Although Morgan le Fay is reputed to have seduced many knights, including Lancelot, her favorite knight for most of her life was Sir Accolon. I have elected to preserve his name as-is in my fiction, though I gave him a more Celtic-sounding surname ("map Anwas"; i.e., son of Anwas). The relationship between Morghe and Accolon received the rockiest of starts in Morning's Journey when he came >< that close to killing her to complete a mission Urien had assigned him.
Today's excerpt shows an entirely different facet of how he feels about her.
Previous excerpts of Raging Sea
Raging Sea Chapter 8, Scene 1A
©2015 by Kim Headlee
All rights reserved.
ACCOLON map Anwas tugged at the hem of his bronze-studded battle tunic to dispel the rush of nervousness at the prospect of meeting the Pendragon garbed in anything other than a legion uniform.
It had been nigh unto a year since he had followed his longtime friend and commander to begin a new life as Urien’s chief adviser, a post which now included diplomat, the last bloody thing he’d ever expected. But it had given him ample opportunities to become accustomed to wearing the Clan Moray gold-crossed black cloak, rather than legion scarlet.
He caught himself giving his jerkin another tug, dropped his hand to his sword’s hilt, and chided his foolishness.
A pair of quick glances affirmed that the soldiers flanking him atop Dunadd’s gate tower either had not noticed the lapse or possessed wit enough not to react.
Drawing his cloak tighter to ward off the chilly April breeze that swooped in from the coast all too often at this time of year, heralding spring with a reminder that winter wasn’t quite done with the land, Accolon shifted his gaze to the farm-marbled distance and the approaching band, winding its way alongside the pale blue ribbon that was the River Add.
Neither cold nor distance could stem his reaction to the prospect of whom the Pendragon and his men were escorting to take up permanent residence here.
Tightening his jaw, he used the excuse of leaning against the platform’s rail to mask that reaction, damn her.
After everything Urien had endured because of another woman, Accolon would sooner eviscerate himself than jeopardize this relationship or the fragile peace it promised for everyone—except Accolon.
He stilled the grinding of his teeth.
As the minutes marched by and the band grew larger under his scrutiny, something seemed off. The group’s size was double what Arthur had said it would be. Accolon was about to send one of his men down to the main hall to alert Urien when a flash of white caught his eye. Squinting, he leaned farther forward.
“Sir? Is aught amiss?” asked Lucius, his second-in-command. It hadn’t been easy convincing Lucius to quit the legion, since he remained sympathetic toward the Pendragon, but it had been essential: Lucius had been privy to Urien’s deception during the cavalry games that had been staged for the Pendragon’s nuptials, and he needed to be kept close. Harder still was Accolon’s task to dissuade Urien from staging a convenient accident during the intervening months.
Accolon hated to waste otherwise good officer material.
He gazed at the man, who straightened and swallowed, as did everyone else in the guard contingent. “Were your scouts in error about the size of the Pendragon’s unit?”
“No, sir. Lady Morghe’s escort met up with another band of wedding guests yestermorn,” Lucius said, jutting his chin. “The guests that Chieftain Urien had ordered to be informed about directly.”
“Ah. Of course.” And Urien hadn’t seen fit to mention it to Accolon. No surprise there. The chieftain’s drumbeat was often a solitary one.
Thinking about those other guests revived yet more uncomfortable memories, and Accolon turned back toward the rail. The Scots’ white flag was unmistakable now, and he could see Arthur halfway back in the pack, distinguished by the brush on his helmet’s crest and the scarlet cloak billowing above the white flanks of his stallion.
That the men riding in a box formation surrounding the litters belonging to Lady Morghe, Chieftainess Ygraine, and Prioress Niniane were wearing blue cloaks rather than the standard legion scarlet, however, was a mystery that would have to wait.
“Permit them entry with only a token challenge,” he said to the guard captain, who acknowledged the command with a smart salute.
Upon ordering Lucius to accompany him, Accolon left the guard tower and prepared to welcome the woman slated on the morrow to become the wife of his best friend.
He derived a mote of comfort from the fact that Lucius had felt compelled to tug on his own battle-tunic too.
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...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Morning's Journey. Please enter often, and good luck!
Friday, October 16, 2015
Spotlight on Broken Pride by @DD_Chant #postapocalyptic romance
BOOK INFORMATION
TITLE – Broken Pride
SERIES – Broken City
AUTHOR – D.D. Chant
GENRE – Post-Apocalyptic Romance/Adventure
PUBLICATION DATE – 09/20/2015
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 115.600 words
PUBLISHER – Self Published
COVER ARTIST – Kate Lacy
SERIES – Broken City
AUTHOR – D.D. Chant
GENRE – Post-Apocalyptic Romance/Adventure
PUBLICATION DATE – 09/20/2015
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 115.600 words
PUBLISHER – Self Published
COVER ARTIST – Kate Lacy
BOOK SYNOPSIS
In a future filled with warring factions, one young woman must risk everything to be reunited with the man she loves.
Despised for the name she bears, and trapped behind enemy lines, she knows her life and the lives of those she loves rests on her choosing her allies wisely.
Yet, in a world where greed is rampant and only the strong survive, how can she find the courage to trust again?
BUY & TBR LINKS
EXCERPT
Suddenly he knew exactly what the next few minutes would bring.They find the first body slumped against the wall of one of the outer buildings. The young man, little more than a boy, is propped up at an awkward angle, his face frozen into an expression filled with so much fear that it was difficult to look at him.
And then there was more.
More bodies, more blood, more horror than Ryder can take in. He feels sick to his stomach and, for a few moments, he is a teenage boy again picking through the dead carcasses that had littered the Kelly compound.
He shakes his head, trying to bring his focus back to the present.
Bodies litter the streets and hang over thresholds. He blinks the sweat running into his eyes away, trying not to dwell on the death that surrounds him. He couldn’t think about the awfulness, about the fact that most of the dead were so young.
They break into the square, yet by then Ryder had known what they would find. Val swears and when Ryder looks across at him it is to find that his sardonic, ever smug half-brother looks like he is going to be sick.
“What the… how the hell did they do this?” Val splutters, lifting his hand to his head and looking around wildly. “How did the Lewises manage to do this? We were right here for goodness sake! How did we not know this was happening?”
Ryder doesn’t answer him. He had no answers, just the sickness that rolled around his stomach. Beside him Connell turns and vomits on to the ground. Ryder isn’t surprised to see one of the hard-bitten Andak soldiers displaying such weakness. He was pretty close to joining him in heaving out the contents of his own stomach. Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of a movement and lifts his gun warningly. Ian sits in the dust outside one of the hovels the Brownelys called homes. It takes Ryder a minute to realise that it was Ian’s house, the same one he had seen him standing in the doorway of yesterday.
He moves forward, ready to offer assistance. It wasn’t until he was much closer that he became aware of the fact that Ian clutched a lifeless body in his arms.
And then there was more.
More bodies, more blood, more horror than Ryder can take in. He feels sick to his stomach and, for a few moments, he is a teenage boy again picking through the dead carcasses that had littered the Kelly compound.
He shakes his head, trying to bring his focus back to the present.
Bodies litter the streets and hang over thresholds. He blinks the sweat running into his eyes away, trying not to dwell on the death that surrounds him. He couldn’t think about the awfulness, about the fact that most of the dead were so young.
They break into the square, yet by then Ryder had known what they would find. Val swears and when Ryder looks across at him it is to find that his sardonic, ever smug half-brother looks like he is going to be sick.
“What the… how the hell did they do this?” Val splutters, lifting his hand to his head and looking around wildly. “How did the Lewises manage to do this? We were right here for goodness sake! How did we not know this was happening?”
Ryder doesn’t answer him. He had no answers, just the sickness that rolled around his stomach. Beside him Connell turns and vomits on to the ground. Ryder isn’t surprised to see one of the hard-bitten Andak soldiers displaying such weakness. He was pretty close to joining him in heaving out the contents of his own stomach. Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of a movement and lifts his gun warningly. Ian sits in the dust outside one of the hovels the Brownelys called homes. It takes Ryder a minute to realise that it was Ian’s house, the same one he had seen him standing in the doorway of yesterday.
He moves forward, ready to offer assistance. It wasn’t until he was much closer that he became aware of the fact that Ian clutched a lifeless body in his arms.
AUTHOR BIO
Hi everyone,My name is DeeDee and I live in a beautiful part of Devon, England, with my family. I’ve always loved to read, and I’ve never been picky about which genre I read in. I’m just as happy curled up with a regency romance as I am with a dystopian adventure.
When I first wrote Broken City I had no idea that it would turn in to a series, but Deeta’s story begged to be told. So the stand alone Broken City became a trilogy, and now I know there will be a forth book as well.
I also write in other genres, I have a series of contemporary comedic short stores (The Claire series). I also have a historical romance series (The Lady Quill Chronicles), and a dystopian adventure series (The Chronicles of Discord).
I really hope that you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy writing them!
AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
| WEBSITE / BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOOGLE+ | GOODREADS | SHELFARI | BOOKLIKES
OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES
Book #1 – Broken City
Broken City is #FREE During the Duration of the Tour
BOOK SYNOPSIS
A girl with no futureBOOK SYNOPSIS
A man with no past
A little lost boy
And those who seek to find him....
....Welcome to Deeta's world.
Deeta Richards has never seen the outside world. Before she was born a banking crisis brought civilization to an end and now no one leaves the safety of the compounds unless they need to, but Deeta still dreams of seeing more than the building she was born in.
Tom is in the guard, this group are the only people that the tribal elders allow to leave the compound and Tom knows only too well that Deeta could never survive the harshness that exists outside. Then tragedy strikes and Deeta and her Sister Jan find themselves captured by a hostile tribe. Why does Tom know so much about these people? And why do they know so much about him? As this mystery draws to a climax, they discover that their friend Tom is not quite what he seems...
BUY LINKS
Book #2 – Broken Truce
BOOK SYNOPSIS
Life isn't turning out the way that Deeta thought it would. With the Lewises defeated and peace between the tribes, she had believed that the dark times were a thing of the past.
But troubles between the tribes continue, and the Andak council have selected Tom as their ambassador and spokesman to the other tribes.
Deeta knows that there is still much resentment against the Andak, and that Tom is in danger every time he leaves the safety of Andak City.
Struggling with her own complicated feelings against the tribe that she is now a part of, Deeta tries to ignore the changing attitudes growing within her.
But when Tom is betrayed and they are thrown into great danger, Deeta finds that reality can't be ignored forever...
BUY LINKS
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...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Morning's Journey. Please enter often, and good luck!
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
The Business of Writing: The Author Newsletter #ampromoting #ASMSG
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| Scholar sharpening a quill pen by Gerrit Dou. Public domain image via Wikimedia Commons. |
This was at the close of the millennium when traditional publishing was the norm, with a few small presses struggling to keep their doors open for love of the written word rather than the bottom line. As a traditional-published author, I was tied to my publisher's schedule and whims regarding whether they would reprint my novels, issue them in a different format, or exploit ancillary rights such as audiobook and foreign translations.
Sure, I could have reported news of book signings, lectures, and other personal appearances, but without the Really Big News to announce of another imminent release, I didn't really see the point of wasting all that postage.
With the advent of social media as an inexpensive tool for self promotion, of course, all of that has changed.
Beverly Bateman raises the question of "Do I or Don't I?" publish an author newsletter on Blogging With Beverly: http://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/2015/10/do-i-or-dont-i.html
Beverly's post was inspired by a podcast she had listened to for increasing email signups. The podcaster suggested the publication of weekly newsletters. You can read the comment I left on the article (along with everyone else's comments), but in a nutshell, I cannot envision myself ever sending weekly newsletters -- not due to lack of content because I have a lot more news to report these days with regard to the progress of audiobooks, graphic novels, and new releases -- but because I'd never get any new writing done!
I publish my newsletter The Dawnflier monthly, and thank you kindly for signing up!
If you still need convincing, or if you're convinced you want to start a newsletter but aren't sure where to begin, this article contains many excellent points about content and other considerations: http://www.amarketingexpert.com/how-your-newsletter-can-get-you-more-readers-visibility-and-sales/
One thing that article does not address is the email delivery service. My email server tends to get twitchy and lock me out if it sees me sending huge batches of emails. My original email server for newsletters was hosted by GoDaddy, but I've heard of this happening to Gmail accounts too.
That's why I bit the proverbial bullet a few months ago and started a list via MailChimp, the free version. If I ever get enough subscribers to necessitate paying for pro service, why that'll be a great day! But for now the free version does everything I need. There's a bit of a learning curve to figure out "campaign" (i.e., newsletter) design, but once I got over that hump and discovered the "save as template" option, subsequent newsletter designs have been a snap.
Whether you "Do or Don't" publish a periodic email newsletter is entirely up to you, but I've found that it's an excellent way to connect with members of my readership.
Happy writing--and newsletter-ing! :)
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...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Morning's Journey. Please enter often, and good luck!
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
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