Release Party and Giveaway - "The Dragon's Call" by K.W. McCabe

Just wanted to let you know about the upcoming release party for K.W. McCabe's novel "The Dragon's Call," on Friday, October 5th beginning at 4pm. Check out the official facebook event page for more info:

http://www.facebook.com/events/140672369410645/


Here's a little blurb about the book: In a thoughtless final act of destruction, humans awaken the one creature of legend they have no protection against. Years after the complete subjugation of the human race, Derek, heir of the Dragon Queen, and Cecily create a tentative friendship. But something or someone is stalking the human enclave. Cecily and Derek must find out who and why before she's next.

I couldn't wait to start reading, so I just bought a copy on Amazon. Want to win a free autographed copy? Entering this giveaway is oh-so easy: a Rafflecopter giveaway

my brief and bloody tour of political duty - summer of 2004

I have come to decide that most of us live two lives: the one that exists beyond each mouth and the one that exists somewhere behind it. That first world, the one where the sounds of our words do in fact fall on real, listening ears is one of constant edit; nipping and tucking. In protecting the longer future we water down the immediate reaction. Sometimes this bodes well for long term goals, and the censorship pays off. But sometimes it seems a mere beginning of the storms rolling in to toy with the boat of world number one. And as a bright-eyed, idealistic college junior, I headed into the sea of politics without a map or a compass. 

Four days into a hard-won internship at the Department of Education for a state that shall remain nameless, the Chief of Staff assigned me my first editorial. Only it wasn’t mine, it would be signed and therefore claimed by the Superintendent, and she had a whole lot more at stake than I did. So I contemplated this balance as I began outlining the editorial that covered a roundtable she’d hosted with a group of high school students from her state. The students had spoken with passion and zeal, demanding to know why their teachers weren’t paid enough and why they didn’t feel as challenged by their classes as they should have been. Now, I recognize that schools want to represent themselves well when sending students to meet an elected official, but I was immediately put off by the fact that this roundtable hardly represented any true student body. I would contest that over-achievers needs are different than their struggling peers, and to cater to one group alone starves the other. But as someone who was only there to take notes, I’d sat silently in the corner and jotted down the memorable questions and answers.

The next day I poured over their words and began developing my theme for the editorial. Now, obviously, I’ve never been elected to anything except for the editor’s position of my high school literary magazine, but I’d suffered through enough media campaigns to know that people were elected because of promises of change. With that in mind, I began crafting the students’ questions into one voice that spelled out the fact that the school systems needed help, and that there were two ways to do it: deal with the fact that higher taxes were necessary, or be smarter about the money already budgeted for the year. It challenged everyone from citizens to businesses to government to accept and rejoice in the responsibilities we all have in raising and educating today’s youth; and couldn’t we all agree that we all benefit from a society in which more members are prepared and productive?

As I finished my own editing I sat back and smiled at the screen, proud of my first piece, and proud that I felt like I’d really said something. My advisor read it and loved it too, and after gaining his approval I handed it off to the Chief of Staff for his review. Returning to the cubicle I shared with Jenny, an anal-retentive tree-hugging feminist, I relaxed for a moment and let the feeling of accomplishment soak in. She immediately began chattering on about some statistic that affected the ozone layer, and I nodded along, grinning like a fool, registering not a single word. I spun my chair around as I heard the chief approach (his hurried, heavy footsteps were very distinct) and smiled at him. But the happy-haze began to quickly burn away as I noted that no smile was coming to congratulate me. He slammed the paper down on my desk with his open hand spread across the draft that was marked from top to bottom in bright red.

“No, no, no!” he barked. I felt my back push hard against the chair, hoping it might open and hide me inside of it. “Have you lost your mind? This isn’t what I want at all. Did you read any of the samples from other writers?” he yelled. His cheeks were tinged with pink and a vein bulged above his right brow, filling out a couple of the lines on his too-young face. I shrank away from him as he dissected every word I’d been so proud of moments before. “And what the hell does this mean?” he exploded, pointing to a section I couldn’t see through the tears I was blinking back. Do not cry, I ordered myself. Not a single flipping drop. “Do you have any idea how many people this would piss off?” My fingers wrapped around the arms of my chair that had failed me as a hiding place. Somewhere behind my tongue I leapt up and met his fevered face with my own, raising my own hands and voice in protest.

“People elected her because of what she said she was going to change, not because they thought she wouldn’t piss anybody off,” I’d start, even and cool. “No one elects someone to ride the freaking fence. She’s here to lead, to help, and to make changes. Not everyone is going to like everything all the time. So if you’re not pissing anyone off it’s probably because you’re not doing anything at all. She got elected because of what she said she was going to do, not keep the same. She’s got four years to take a stand and follow through on the platform she was elected for, regardless of how it’s received. If she’s more worried about the next election than helping the schools then she’s a sorry excuse for a Superintendent. If she’s not pissing someone off then she’s not doing her job.” I’d finish, throw my papers in the air, storm out, and take the first flight back home. Instead, in the world beyond my tongue, I swallowed hard and tasted my own salt as he spun on his heel and left. I turned my chair slowly back to my desk and looked down at my bloody draft. The fact that Jenny wasn’t talking roared in my ears as I stared blankly ahead and tried to compose myself.

“He’s not usually like that,” Jenny said quietly as she placed her hand on my shoulder. As if she pushed some magic button I erupted into tears, weeping openly and bitterly in our cubicle. Ashamed, I looked up at Jenny through burning, drowning eyes and cried harder when I saw her own wet and shiny eyes, as if the recognition on her part that what just happened was really, really crappy validated my grief and made it easier to express.

We left early for lunch, and with no fore-mentioning, we didn't speak of the chief or the editorial. By the time we got back, I had myself back together and was ready to do my job: make the people of this nameless state love their Superintendent. As I put my bag down I glanced at the green post-it note stuck to the middle of my screen. “Check your email,” it said. I did, and found a brief, professional apology from the chief admitting he’d gone over-board, followed by an outline of how he thought the editorial should read. I shrugged to us both and began patting the students, the parents, and the Superintendent on the back as I redrafted the happy, shiny, fence-approved editorial.

On my final evaluation two months later, he noted to my internship advisor that I didn’t take criticism well, and that I should be more confident in my ability as a writer.  Eight years later I still mull over what those two comments together could possibly mean, and I still don’t have a flipping clue. But I did learn one thing. Okay, two. First: I do not belong in the world of politics. And second, there's nothing wrong with taking the edge off of sharp words, but there is something wrong with swallowing the truth.

 

p.s. Whether or not it would've rocked the proverbial boat, I still like the first draft of that infamous editorial much, much better.

Editing - part one

I have a really embarrassing secret to tell you. Before WiDo Publishing picked up my manuscript, I really had no idea how the "editing" part of the process went (wait for it, this wasn't the embarrassing part.) The only example I had to go on was an episode of Little House on the Prairie that I saw in third grade, where Laura sends her book off to a big New York publisher and the editor inserts the changes and sends it back for dear Laura's approval. Or something like that. Anyway, I really - really - (and please don't think less of me) thought that editors literally changed the story, and then sent it back to see what you thought of the changes they'd made. I know, right? Totally wrong. And I'm so glad that that's not how it works. Sidenote: I tried really hard to not run two "thats" concurrently and clearly failed. But I digress.

By the time I was querying WiDo and several other publishers, I was certain that my manuscript was as good as I could get it. And that's true. It was as good as I knew how to get it at the time, but it wasn't even close to a finished product. And then my editor sent me the first round of "overview" edits, and it was like a lightbulb went off, revealing not only the gaps in my pacing and plot, but also a sidekick to help me see how to fix them. I sent the revisions back to her a few days ago. Were they all for the better? Only time (and my editor) will tell. But I do know that the kind of writing she liked and said: do more of this, came easier. The changes she asked for made sense, and that helped educate me not only for these edits, but for future drafts. And I'm so glad that I was the one who sweated out those changes.

Even if you don't have an editor, find people you trust to review your work. You'd be amazed at who sees what holes. My husband even helped me rewrite the ending to my YA fantasy novel. A friend from high school helped me see through my muddled first draft to the key parts of the story. Another critique partner threw a stark raving looney fit when I tried to make a big change. And she was right. Make sure it's people you trust to be honest, and people who have your best interest at heart. And then be prepared for them to find things they want to see polished, because that really IS why you gave it to them in the first place, even if secretly you hoped they'd come back and say: don't change a thing! I'll admit it, I had a itty bitty baby hope every time I sent it to someone to critique and even when my editor read it for the first time that they'd declare it the best thing they'd ever seen. But thankfully they didn't say that. For starters, I'm glad I have friends who love me enough to tell it like it is. But even better: they care enough about the story to say: this part/dialogue/character/whatever needs some help.

And this is where I feel a need to plug my fantastic publisher. In re-reading that version of the manuscript that I sent them, I can see how much work it still needed, and it made it obvious to me that they believe in the story and in Tanzy just as much as I do. They took a huge chance on a brand new, unrepresented writer, and that's a source of inspiration for me to put in whatever it takes to bring this great story to life in the best possible way. I can't wait to share it with you :)

I'm kind of fangirling all over my editor right now. So I'll conclude by repeating what I tweeted upon receiving that first round of overview edits: there is no better education for a writer than an editor who believes in your story.

Review - My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century by Rachel Harris

Rachel Harris's debut novel "My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century" - or MSSSC as it's been dubbed in the social media stratosphere - was a huge departure for me in terms of what I normally read: dark, twisty, who's going to die before the curtain call kind of books. And I have to say, not only did I get caught up on some serious teen verbage, but I definitely enjoyed the carefree ride.

Description: (provided by Amazon.com) On the precipice of her sixteenth birthday, the last thing lone wolf Cat Crawford wants is an extravagant gala thrown by her bubbly soon-to-be stepmother and well-meaning father. So even though Cat knows the family's trip to Florence, Italy, is a peace offering, she embraces the magical city and all it offers. But when her curiosity leads her to an unusual gypsy tent, she exits . . . right into Renaissance Firenze. Thrust into the sixteenth century armed with only a backpack full of contraband future items, Cat joins up with her ancestors, the sweet Alessandra and protective Cipriano, and soon falls for the gorgeous aspiring artist Lorenzo. But when the much-older Niccolo starts sniffing around, Cat realizes that an unwanted birthday party is nothing compared to an unwanted suitor full of creeptastic amore. Can she find her way back to modern times before her Italian adventure turns into an Italian forever?

Characters: Cat Crawford is our time-traveling protagonist, and honestly was the character I had the hardest time getting to know. It took me a minute to make her take off her big, hollywood-style sunglasses and see what all was underneath. But as the secondary characters come to life around her, Cat truly begins to shine. I really enjoyed her interactions with her servant and with Alessandra. I think Alessandra's voice was definitely my favorite - and I heard that the anticipated sequel is going to be from Alessandra's point of view. Yay! Love-interest Lorenzo was a bit of a mystery to me. I like how he always watched Cat's back, but I'd like to see more from him in the sequel (at least i hope he'll make an encore performance.)

Plot: What surprised me about the plot was how easily Cat accepts that she's somehow been sent via gypsy voodoo back in time. There's very little panic. She assesses the situation, considers a couple of possibilities, and then rolls with it. I didn't expect the uptight Cat Crawford to suddenly become laid back about something pretty "frickin" major. But it's kind of nice that the author didn't spend a lot of time on the reaction and instead moved straight into the journey. The ending is a little more neat and tidy than I'm used to, with one great surprise at the end. However, there were so many characters at play that I'm grateful Rachel Harris decided to tie up most of the loose ends. There is one I'm very curious to see where she goes with it... and if you ever read this, Rachel Harris, I love and loathe that you left one very critical piece wide open.... I'm sure you know what I'm talking about :)

Voice: Rachel Harris does a fantastic job staying in the voice of Cat Crawford throughout the book. Not only does she create a very authentic feeling 16th century Italy, but it's very clear that we're experiencing it through Car Crawford's eyes. From her thoughts to the language in dialog to her goofs to the things she pays attention to, Rachel Harris stayed very true to character to the last page.

Setting: Just wanted to note how much research Rachel Harris must have done for this book. I loved all of the bits of history - like working in excellent references to how people at that time thought the Black Plague was spreading - and experiencing some of the cultural rights of passage, both pleasant and unpleasant.

In Conclusion: a strong 4 1/2 stars. There are a couple of angles that I wish were a touch more developed, but I'm totally hooked on the story and the characters, and am very interested to see where she takes the sequel "A Tale of Two Centuries," which is still in the works.

A pic in the life - my desk during deadlines

I am about 2/3 of the way through my first round of plot and big picture revisions, due to my fantastic editor this coming Monday. With two other jobs and a toddler, let's just say sleep and basic cleanliness have flown the coop.

(read between the lines: I'm totally stumped in a particular scene and I can't write my way out of it so I'm procrastinating... and noticing just how messy my desk is. I promise I'll get back to work as soon as I post this.)

Review - "Defiance" by C.J. Redwine - Five stars

This was a book that, after the second chapter i thought: I can't WAIT to review this book. It's not just an excellent story, but the writing is refreshingly talented. Sorry, I'm fangirling all over the place. Let me get organized.

Plot summary from CJ Redwine's blog (www.cjredwine.blogspot.com): Within the walls of Baalboden, beneath the shadow of the city’s brutal leader, Rachel Adams has a secret. While other girls sew dresses, host dinner parties, and obey their male Protectors, Rachel knows how to survive in the wilderness and deftly wield a sword. When her father, Jared, fails to return from a courier mission and is declared dead, the Commander assigns Rachel a new Protector, her father’s apprentice, Logan—the same boy Rachel declared her love for two years ago, and the same boy who handed her heart right back to her. Left with nothing but fierce belief in her father’s survival, Rachel decides to escape and find him herself. But treason against the Commander carries a heavy price, and what awaits her in the Wasteland could destroy her.

Story: what I liked most about the story is that protagonist and courier's daughter Rachel reacts 99% of the time like I would, which is so nice to read. She has authentic reactions and thoughts to things that happen to her. CJ Redwine also does an excellent job of having two different POVs with chapters being told either by Rachel or by love interest Logan. Each character had a very clear, distinctive voice, and moved the plot forward very well. Also, CJ Redwine went for broke - every time i thought: is she going to go there? She did. And how. This is not a light and fluffy happy ending read, so if you're of the faint of heart or get spooked at a little grit, this one might not be for you. But if you want one hell of a story that keeps you up til you finish it, then this is it.

Love: I found the relationship development between Rachel and Logan to be one of the best I've seen in YA novels to date. The dual-perspectives work really well, getting inside each of their minds and working through their doubts. It's fun to see the misunderstandings and the intentions that go quickly awry.

Writing: Author CJ Redwine has a vocabulary of words a rung above commonplace language, and uses them simply, sliding them into the sentences with ease. Loved this aspect of the writing. Her writing is also very visual, so the Dystopian world she creates is very easy to see and well developed.

Gripes: To be thorough, there were a couple of things that made me stumble every now and then. There's a big bad beasty that lives underground, dueling out fiery death whenever vibrations make it ornery. It's called "the cursed one," and while i started to accept the name towards the end, every time it came up in a sentence it took me a minute to move past it because I kept thinking of different things it could be called. It doesn't seem to cursed to me - seems like it's the one doing the cursing. Also, while the characters are most excellently developed, sometimes the emotional descriptions went a bit overboard for my taste. (Even though they were still supremely articulated.)

In conclusion: they better make this into a movie. And I can't wait for the sequel. A solid 5 stars.

Curses! - the use of "bad" words in YA novels

Now that our daughter is 18 months old, we've got to watch what we say down to the letter, because she makes a go of repeating anything and everything she can. One of my more frequented F words has been replaced with "foxtrot," and we say a lot of "seriously?" around here. Of course, I don't necessarily consider expletives the worst words there ever were. In our house, words like "fat," "stupid," and "retarded" evoke a much more fiery reaction than words I can't write here for fear my grandmother might read them.

But what about our young adult readers? To be fair, if an author aims to create a world that their teen fans can relate to, dialog is king. Gossip, chatter, lies, secrets, confessions - these kinds of things are what drive a teen novel. And expletives are now so commonplace it's cooler to abbreviate them that to use the whole word. Still, it bears mentioning that potty mouthed young protagonists may put off older readers in our potential crossover markets. And there are some that think bad language takes the integrity of the writing down a notch - and yet there are others that would argue if it's true to cause, a character cussing a blue streak would infact validate the integrity of said book.

Is there a right or a wrong answer here? Honestly, I'm not sure. But I do think it's most important to stay true to your characters. I'm drafting the sequel in the Tanzy Hightower fantasy series, and there's a point at which one of my characters realized another has set her up for an epic fail, and everything in me wants her to scream: "b#tch!" (sorry, Nana.) But I haven't used language in either book thus far, and to drop a word bomb might detract from the scene as a whole - not because it's a bad word, but because it's out of character for the novel itself. But in a YA fiction book I'm working on, one character is particularly crass, and no words are off limits for her. So my opinion is this: to thine own self be true, and no matter what words you decide to use, make them count.