Tag Archives: Self-Publishing

A Prequel Adventure

Before the first war in a thousand years, Sylvia Thorne was just a normal sixteen-year old girl, who happened to have one of the most dangerous jobs in the Four Cities.

Now that I wrote that above line, I’m convinced I need to add it to the description below…  Anyway, you get the idea.  You’re about to find out what Sylvia’s life was like before Meadowcity, before the war, in this upcoming short story (title TBA).  Check out the description, which might change right after I publish this post:

For a thousand years, the Four Cities of Arcera lived in peace behind their protective walls, while the lands between them turned wild and full of danger.  Only the few people willing to brave the wilds will step foot there, and Sylvia Thorne is one of them.
Sylvia is used to delivering messages between the cities for a living–and she will soon deliver the message that breaks the peace between the cities, but before that, she gets stuck in Lightcity, waiting for a package to deliver.
Her wait for adventure isn’t long, when she discovers that a young girl named Maddy has left the city–untrained in the ways of the wilds.
One of the youngest Riders in Arcera, Sylvia feels she must go after the girl and bring her safely back to her sister.
When Maddy brings them into one danger after another, desperate to find her missing parents, Sylvia must draw upon her training to protect the both of them.
But a wolf pack lurking about is acting strangely, and something seems very wrong in the wilds of Arcera.
….
What do you think?  Look for this prequel short story sometime in April or March, depending on how ambitious I am.

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Why I Went Indie (For Now)

While browsing through my email today, I saw a title from one of the many book/writing-related senders that I subscribe to.  It was titled something like “Want to be a writer? Do this…” 

What?  I am a writer.  I write.  Doesn’t the act of writing make me a writer?  I wrote a whole book.

But here’s where I am different than a surprising amount of people out there: I published it.

I didn’t stick it in a drawer because I thought it was terrible and no one would read it.  I didn’t put myself down, or tell myself I couldn’t be a real writer.  I didn’t spend hours crafting query letters, only to receive no response, or be declined.  I chose to self-publish.

*Gasp!*  But, isn’t that a lot of work?  you ask.

Yes, yes it is.  But I had a story burning a hole in my brain, and I needed to get it out to readers.

I tested it, of course, and took in feedback before I released it into the wilds.  And I learned many a lesson along the way (like, not to get too excited when uploading your book information to Amazon, because you WILL make a mistake).

But I am happy as my own publisher, for now.  It helps that I actually like formatting Word docs, and designing promo things in Photoshop, because every day I find there is something I need to do to market my next book, or promote the current title–in addition to all of that work it takes to write, edit, format and design both an eBook and paperback.  But I refuse to wallow in un-published land just because there is a stigma about self-publishing, or because it is hard.

Sylvia has grown on me.  She keeps pushing when she has nothing left to push.  She keeps going when no one else will.  And I will keep writing.

If some publisher takes an interest in my books, that’d be great.  Until then, I am happily on my own.

Young Adult- Let’s Get Rid of the Age Qualification

Yes, this is my bookshelf.  Kim Harrison and J.K. Rowling are awarded prime real estate.
Yes, this is my bookshelf. Kim Harrison and J.K. Rowling are awarded prime real estate.

Back in the day, when I first started buying books, I remember beelining for the “Young Adult” section of the store.  In the beginning, it was maybe one rack of books in the corner, or behind the “regular” fiction/literature section.  It was the place in the bookstore where I would read each title, examine each cover, and figure out which books I hadn’t yet read.  Essentially no other section in the store existed for me for a long time.

Even now I can still visualize the young adult section in several bookstores I frequented long ago, most in stores that no longer exist.

I thought, “Young Adult”, these are the books for me!  I am a young. adult.

Even now, in my {insert age here}’s, I am still considered a “young adult”.  And I wonder, when will I stop being a “young adult”?  I feel as if I have been a young adult for a very long time.  When do I become an old adult?

But I refuse to stop enjoying young adult books because I am no longer a teenager, and I don’t think anyone else should either.  YA books are not classified as such because they are watered down, less serious, or not as good as “regular” fiction.  The only qualifier I can see is that they generally feature a teen protagonist–a character who, more often than not, faces far more emotional, societal, or crazy dystopian struggles than traditional fiction.

Sure, I read my fair share of traditional fiction, but Young Adult will perhaps always be my favorite section of the bookstore, and it will always hold that magic for me.

Yes, YA has certainly been gaining popularity recently with the Hunger Games and Divergent series being converted into movies; but I feel it still carries a stigma, which is why when I talk about Meadowcity, I like to tell people that it is for ages 12 and up.  I don’t think people should stop enjoying a style of writing once they reach a certain age.

YA books are for the young, and the young at heart–something I hope to be for a long, long time.

“I see now that dismissing YA books because you’re not a young adult is a little bit like refusing to watch thrillers on the grounds that you’re not a policeman or a dangerous criminal, and as a consequence, I’ve discovered a previously ignored room at the back of the bookstore that’s filled with masterpieces I’ve never heard of.”

– Nick Hornby

When I am finally classified as an “old adult” you still won’t be able to pry Harry Potter from my stiff, arthritic fingers.