I am nearing the end of my manuscript, otherwise known as my WIP (Work in progress). While I have written the epilog I still don’t know how it will end. I learn what
is going on as the story unfolds, kind of like the reader doesn’t know what happens until he/she reads the book, I do not know until I put the words on the paper. The only difference is I cannot flip to the back of the book to find out! This is frustrating as my “voices” have added in a new character, as well as a dog, and I have no idea where they are going with either of these. I can only do what has worked in the past, write what they tell me and trust that they know what they are doing!
Yes, I hear voices. Yes, I listen to them. Does that make me crazy? Maybe, but then again maybe if others listened to their voices they too could go in directions they never in their life imagined they’d go…
My advice to you, listen to your own voices. Step out of your comfort zone. Do what it is that makes you happy. I don’t know if we only have one life to live, or if we get to come back and do it again and again. But if, as some people say, we only have one life, then isn’t it best to live that life to the fullest? Wouldn’t it be better to look back on your life and say, “wow, I can’t believe I did that,” than to say “dang I sure wish I’d done
that.” Live for today for tomorrow may be too late…
Announcing a new way to “meet the author!” Check out my
new book club page on my authors website! http://www.sherryaburton.com/attention-book-clubs.html
I’m not sure if it is due to lack of sleep- I’ve not slept through the night in well over a week- or if the voices in my head are feeling the pull of spring, but I’ve been getting so many new ideas that I’m finding it hard to keep up. My current manuscript is speaking nonstop-not complaining there. The follow-up book to what I’m working on is so loud that, on more than one occasion I’ve had to stop and write a scene or chapter for that book, so much so that I have already wrote the epilog for the second book. Now after a
meeting with a friend in the business, my mind is racing with storyline ideas for several other manuscripts. Wouldn’t it be great if I could clone myself and dictate to each of the cloned me’s the story they need to be working on? Surely, if they were all cloned from me, they too would hear the voices. Maybe, I could make one of the cloned ones eat right and exercise. Of course-at least in my mind- that would benefit us all.
I may have to explain all the extra “me’s” to my hubby, but something tells me he wouldn’t complain much. Unless by chance we are all moody at the same time, to which he’d have to decide which one to console. Of course if he knows what is good for him
it had better be the “real” me as I am the “original” and also the one who would control the others.
For now, since there is only one of me, I guess I will end my ramblings and get back to work. The voices in my head are calling and at least one of me needs to answer the call…
Growing up I knew I was destined for greatness. I was going to be somebody. I was determined to sing on stage at The Grand Ole Opry. You see when I was young I thought I could sing pretty well. Of course I am sure
half the people who audition for American Idol think the same thing. The difference between them and I is I knew when my voice left and I moved on to other things, lots of other things, until I finally discovered that I am a story teller. Yes I am an author but I am a story teller first and foremost. I have been told that anyone can write but not everyone can tell a story.
As a writer it helps to have a vivid imagination. Everything is a story to me. I eavesdrop on conversations, not to be rude but to hear the stories. You see sometimes fact is better than fiction. I think my imagination is expanding as I become more and more involved in writing but looking back, even in my younger days as an aspiring singer, I would make up songs. I guess I’ve been a writer all along and just didn’t know it.
That got me to wondering is it possible that everyone’s destiny is predetermined? Is that knowledge just laying dormant waiting for each of us to find our course? Do we really get to choose or are our paths chosen for us?
What if you are not a person at all? Picture yourself as a tree growing in the forest aspiring to be the grandest tree of them all, then someone comes and cuts you down to make you a Christmas tree. Does that make you less of a tree or are you just reaching your destiny?
One year we bought our Christmas tree early in the season. It died and we and had to get a replacement tree. Seriously, how awful to not to be good enough to be a “real” Christmas tree. That had to be hard on that poor tree. This is how my mind thinks.
Now picture you are a pumpkin growing in a pumpkin patch and have aspirations of being a scary jack-o-lantern. You grow and grow to be the best looking pumpkin you can be and someone takes you home and makes soup out of you. Seriously, that would have to suck. It is thoughts like these that plagued me as I was picking out my own pumpkin last week knowing that I only wanted him for his seeds. I bought him five days ago. He is still on my kitchen counter. I haven’t had the heart to cut him open knowing I will be ending his dream of becoming a jack-o-lantern.
I was in the pet store today buying dog food. I was at the counter, ready to pay, when a guy walks in, obviously a regular. One of the ladies behind the counter said “rat?” He shook his head and waited patiently for the lady to scoop up a random rat, shove him unceremoniously into a box, and hand him to the guy. I am sure the rat was ecstatic. He was out of that aquarium. He was going to be Stuart Little to some child, as that is what he has always dreamed of. Little does he know his dream is going to be shattered the second he discovers it is his destiny to become snake food.
I asked the girl behind the counter. “Do you think when the rat was growing up he ever thought he was going to be snake food?” She laughed and said probably not. She tried to comfort me by having me look at all of the other rats joyfully playing on the metal wheel. I then asked her “How does it feel being the one who decides who’s the next to go?” By this time the second lady, who was trying to make a phone call, hangs up the phone, obviously deciding I am someone who needs watching. The first girl does not know how to answer my question and merely stares at me. I then decided it was time to relate my pumpkin story to her telling her how long it took me to pick out a pumpkin knowing I was dashing all hopes of it becoming a jack-o-lantern. As I left the building the younger lady was laughing and the second lady was staring at me in disbelief. I beat a hasty retreat but not before I had given them something to think about and probably debating whether or not to have me banned from the store. I hear voices. I worry about the feeling of inanimate objects. I am constantly seeing movies inside my head. I keep a tape recorder beside my bed. Some of my very best friends are fictional. I am not crazy, I am following
If you’ve read my work then you know I write mostly romance. Quirky romance that sometimes stretches the limits of romantic norm, but still they tend to fall into the romance category. Well this past weekend I
was fortunate enough to attend a writers conference.
Now this was no ordinary romance writers conference as I have attended in the past. This was the Writers Police Academy. A fun filled weekend of hands on training that is invaluable to writers who strive to hone their craft in all things criminal. The weekend was crammed with exciting lectures, guest speakers and realistic props, so that each writer could fill his or her senses with realism.
We were offered actual police training, albeit abbreviated, on the real goings on in everyday law enforcement, forensics, specialized investigations and courtrooms proceedings. Those lucky enough to be in attendance got treated to a simulated police chase, K-9 demonstrations, building searches, FATS (firearms training simulator) and so much more.
I got handcuffed, shot (thankfully they didn’t let us use real weapons), and got to try on the jacket and helmet they use to disable bombs. This was not as fun as it sounds as the jacket alone weighs in at nearly 100 pounds. The officer who helped me into the suit said it is said to weigh 80 lbs but he has it more around 100. After trying it on I have to agree with him, as all I could do was stand there like the little boy in A Christmas Story. I
was not able to put my arms down. Heck who am I kidding; I couldn’t move a single muscle. I half expected to float away like a helium balloon the second I was freed from the cumbersome jacket.
Upon leaving the exhibit I was asked by a lady in a golf cart if I’d like a ride down the hill, no thanks, I think I will just float down I thought. That feeling was short lived as I hurried to climb onboard before she changed her mind. I justified this ride by the fact that I had been taking the stairs at the hotel when time and strength allowed.
In the handcuffing demonstration I was the guinea pig, I mean suspect. Cpl Jackson, a former Marine and now tough as nails female police officer used me to demonstrate how to arrest someone. After being in the cuffs only moments I was pleased that I had not chosen a life of crime. Being handcuffed is not all it is cracked up to be. Before any of my readers e-mail me to educate me in the pleasures of being handcuffed, let me remind you these were real police grade handcuffs, not padded leopard cuffs. :)
After I was handcuffed, everyone was invited up to see how the cuffs should look when on properly. I was released and we all got to take turns handcuffing each other. Partnered with author Alexandra Sokoloff, I handcuffed her hands securely behind her back, or so I thought. Within seconds she was able to maneuver her legs through her arms so that her hands were now resting more comfortably in front of her body. While
this is something that most people would not be able to do, Alex was able to bring her arms to the front with little more than a tender wrist and broken fingernail. Luckily for me I was not a real cop, with a real gun. One she could have easily taken from me, had I thought her arms still securely behind her. We were told this was the reason they stopped using the chain handcuffs, instead switching to the unforgiving hinged cuff which is impossible to maneuver to the front.
While some may think experiences such as these simply a perk of the job, I can attest that hands on scenarios help to heighten the creativity, moreover they help writers to get it right!
While I had a blast, my voices must have enjoyed the experience as well, as they have been talking nonstop since returning home. For me this unexpected journey has opened new doors and taken me in a whole new direction. It has shown me that every now and then a person must step outside their comfort zone and see what life has to offer. I am sure glad I did as I feel this was only the beginning for me!
Make sure to go my pictures gallery to see more pictures from the weekend.
I’ve decided to give a bit of background on my journey to becoming published.
First let me say that my editor has told me that the reason I can write is because I am a
natural story teller. I come up with an idea and let the voices lead me along the road to completion. She has also told me that the reason I can knock so many storylines out so quickly is because I do not know what I’m doing. Let me explain: unlike most in the writing field, it was not always my goal to become a writer. Sure I dabbled in poetry, wrote letters and even wrote some newsletters for several volunteer organizations I was involved in, but that is really as far as it went.
One day out of the blue I told a friend, who was not in a happy place, that I was going to write her a happy ending. What I thought would be a short story soon took on a life of its own and Amber’s Eyes, which was the “working” title to Tears of Betrayal was born. While I knew I needed help in the punctuation department I felt it was a really good story. It was the first time I thought “wow; I need to see about getting this published.” That leap from writing to being published took me twelve years!
I tried to find friends to edit it (please do not do this) and I even hired an editor (off of Craig’s list who took my money and never edited the novel, so please DO NOT do that either!) I also contacted a real editor who told me I would need to edit my book before she could edit it.
She told me I was a natural story teller but I needed help with the sentence structure and mechanics. I was then really confused, wasn’t this what editors do?
I finally decided I would self publish my book but how could I self publish a book when I didn’t have an editor? The last thing I wanted to do was send an unedited manuscript out into the world. It was all so very frustrating. My prayers were finally answered when I found my publisher, Koehler Books. Not only did they do traditional books but they also offered a
publishing package. Some people refer to this as vanity publishing; I call it an answer to a prayer. If I was going to spend the money to publish it anyway, why not use that money and have someone who knew what they were doing do it for me? Not only that, but in the process I would get to work with a “real” editor and have a “real” book.
While few in the industry condone this, I am not the least bit sorry that I took this route. In the process of getting published I was able to meet and work with Michelle Johnson, a wonderful editor whom I still work with to this very day. I hired Michelle to edit my second novel, The Scars Between Us, and after doing so, the novel was picked up by Koehler Books as a traditional book deal with no cost to me.
Michelle has also edited two of my children’s books, the first of which is due out next month and she and I are currently working on the revisions of my third novel.
I am a good story teller. I have wonderful muses. I have six manuscripts in various stages of completion, with ideas for at least as many more beyond that. I also know I am still learning my craft and that I need to work with an editor to help me polish it to where my audience will enjoy reading it without picking it apart. I am grateful to John Koehler for giving me my start. I am also grateful for Michelle Johnson and her continued patience. She is a wonderful editor and a great teacher and I am so lucky to have found her and in finding the right editor for me I was able to move from “self published” to “traditionally published”.
As a published author, I can honestly say I have never worked so hard in my life. But, I can also say I have never been happier. I am still learning and I am still writing, my journey has only begun!
Original Post Feb. 17, 2012
My second book, The Scars Between Us, is now out and available to purchase. The write up on the book cover tells about Elizabeth’s Secret. It tells of her five year dedication- waiting for her late husband to keep his pledge. The one he made when he promised to come back from the grave. The cover also introduces Joseph and warns that he has a secret of his own.
But while the cover is interesting there was simply not enough room on the back to tell you about what else awaits the reader. Little things that I feel are just as important as the love story within. So please bear with me for a few moments while I have a mini Oscar moment and tell you the story would not be the same without the supporting cast of people and places within the book.
What the cover doesn’t say is that the book is set in the charming New England town of Westerly RI. Westerly is a real town, that is nestled alongside the Pawcatuck River and is loaded with charm.
The cover does not tell you that a great deal of the story takes place in The Ocean House Hotel, a dramatic landmark in the quaint village of Watch Hill.
It does not tell you that Elizabeth Maynes suffers with celiac disease, a connection that helps her to become fast friends with her newest client Sylvia Carmichael-Davenport, a quirky socialite with a quick wit and a very active imagination.
It does not tell you the caretaker of the cemetery Zachariah Odell Davidson, ZOD, is a retired Navy Master Chief who has an answer for everything and always has a story to tell.
While the premise of the book is serious, the storyline is anything but. The quirkiness of the supporting characters will keep you smiling and even laughing out loud on occasion.
So why not take a literally trip to the quaint town of Westerly RI, meet the supporting cast and spend some time getting to know the quirky characters within the pages… Take a relaxing walk through River Bend Cemetery. Stop to smell the honeysuckle and watch as the osprey soars overhead, I’m sure you will enjoy your stay!
Original Post Feb. 3, 2012 I currently have six manuscripts in various stages of completion and ideas for at least six beyond that. When one of my manuscripts speaks to me that is the one I work on. I will do this until one takes the lead, pushes to the forefront and demands to be next. At this point it seems as though my Kentucky book will be next as it is the one that keeps letting itself be heard. It is a quirky romantic comedy with an Elvis impersonator and a clown. The problem is the clown is not really into Elvis and my Elvis impersonator is afraid of clowns. They just met for the first time and I am looking forward to seeing what happens after the initial meeting because at this point I really don’t have a clue. I do not know what it will be that will finally make them fall in love. I only know that it will happen. It has to happen. It is a romance after all…
I am sure there are writers out there that would balk at my not having a story board. Of not knowing what happens from start to finish and in every chapter in-between. I have tried writing like that and each time the story has deviated way off the path, not coming anywhere close to what I had outlined. I figure this is bigger than me and that whoever is guiding me knows what they are doing. It has worked thus far, so I am going to wait and see what happens. I find it exciting to learn what happens as I go. It always amazes me when I find out something about a character that I did not know. It is much like discovering a secret the character had kept hidden until that very moment.
Sure I have certain ideas that flash in my mind, and play out like a movie (yes that is cool), but I never know when I am expected to insert them into the story until it is time. That happened in yesterday’s chapter. I thought it was going to go in one direction and was trying to figure out how to get there. All of the sudden it took a left turn and went someplace that I was surprised to see it go. The best part is when it gets there it usually makes perfect sense, making me wonder why I did not think of that.
Did that last line confuse you? It probably did if you have not read any of my blogs in the past. You see, I firmly believe that I have help when it comes to writing. That is the only explanation I have for this gift I have been given. It explains why I do not know things until I put them on paper. It explains why sometimes my books do not sound like me. Why a word that I have never used or in some cases have never even heard will appear out of the blue to be used at that particular time. Most of the time I do not know what the word means and in some cases I have no idea how to spell it, yet I know that it is the perfect word to use that that specific time.
I have told this to my husband many times and at first he did not understand. Then after my first novel came out and he finally read it-yes he waits until after the release to read them- he then looked at me and told me he finally understood. He said “I am reading this book and all the while I think… there is no-way you wrote this. You don’t talk like this. You don’t use words like this.” I just smile, and say see, I told you so!
Have a great week, and if you get the chance, pick up a copy of my newest book, The Scars Between Us. My guides really, hit the ball out of the park on this one. And as you can tell my editor does not edit my blog posts, because I assure you if she did, she would have totally crossed off that last cliché!
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Reader Comments (1) Hahaha! Sometimes cliches work - and in this case I would have left it in. Though I might have shifted a few commas here and there. ;)
February 3, 2012 | Michelle L. Johnson
Original post Jan. 26, 2012
This has been another week of wonderful things for me. On Monday I was on the phone with my publisher when he received a package. It turns out the package was none other than the proof for my novel, The Scars Between us! We quickly made arraignments for us to meet so that I could pick up the proof and start my final read through.
We met at the café in Barnes & Nobel in Chesapeake. It was exciting seeing my book for the first time. The blue was brilliant! My name stood out boldly and, my words were all nestled snuggly inside. It was a very proud “mom” moment. I felt the same when I first saw the proof for Tears of Betrayal. To see something you have worked so hard on come to life is simply …amazing!
As my publisher and I were leaving the store I had another one of those moments. You see I am scheduled for a book signing in that same store on Feb. 4th and right there in the front vestibule was a huge poster with my name on it along with a picture of the cover of my book. There was a small table in front of the poster with several of my books displayed for all to see. It was all very surreal. My quick thinking publisher, John, placed the proof for my new book on the stand in front of the poster and then snapped my picture. I must say that, in my opinion, both books look very nice sitting next to each other. (You can see the picture in the picture section here on my website.)
It was funny because my next stop was at the doctor for an appointment. When I went into the room the nurse stated that she would take my vitals last as she thought it best to let my blood pressure settle down a bit before she checked it. I am happy to report it was well within the normal range when she finally took it.
One of the strongest reactions I get from people who find out I am an author is, “how can you do it.” More than one person has wondered at the fact that my mind allows me to not only come up with a storyline but to have what it takes to actually put that story on paper, and have it make sense. The funny thing is, I understand what they are saying. I also marvel at the fact that I can do this. It amazes me of the gift I have been given and yes I do understand and agree that it is a gift, so much in fact that during the course of my read through, when I was reading and very much enjoying the book, my book. I wanted to pinch myself just to make sure it was not a dream. Then I realized it is a dream, a dream come true!
Original Post Jan. 6, 2012
A year ago I was still hoping that someday I would be published, yet this week I signed the contract for my second manuscript, The Scars Between Us. Let me stress once more that this is NOT the sequel to Tears of Betrayal. The Scars Between Us, stands on its own merit.
When we lived in New England, after having been swindled by a editor, who I trust karma will catch up with, I was frustrated at the fact that I was no closer to having my manuscript published. I started reading everything I could find on getting published.
One such book was an anthology from published authors who told of their tales. More than one of them stated that while they did not have any luck on their first manuscript, they were able to get their second or third manuscript published. Well that sounded easy enough, all I had to do was write another book. I mean I had written one, how hard could it be to write another? In case you have not figured it out by now that pretty much sums up my personality, I get an idea and I run with it. Jump into the deep end of the pool, sink or swim kind of mentality. Okay I had better get back on tract here or my editor will send me a e-mail about the excessive use of clichés. Not that she edits my blog mind you. No, I am afraid I am on my own for that.
So now that I had decided to write another book I had to figure out what to write about. My first thought was to finish a drama that I had started a few years back. I started to work on that but soon found my mind drifting. I would walk the River Bend Cemetery, which was close to our condo in Westerly RI, and my mind would take off. One day while walking I got the inspiration to write a story based on a poem I had written nearly twenty years ago. So it began that the story, then titled Somewhere in my Dreams, came to life. I would carry a small tape recorder with me and the story would just flow every time I set foot in the cemetery, which is fitting beings a good deal of the story takes place in that same cemetery.
A part of me was afraid to attempt to write a second manuscript. I was not sure if I could give the characters their own voice or if they would sound like the same characters from the first book. I mean I didn’t even know I could write a novel until I wrote the first one, was I so pompous that I actually thought I could do it again. Yet, there I was taking the plunge.
As it was, I found that just like my first manuscript, the story wrote itself. It leapt onto the pages over a span of three months, demanding to be heard, waking me up in the wee hours of the night until it told me it was finished. That was late summer 2010 and now in just a few short weeks it will be in print, under the new title The Scars Between Us, for all to read. Only instead of being my first book it will rightly take its place beside its predecessor, Tears Of Betrayal. Even though I wrote this one to take the lead I could not follow through with that intention. Tears, as it is affectionately referred, was my first. My baby, and as any parent knows you just can’t give up on your baby.
It amazes me how one’s life can change in such a short time. Just five short months ago I was hoping to get published, someday. And yet here I am, on the verge of seeing my second manuscript released. I have signed a contract for a traditional book deal with Koehler Books. I have made the transition from writer to author. My “day job” consist of writing, researching, networking, promoting, and numerous other things that are now required of me. I am very happy and I’m doing “work” I truly love! Sometimes life turns out better than imagined…