tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58832834828245821382024-03-20T20:36:02.576-07:00The Ransom SeriesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-44678419182116232552017-01-06T12:45:00.000-08:002017-01-06T12:45:03.087-08:00January Status Update<i>Happy New Year!</i><br />
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I hope these past six days of 2017 have been everything you hoped for. If you are a resolutioner, you can do it! (Whatever it is that has made your list this year.) If you don't make resolutions, the pressure's off! It's all downhill from here.<br />
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I'm personally excited about the upcoming year because I've got some fun projects lined up for myself. I'm not ready to say what they are just yet, but my hope is that they will, eventually, bring a smile to someone's face. That's pretty much my hope for any project I work on.<br />
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I've got plans for the blog this year as well, and I'm looking forward to (hopefully) helping it find some sort of identity. It's never a bad thing to know who you are or what you're about.<br />
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My "January Status Update" is that I'm happily writing, drawing, and creating over here. There is even talk of a <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rise-Seer-Ransom-C-Autry/dp/1517417473" target="_blank">Rise of the Seer</a> </i>birthday party in the works. Who doesn't love a party? (Me...because of the introvert/safety bubble thing. But I'm willing to make that bubble smaller for a day if it means seeing friendly faces and getting to hear new stories.) This guy is definitely ready to party:<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/AVvXsEiEhA0X8kkWjVieM1U1Grr86ax4u1nRa2xWY24MSeHMc4t43FovOuH_AEHNKpp53NWfX_iCP7_DRMqauAp9tZloifyCXYSiKUhY4vA8RTPNQG7_pPJqq5u0j1Cp3xdQPqF8caa_n3PC_kI/s1600/image1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhA0X8kkWjVieM1U1Grr86ax4u1nRa2xWY24MSeHMc4t43FovOuH_AEHNKpp53NWfX_iCP7_DRMqauAp9tZloifyCXYSiKUhY4vA8RTPNQG7_pPJqq5u0j1Cp3xdQPqF8caa_n3PC_kI/s320/image1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His name is Howard. I hope you see more of him this year. </td></tr>
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I do hope that this will be a good year for you. Hold fast to that optimism and sense of a fresh start that January 1 can bring. There are good days ahead, my friends.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-11421844093303666632016-12-09T14:08:00.000-08:002016-12-09T14:08:11.742-08:00Ch-ch-changes Ahead<div class="MsoNormal">
Who needs a break? Show of hands. I had to drop mine back
down to the keys so I could finish typing. Also, I would like to point out that
I looked up pictures for “changes” to accompany my post and this is what popped
up:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboBVgjekXEDFtGWmN6ZAhmtxEG9PJf_uMBqAk4-Bl1OIwHlOIiaHJ47d5sMp5OBBbZuAVl8iGEiDLHDh_hhd3aEOU3wgpcP_Y5TnKhYLDCpgGXz3QK6y1R1mwPSF-YQSQbJGTHrGfIJ8/s1600/canstockphoto23931708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboBVgjekXEDFtGWmN6ZAhmtxEG9PJf_uMBqAk4-Bl1OIwHlOIiaHJ47d5sMp5OBBbZuAVl8iGEiDLHDh_hhd3aEOU3wgpcP_Y5TnKhYLDCpgGXz3QK6y1R1mwPSF-YQSQbJGTHrGfIJ8/s320/canstockphoto23931708.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Interpret as you will.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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There were also pics of people changing light bulbs. If you
want me to add one of those, just let me know and I can make that happen for
you. For the record, I use CanStockPhoto and there is never a shortage of
material. But that’s not what this blog post is about.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I stepped away from the nation of Facebook for a little bit
and it was one of the very best things I have done for myself lately. I’m an
indie author, which means I’m also a small business owner. That was never, <i>ever, ever, ever</i>, on my radar. For
almost three years now I’ve had to figure out how to promote my books and get
myself out there because…I’m it. There isn’t a marketing department or big publishing
company behind me to help with anything. Unless you count these guys:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OWrFfI6aCyhRmSNYlFQ7CBvHjqPAfU1-twVjpkxZPpMtSZ6r23K3oEimracjVMaPtF-jryPPv7z_evdNzwkm5a65w01vaAttMNJRTzyhT-l0Aq9UdKCC6McE7OGHNlQcwGMIcVRg9mU/s1600/the+fellas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OWrFfI6aCyhRmSNYlFQ7CBvHjqPAfU1-twVjpkxZPpMtSZ6r23K3oEimracjVMaPtF-jryPPv7z_evdNzwkm5a65w01vaAttMNJRTzyhT-l0Aq9UdKCC6McE7OGHNlQcwGMIcVRg9mU/s320/the+fellas.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
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I enrolled in
webinars and conference calls to help get a better idea of what on earth I
should be doing. I came across some helpful people and ideas, and some who
weren’t so helpful. For the most part, there’s a similar business model that
they abide by to help businesses gain more exposure. It involves posting on
Facebook just about every hour, or at the very least, a certain amount of times
per day. There are also specific types of posts to post at those various times.
Post, post, post. Honestly this does work if you’re willing to follow that
model…and if you have enough time to devote to putting together content for
every. single. post. There are people whose sole responsibility is to manage social
media presence. I tried asking one of the squirrels to take care of that for
me, but every potential post revolved around acorns or tips for evading
mockingbird attacks. Interesting if you’re a squirrel, but for a human? Not so
much.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It certainly doesn’t help matters that I’m a socially
awkward introvert. I don’t say this in a disparaging way, but one of
acceptance. I understand that if you initiate a conversation with me before I’m
ready, I won’t have complete control of what pops out of my mouth. I also have
problems not doling out inadvertent fist bumps.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>All of that to say…</i>I
struggle with engaging an audience. It’s not at all that I don’t want to hear
from you, it’s that I honestly don’t know how to get the ball rolling on
conversations because it is so far outside my comfort zone. I drew a diagram in
case you need a visual:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-w11PSR0Gxcg8V7n1R6TUDYYlym7manY9e13MpZhhlDnvI57egGtWmHic-Vsz7bQdKSF3XcZqvYNpTPhEmubh9YHCVkgzSUNQSo3s__jLfSGrmde-MnGGcxYg27jt-IoEV4PAPm5y_So/s1600/My+Comfort+Zone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-w11PSR0Gxcg8V7n1R6TUDYYlym7manY9e13MpZhhlDnvI57egGtWmHic-Vsz7bQdKSF3XcZqvYNpTPhEmubh9YHCVkgzSUNQSo3s__jLfSGrmde-MnGGcxYg27jt-IoEV4PAPm5y_So/s320/My+Comfort+Zone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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What it all came down to was focusing more on the business/marketing/social
media side of things than actually engaging in the creative process. Most days
I just ended up feeling frustrated with my meager accomplishments and pitiful
attempts at writing something worth reading. When I realized that Facebook was
sapping my creative drive, I knew a break was needed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So what happened when I stepped away from the screen and
business side of things? I felt the pressure dissipate and got back to creating
again. <i>It’s been wonderful.</i> I’m not saying
Facebook is bad or something I won’t use. It’s too convenient for building a community.
I am saying that some of us have more difficulties than others with the whole
concept of social media and putting ourselves out there. Sometimes we just need
a minute to regroup.<o:p></o:p></div>
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To sum things up, I’m still stepping away a little longer. I’m
also writing, rebuilding, and trying new avenues to tell stories. I'll have some exciting news to share soon!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-80160523870108181522016-11-04T11:00:00.000-07:002016-11-04T11:01:53.475-07:00Freestyle Friday: GuntherSometimes my heart feels a little lost and my sense of direction gets trapped inside a brown paper bag. That paper bag is on the shelf of an old gas station that will not accept credit or debit cards. The Doritos are stale, but the beer is ice cold. And Gunther works the counter where he supplements his meager paycheck with an ever steady stream of dry roasted peanuts. He gave up the daily jelly beans because he read somewhere that peanuts were better for his health. If you ask him, he won't be able to recall where he gathered that information, but he does remember that he read it in the waiting room at Doc Kimmel's office when he went in to see her about his sore toe. The jelly beans still call to him and he doesn't regret one bit that on Friday afternoons he celebrates life with a packet of the colorful confections. He always picks out the sour apples because he has a fierce sense of loyalty to classic flavors. Cherry, grape, orange...these are acceptable. Lemon pushes the envelope, and peach is just not done.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA0ERFVJTmkZcmHikASFns_h1qWEe80zTEkJczOqz_HwzkpuZMlHgukiNZ6AZkOyA7h9Teu-aue4pSP5fDc0ToklN1uRIpzZaIUo9ucFUQezplUxppAIUnfnpur3PV0jFXRMpQqB0d8uw/s1600/gas+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA0ERFVJTmkZcmHikASFns_h1qWEe80zTEkJczOqz_HwzkpuZMlHgukiNZ6AZkOyA7h9Teu-aue4pSP5fDc0ToklN1uRIpzZaIUo9ucFUQezplUxppAIUnfnpur3PV0jFXRMpQqB0d8uw/s320/gas+station.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-14147349633532395052016-09-28T11:44:00.000-07:002016-09-28T11:44:48.513-07:00Gathering Ducks<div class="MsoNormal">
I like ducks. Look at these little guys and tell me you didn’t
at least <i>think</i> about cracking a
smile.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQJ8m5CWcMSOhClLZxX1YKGdngrMRQcf2_l_YuxWmB4oRVpjlDqDIGo3yxNCMclSVOxdsTNu-m4jF2tUpjgigBUpsK3qYD2C2HhMEgVUqGoNKuqNlS_4Fgo9IfggyzihXWSaF3XxXCEk/s1600/canstockphoto3948916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQJ8m5CWcMSOhClLZxX1YKGdngrMRQcf2_l_YuxWmB4oRVpjlDqDIGo3yxNCMclSVOxdsTNu-m4jF2tUpjgigBUpsK3qYD2C2HhMEgVUqGoNKuqNlS_4Fgo9IfggyzihXWSaF3XxXCEk/s320/canstockphoto3948916.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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What do you think they’re talking about? Maybe how good the
fishing is? What are the best products to maintain their excellent coifs? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Check out this snazzy little thing:<o:p></o:p></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/AVvXsEh1zznDPaJqiGA5HlGo9k47xEefqiAamXoLQ6nF3jYTAlLCuCrrQE-WQl2yWqem-Kve9ySkRf5kglDcVPiDEFs4GnsiuaUyOEEZL11MDd8V7jXXdlVHfAp8bAUmCxwWkcr8cyyLrf8ksco/s1600/IMG_3542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zznDPaJqiGA5HlGo9k47xEefqiAamXoLQ6nF3jYTAlLCuCrrQE-WQl2yWqem-Kve9ySkRf5kglDcVPiDEFs4GnsiuaUyOEEZL11MDd8V7jXXdlVHfAp8bAUmCxwWkcr8cyyLrf8ksco/s1600/IMG_3542.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Rex for snapping this.<br /></td></tr>
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Pretty incredible. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Ducks really don’t have much to do with this post, other
than me giving the fleeting statement that I like for my ducks to be in a row.
(Metaphorical ducks, not actual ducks. I don’t want to control wildlife. I’m
team nature.) Right now my metaphorical ducks are hanging out all over the
pond, just being ducks. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The ducks I’m referring to are story ideas, projects, and
dreams. I’m basically trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Because I’m certainly not there yet. Heck, I’ve been sleeping in dragon pajamas
for the past three nights.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m not even kidding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m trying to figure out what I <i>really </i>want to do and where I need to focus my attention. The
Ransom Series will always hold a special place in my heart. But it isn’t, and
never has been, the only project I want to work on. Honestly, I’m struggling to
write book three, <i>Reign of the Judges</i>.
Supernatural fiction and fantasy require intense creative stamina. I guess that
little duck is on the far side of the pond right now. While he is over there
exploring the reeds and hanging out with turtles, I’m just going to spend my
time with the ducks that aren’t so aloof. I can’t say at the moment what those
ducks are, but they are currently making me happy and stretching me to dream
bigger.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I think sometimes it's freeing to admit that we don't know what the next step is. I don't have to have everything figured out and plan every single aspect of the journey. The only thing I'm certain of is that whatever I do, I want to use my platform and my voice to remind you that you are awesome. I want to cultivate a sense of community where you can know that you're important. That you are valuable. I honestly don't care if it sounds cheesy or sappy. There is too much negativity out there and if a picture of me in my current favorite pjs can put a smile on your face, so be it. If I can throw a happy quote, a wish for a good morning, or pleasant thought your way, I want to do it. </div>
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<b><i>Because I believe we are all here for a reason. </i></b></div>
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<b><i>And we are all in this together. </i></b></div>
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Having everyone know their worth is more important than any story I could ever write.</div>
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Now, if anyone needs me, I'll be wading into the pond and seeing which ducks have a hankering for some Autry toes.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-40068050347155671932016-06-01T09:39:00.000-07:002016-06-01T09:39:23.980-07:00Imperfections<div class="MsoNormal">
1995 was a very good year. I was in eighth grade and editor
for my junior high yearbook and newspaper. I loved it. Honestly, it was probably
one of my favorite years of school throughout my entire scholastic career. Why?
Because I was able to go to a class each day that I loved, doing the things I
enjoyed most. I loved writing articles for the paper and cropping pictures for
the yearbook. I also enjoyed the leadership role of being the editor. I worked closely
with my teacher to double check proofs and layouts to make sure we were getting
what we wanted. (Shout out to Mrs. Dendy! Twenty years later and you’re still
one of my favorite teachers.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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It took a lot of work and effort for our publications staff
to put out the Hitchin' Post and Hoofbeats, and I wanted the final products to
reflect that. One day while going over a yearbook proof, I noticed that the publishing
company had made a mistake. They had an image pointing in the wrong direction.
So my teacher and I circled it and told them to reverse the image so it would
look just like the many others in the book. Imagine my shock when the yearbooks
<i>finally</i> arrive and I turn the page to
see the “correction.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>This is what the design was <i>supposed to</i> look like:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpGdjwJgkeR7PYMvTkil6ZYRGZ3jC5ZLc6RlRDLOVtBFydNCVVuSoZQrfhltvGa0wHkJkiTRVs5nHR88TnOBq-8LQGs7zzDlUcqN8Eg3qe_Evyc-6gJmFk4ATJdNhrgLP161Ltj4DM2w/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252843%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpGdjwJgkeR7PYMvTkil6ZYRGZ3jC5ZLc6RlRDLOVtBFydNCVVuSoZQrfhltvGa0wHkJkiTRVs5nHR88TnOBq-8LQGs7zzDlUcqN8Eg3qe_Evyc-6gJmFk4ATJdNhrgLP161Ltj4DM2w/s320/FullSizeRender+%252843%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'd also like to offer a shout out to Michelle!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>And this is what they printed:</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgfR_7Hnr2VIeB3VLdYz1mEHnQMvN9SkGCd1GIGxAqZigGrXKQ2r2r2b3NKoztfyojplp43ywQOqxa7LVNQzNrWgn7qkDSTDdUyaabYeeSdh4nMoDhIBu9sI0YPP_-6KdLgWI_5WHTWU/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252844%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgfR_7Hnr2VIeB3VLdYz1mEHnQMvN9SkGCd1GIGxAqZigGrXKQ2r2r2b3NKoztfyojplp43ywQOqxa7LVNQzNrWgn7qkDSTDdUyaabYeeSdh4nMoDhIBu9sI0YPP_-6KdLgWI_5WHTWU/s320/FullSizeRender+%252844%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I felt horrible. It was wrong. It was a mistake on my watch.
It wasn’t perfect.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t know how many others even noticed the mistake. I
just know that it bothered me tremendously. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Fast forward two decades later to a girl who grew up and
published two books of her own. When a stomach bug/virus/inconvenience attacked
this weekend, I decided I would finally get around to reading those two books.
(Hello, unexpected downtime!) So I read <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ransom-Healer-C-Autry/dp/1490526005?ie=UTF8&*Version*=1&*entries*=0" target="_blank"><b>Ransom of the Healer</b> </a>and <b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rise-Seer-Ransom-C-Autry/dp/1517417473/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1464796195&sr=1-1&keywords=rise+of+the+seer" target="_blank">Rise of theSeer.</a></b> And you know what? I found mistakes. And I felt horrible. Or in this
case, <b>horribler.</b> We could say even more horrible, but <b>horribler </b>just seems to
sum it up better. And I wanted to pull each and every copy and shut the whole
thing down. And I let myself hear the awful things I’ve been afraid of since
deciding to put my books out there three years ago. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am, without a doubt, my own worst critic. <i>No one</i> is better at tearing me down than
my own thoughts and voice. And I don’t think I’m alone in that. I know there
are more out there like myself and I just have to ask: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Why do we do that to
ourselves? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Why do we kick
ourselves for imperfections and perceived failures? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Why are we so quick to
notice what isn’t perfect without looking at all of the positives that got us
there in the first place?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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There is no one, not one single person on this planet right
now, who is walking around as perfection personified. And I think we need to
see that as a good thing. I think we need to see it as an opportunity to offer
ourselves grace when we make mistakes. Because we’re human, and they are going
to happen. So we have a choice to make.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We can let the weight of past failures keep us tethered to a
moment that wasn’t ideal, or we can acknowledge it and move on. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Move on, my friends. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Pull an Elsa and<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0MK7qz13bU" target="_blank"> let it go</a>. (Apologies if you end up singing that all day now.) We are more than
the sum of our imperfections and failures. To stay in that place of regret is
to forgo future joy. There is so much more freedom when we just acknowledge mistakes
as an opportunity to learn and grow.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I just thought someone else might want to hear those words.
Give yourself permission to move on. And be kind to yourself. Life doesn’t have
to be perfect to be beautiful. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-87452195353051003202016-05-25T10:19:00.001-07:002016-05-25T10:19:50.891-07:00To Boston and Back Again: A tale of travels from a self-proclaimed socially awkward introvert.<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(Remember when I mentioned that I had several things written that I never posted? This is one of those. I'm tired of it looking at me with its judgy, unpublished eyes when I log in. So, here you go! Better six months late than never.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
In a house in the country lived a writer. Not a
well-traveled writer, but one who hadn’t been on an adventure in far too long.
When the opportunity to take a trip to Boston was presented, the creatively thirsty
word worker jumped at the chance to step away from the ever glowing computer
screen and meet new characters. Below is the account of this quasi impromptu
trip.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdtYKKlz0F6GtOHkZQ19keluhHzVBoOHPx-HeJjj88r7vX3AbMvK_Hs0GikFYD2yPthfHM6kK5M5cbYN10U-HSY_s3OuJpjqFc3K38eeIOxQBYBjfqy0S6xkGhYiwlCTaWwzKBM-13jU/s1600/Boston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdtYKKlz0F6GtOHkZQ19keluhHzVBoOHPx-HeJjj88r7vX3AbMvK_Hs0GikFYD2yPthfHM6kK5M5cbYN10U-HSY_s3OuJpjqFc3K38eeIOxQBYBjfqy0S6xkGhYiwlCTaWwzKBM-13jU/s320/Boston.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Day 1:<o:p></o:p></div>
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I haven’t flown in five years. A three and a half hour
flight seems like a great way to get back into the habit. (If only someone
would invent a sarcasm font.) The flight
was very bumpy with quite a bit of turbulence. I found myself realizing more
than once that I needed to get outta dodge. And by dodge I mean the metal tube
hurling me through the heavens. It was horrible. Thankfully the view of Boston
Harbor eventually popped up and salvaged what remained of my sanity and ability
to retain my breakfast.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And then we started banking and the world shifted to an
angle my brain did not want to process. I actually heard equilibrium laughing
at me as it parachuted to the land where it belonged.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So what do you do when you finally touch down and your
stomach is unsure which way is up? You head for Faneuil Hall! (Sarcasm font
initiated there.) If you’ve never been there before, it is a gauntlet of pretty
much any food you could ever want. We’re not talking mall food court though.
The amount of options could have been intimidating, but I had already decided I
would be adventurous. This is what adventure looks like to someone who eats
beef maybe a couple of times a month:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZX_kvSXPD02xLOyqVosJH7F70c7jwKPJDQncvxnzrPjfFt2yw9WbN3vYQKMOzH1LI-gEcbDGP7BRIhTcA2jIxRbZad3L3B4-sgu77WW4v718iDtqc1L1OZsXsJ_HSa6Io6hgV1ZNXYGE/s1600/Boston+Cheese+steak.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZX_kvSXPD02xLOyqVosJH7F70c7jwKPJDQncvxnzrPjfFt2yw9WbN3vYQKMOzH1LI-gEcbDGP7BRIhTcA2jIxRbZad3L3B4-sgu77WW4v718iDtqc1L1OZsXsJ_HSa6Io6hgV1ZNXYGE/s320/Boston+Cheese+steak.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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After some much needed downtime, and by that I mean lying
perfectly still for almost two hours, the earth was stationary enough for me to
venture out again…just in time for dinner. We ended up at The Black Rose where
a group of "slightly" inebriated folks were singing Irish ballads in the corner.
The volume was stuck on an 11 and I didn’t think I could love it more, until
things slowly devolved into an awkward and slurry version of “Teddy Bear.” You
win some, you lose some. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Tjtz3Eva_ZNfHjDPRF9EG7gHJrk04veWVZUTBZZbxCrUDjETVgegkWQDz3iKAZBSWvssC1zpFVKDhRuuUO_iTvzFXdo2_QFX8Bvex2Icm2eTJFUX3tSY0234alFIHamy5gx8GPtWFTY/s1600/Boston+Black+Rose.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Tjtz3Eva_ZNfHjDPRF9EG7gHJrk04veWVZUTBZZbxCrUDjETVgegkWQDz3iKAZBSWvssC1zpFVKDhRuuUO_iTvzFXdo2_QFX8Bvex2Icm2eTJFUX3tSY0234alFIHamy5gx8GPtWFTY/s320/Boston+Black+Rose.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Day 2:<o:p></o:p></div>
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I hit the streets alone and stumbled upon this:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjqJxZrak6Lu2kwk6jolJwv5cPidXSOQYHQS4nv_IcQuq4YvmxqnrxWKWp0yhCo2XYGin188hew7oV-ntQQ-R7fK7OmUarLvop2unbbSJmW3b7a2E1ofSbLRuQaQQnM87SeZminOToKM/s1600/Boston+dog+rules.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjqJxZrak6Lu2kwk6jolJwv5cPidXSOQYHQS4nv_IcQuq4YvmxqnrxWKWp0yhCo2XYGin188hew7oV-ntQQ-R7fK7OmUarLvop2unbbSJmW3b7a2E1ofSbLRuQaQQnM87SeZminOToKM/s320/Boston+dog+rules.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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They really don’t want their dogs to have any fun in Boston.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m just going to post my touristy photos here. I went to
the New England Aquarium and may have smiled to myself at all of the parents
wrangling kids while I was free to do pretty much anything I wanted without
being responsible for anyone else.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0REhjQPAH13CcV4YhNU-4LFxpVA8r2SZV7y-nizxpcc9dRX_rCm8IwBwSmFM6yROO9m33JDYo3aN9vzkkSqE4zQGfG6aQZDFT0r2l3FLEaarz6b7CMFT_HSBJ6nhyqiRVZBkgoM1pGII/s1600/Boston+penguins.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0REhjQPAH13CcV4YhNU-4LFxpVA8r2SZV7y-nizxpcc9dRX_rCm8IwBwSmFM6yROO9m33JDYo3aN9vzkkSqE4zQGfG6aQZDFT0r2l3FLEaarz6b7CMFT_HSBJ6nhyqiRVZBkgoM1pGII/s320/Boston+penguins.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Everything was fun and penguin filled, and then things took a
turn. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m going to preface this by saying, no disrespect is
intended in the following account of this situation. I highly doubt the authenticity of this particular man of the cloth. A monk had tried to catch
my eye on Day 1, but I was all, “Oooh, Boston!” and I didn’t make eye contact.
I was also with a 6 foot+ traveling companion. This day I was flying solo and
the monk walked right in front of me and shoved something in my hand. I almost
died. Three things happened at once:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<ol>
<li>He has a hand on my shoulder.</li>
<li>He is standing <i>inches </i>away from me.</li>
<li>He is speaking to me in a language I don't understand.</li>
</ol>
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Flight or fight kicked in. No, I didn’t kick the monk. I
guess I’m more civilized than I realized. He pulled out a notebook and showed
me a picture of a temple being built. So my brilliant response was, “Oh. You
want money.” Still no English on his part. He pulled out a notebook of the
people who had donated $20. No way, shoulder toucher. That’s my lobster money.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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At this point I want to end this confrontation at all costs.
And by all costs I mean reaching in and pulling out a five dollar bill while
this guy is leaning over trying to look in my wallet. Seriously. I hand him the
five and he shakes his head. He then pulls out the notebook again and flips to
the page where people have donated $10. The fight response finally kicks in <i>and then I kick him.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Just kidding. I wouldn’t do that. Yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I did put the amulet in his hand and try to grab
the fiver back. Suddenly five dollars was enough of a donation for him. He
smiled and went on to looking for the next philanthropist. So if anyone is
interested, I know where you can purchase an amulet for "real cheap." I’ll sell
it to you for a $10 "donation." <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwtLSODj6b_0p_PROCKulXLbAlgnETGp_GAKZRdFu2TLg5T-Pz6e4LIN6DUMgc0Q7FY4nkqIId0UAvaFn7Fk-AyGOl24CRhyuM5U38yB6BjIvMLaBNlknqDCv2xiAXg8505AXSzQdA3s/s1600/Boston+Monk+Swindle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwtLSODj6b_0p_PROCKulXLbAlgnETGp_GAKZRdFu2TLg5T-Pz6e4LIN6DUMgc0Q7FY4nkqIId0UAvaFn7Fk-AyGOl24CRhyuM5U38yB6BjIvMLaBNlknqDCv2xiAXg8505AXSzQdA3s/s320/Boston+Monk+Swindle.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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After that I was peopled out. I spent what remained of the afternoon with a cup of mediocre coffee and Norman
Rockwell.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00iteKKgak31UkkEjZfQ6hUXmuVV-AnrvKDegyAbF8nLUU8gda-z52Zztp7tXa80d-BWDDDOzd-biMfbCruQwBfxyCUSTqdny3CtkFAe5yR-3K-xX3azBQhLuN90oQFcXAOpxH4MgNSk/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252833%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00iteKKgak31UkkEjZfQ6hUXmuVV-AnrvKDegyAbF8nLUU8gda-z52Zztp7tXa80d-BWDDDOzd-biMfbCruQwBfxyCUSTqdny3CtkFAe5yR-3K-xX3azBQhLuN90oQFcXAOpxH4MgNSk/s320/FullSizeRender+%252833%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p>And promptly fell in love with this print:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxycsyB4cNGc_rST_auADf_HuMVcabO586uNNXbvuxvafGq2BWUowszo-E2Wm3E2cnMkBEBjdPMBpkAoK0xTpFsuxyocpf9GT_TNL7b7zxqZaXBIhXoIyAoEimQjk24P8fHiqfMexlDy4/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252834%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxycsyB4cNGc_rST_auADf_HuMVcabO586uNNXbvuxvafGq2BWUowszo-E2Wm3E2cnMkBEBjdPMBpkAoK0xTpFsuxyocpf9GT_TNL7b7zxqZaXBIhXoIyAoEimQjk24P8fHiqfMexlDy4/s320/FullSizeRender+%252834%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This post is getting a little long and we all know how fun
it is to sit through vacation photos. I’ll wrap this up by saying, sometimes it’s
good to get 1,500+ miles away from your comfort zone. Mine was a whirlwind
trip, but I’ve been to Boston. I will always be able to say that. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And if you open a pack of crackers on the dock you are guaranteed to have company...</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-77544052150396329022016-04-29T08:45:00.002-07:002016-04-29T09:45:40.158-07:00Today is the day!<div class="MsoNormal">
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Toss that confetti, my friends!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Rise of the Seer</i> is officially ready for purchase! </span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Before I get into the specifics, I’d like to introduce you
to the newest member of my writing team. Ladies and gentlemen, say hello to
Ransom.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now for a little Q & A on <i>Rise of the Seer</i> and how you
can get your very own copy:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>How can I get my very own copy of Rise of the Seer?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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Excellent question! I’m so glad you asked. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You can purchase it <a href="https://www.createspace.com/5672309" target="_blank">here at my personal online store. </a><o:p></o:p></div>
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It is also available on Amazon and most other online
bookstores.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Is there a Kindle edition?</i></b><br />
Yes! You can find it <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rise-Seer-Ransom-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01EYV6PQS/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1461948281&sr=8-2&keywords=rise+of+the+seer" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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<b><i>I went to ____________ bookstore and asked them for your books, but
they looked at me like I was crazy. Why would they do that?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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People these days. Because I am an independently published
author, I’m doing this all on my own. It would be magical to walk in and see my
books sitting on a shelf in any bookstore, but that’s not where I am in my
publishing journey yet. As of now, I will have physical copies of my book in
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Romas-Books-163451607006309/" target="_blank">Roma’s Books</a> out here in Rockwall. Local
business, local author. It’s a good fit. They should be available there in the next few days. I
also have my own copies to sell. If you know me and see me, I’ll sell you some
books out of the trunk of my car. I’m not even kidding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Why is the paperback so much?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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Again, because of the independent publishing, I have to be
careful with the pricing. This isn’t a mass production. Each book is only
printed when it’s ordered. Because of the weight and length of the book, the
bare minimum price I could sell it for logistically speaking, was only a dollar
less than the purchase price. I promise, I’m not trying to charge an arm and a
leg to make oodles of money off of you. If I lower the price, I’ll end up
losing money with each purchase and I honestly can’t afford to do that. Book
sales aren’t buying a vacation home or paying my mortgage, they are recouping
the funds I’ve already invested into publishing two books. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Will you sign my book?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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Sure! Because you asked. Just know that sometimes I get a
little awkward and may end up writing things such as, <i>Have a great summer! </i> Or
things like <i>Keep in touch! </i> And my favorite, <i>A.C. Autry was here!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b><i>Why are your palms wet?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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Sheer, unbridled terror. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>My book club will be reading your book. Can we Skype for questions and discussions?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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First of all, thank you tremendously. Secondly, I’m happy to
Skype during some of the meeting. Just get in touch with me and we will work out
the details. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>What’s next in the Ransom series?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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Book three is <i>Reign of the Judges</i>. I don’t have an idea for
a release date. What I do know is that I’d rather not go through this
publishing process again because of the numerous hiccups I’ve encountered along
the way. So I’m looking into new avenues for the final books in the series. I
have no idea what that will look like, or where it will lead. I guess we’ll
find out together.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>How many books will be in the series?<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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From the beginning I’ve seen this as a four book series. We’re
halfway there!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Any final thoughts on this beautiful day?</i></b></div>
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Yes. I cannot thank you enough for your interest, enthusiasm, and encouragement. I'm just a girl who fell in love with writing and have been trying to keep it in my life in some way, shape, or form along the way. I don't proclaim to be an expert by any means, but I do expect to become a better writer with each subsequent project. This is me, doing the thing that I love and not letting fear dictate who I want to be or what I want to do. Be brave and courageous, my friends. And if you happen to be in the market for a fun weekend read, I have a suggestion:</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-73840459078337977202016-03-04T15:13:00.000-08:002016-03-04T15:13:29.536-08:00Writing Prompt #3 and "The Week That Ate My Lunch"Yowzah. That's all I can say about this week. Influenza B has invaded our home and it's taken down two of my people. Writing and social media have taken a backseat to supply runs, doting, and rest. Life is gloriously messy sometimes.<br />
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I haven't written my prompts this week, so I grabbed one from a few weeks back. It's short and applicable.<br />
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<b><a href="http://writerswrite.co.za/" target="_blank">“If we were all forced to wear a warning label, what would yours say?”</a><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<i>Caution: Stay back 200
feet. Stay back 300 feet before meals are consumed.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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And now for no other reason other than the fact that this made me happy, enjoy this unrelated photo:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonwCTIBLVBSo6hGvP5OdU9Y2MNQwyUGToSmEzino4g4FahBA5Y5HYM6fBG2zw5YUAu8JXYU3oWz_jbAfHoR6NCX_hps2irRrosGtMmtKAe-mnaN0Fs6nTQabT3L_HytBu2yjWRHBz2pM/s1600/canstockphoto28878264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonwCTIBLVBSo6hGvP5OdU9Y2MNQwyUGToSmEzino4g4FahBA5Y5HYM6fBG2zw5YUAu8JXYU3oWz_jbAfHoR6NCX_hps2irRrosGtMmtKAe-mnaN0Fs6nTQabT3L_HytBu2yjWRHBz2pM/s320/canstockphoto28878264.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now it's your turn. What would your warning label say?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-61687017288589954902016-02-26T13:32:00.000-08:002016-02-26T13:32:59.385-08:00Weekly Prompt 2.154We've made it to another Friday! It's the weekend and I've got a new stack of books to work through. That is my favorite combination. Speaking of favorites, this was my favorite writing prompt for the week. Post your response below if you'd like to create one also! Once again, this one is from <a href="http://writerswrite.co.za/" target="_blank">Writers Write</a>:<br />
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<b>“Write a paragraph
where a character apologizes without using the words ‘apologize’, ‘regret’, or
‘sorry’.”<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Dearest Emily,<o:p></o:p></div>
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A cloud of discontent has settled upon our relationship and
I understand that I am the one to shoulder this blame. I recognize that I have
hurt you and I desperately wish that I could go back in time and put a filter
over my mouth. Please understand that this mistake will never happen again and
I will do all that I can to make this up to you. When I said, “You snore like a
banshee,” what I <i>meant</i> to say was,
“Baby, you’re so talented. I’ve never met another person who could sing through
their nose while they slept. And to be able to sustain that intriguing melody <i>all throughout the night </i>is nothing less
than a sign of greatness.” Truly, I bow to your genius and can’t wait to spend
the rest of my life listening to your nightly nasal serenade. Do you take
requests?<o:p></o:p></div>
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All my love,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bill<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-75226778082778386822016-02-19T11:49:00.000-08:002016-02-19T11:49:26.691-08:00Writing PromptsHold on to your hats, I'm about to tell you something without entering our share circle.<br />
<br />
<i>I enjoy writing.</i><br />
<br />
While I wait for you to pick yourself up from the shock of it all, I'll just move this post along. I'm learning that there are things in this life that I don't care for at all. I'm looking at you, calamari, goat cheese, rooms without windows, folks who don't use blinkers, and crowds of people. There are also things I adore. Hello, hot tea, reading chairs, good books, laughter, stargazing, family, dogs sleeping at my feet...this list is extensive. For the sake of saving your eyes, I'll just let that end there.<br />
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I've recently discovered that writing energizes me. I can get absolutely nothing substantial or noteworthy accomplished during my day, but if I've added a few words to my book or worked on a short story, I will walk away feeling like I showed that day who's boss. I think we have different skill sets and abilities that make us feel fully engaged in life, something that takes living from ordinary to abundant in record time. I hope you know what that looks like for you. If not, why not make this the year that you discover what makes your heart light and your spirit zing?<br />
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I decided to really focus on writing this year to, hopefully, improve my craft and get back into the swing of things. Each morning I'm using a writing prompt from <a href="http://writerswrite.co.za/" target="_blank">Writers Write</a>. I thought I would begin posting one at the end of the week to pry me out of my comfort zone. Somebody grab a crowbar....<br />
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Here is the prompt and my response:<br />
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<b><i>“She knew about the
strawberries and the vanilla pods, but she couldn’t remember why she needed to
know.”</i></b><br />
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<i>It tickled the back of her memory. The juicy red berries and
the soothing scent of the vanilla brought a sense of comfort. In another life
these meant something. In another life she would check ingredients three times
before beginning to slice and measure, chop and prep. Not that she remembered
that life now. Muddled thoughts ushered in frustrations and fears she never
wanted to share. It was a weakness, a failure on her part, to admit that things
were slipping. Things that should have a permanent hold on her, faces of loved
ones, and places once known were slowly falling away. She felt the tears well
up in her eyes as she stared at the kitchen counter with the chipped tile and
dingy grout. Today would not be the day she let the forgetting begin. She
cleared her mind of the jumbled confusion and reached a gnarled hand towards
the basket of berries. If nothing else, her hands would remember. They would
remember for her when memory faltered. Slowly, slowly, they took over and began
to slice and create what she had forgotten.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRl833ZL91jxF2z8ZhG_1ZuwbFj2Z-WRwNEsimD-5pW4GUDUe69dSHwXjuE0SZFhCCKGxmc3WWzyWnvoQO-yb4TBbCOeOHACN6IdmKJRjmbScl5HKb9T6t7M28Y5FjaEa6EDUEW1NhFk/s1600/strawberries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRl833ZL91jxF2z8ZhG_1ZuwbFj2Z-WRwNEsimD-5pW4GUDUe69dSHwXjuE0SZFhCCKGxmc3WWzyWnvoQO-yb4TBbCOeOHACN6IdmKJRjmbScl5HKb9T6t7M28Y5FjaEa6EDUEW1NhFk/s320/strawberries.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-64490576298611447972016-01-29T12:06:00.000-08:002016-01-29T12:06:45.223-08:00Will You Be My Best Friend?<div class="MsoNormal">
A funny thing happened to me on the way to February. I
suddenly remembered that I had a blog. That’s me acknowledging the lack of
recent posts, but not quite apologizing. Unless you want me to. All requests
for apologies must be sent in writing and submitted to the address listed on my
<a href="http://acautry.com/" target="_blank">website</a>. Wait a second. I have a <a href="http://acautry.com/" target="_blank">website</a>?! A funny thing happened to me on the
way to February…<o:p></o:p></div>
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For those of you interested, I’ve got a quick<b> <i>Rise of the Seer</i> </b>update. It still hasn’t
been published. I’m waiting…still waiting…on the copy for the back of the book.
Those little words have to be <i>just right</i>.
I’ve submitted suggestions and am currently awaiting the final product. After
that I’ll see interior layouts and approve the cover. That’s it. I want to give
a release date. I don’t have a precise one yet other than to say, soon. I don’t
think there is anyone on earth who wants this book to be finished more than I
do. When the publishing date draws close I’ll post a countdown so you can
prepare for how hard to party and acquire the appropriate amount of confetti.<o:p></o:p></div>
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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/AVvXsEhVPZCLBqYxsSmhn6Tk8b2FYtuYDsdvx5mQr1PAaUy6oC430NZRZjDInodT9oof6ywIy2O38owd6Y5WlyjayGmh5Cji9MIG2iwRd8NtRKiyRwCwReANnViyIRS7beJPDN0yVNhtp8Z7DnU/s1600/canstockphoto3852902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPZCLBqYxsSmhn6Tk8b2FYtuYDsdvx5mQr1PAaUy6oC430NZRZjDInodT9oof6ywIy2O38owd6Y5WlyjayGmh5Cji9MIG2iwRd8NtRKiyRwCwReANnViyIRS7beJPDN0yVNhtp8Z7DnU/s320/canstockphoto3852902.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I approve of this level of celebration and confetti. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On that happy note, let’s talk about becoming friends with
books. As with most relationships and interactions, I know I don’t approach
things from a typical perspective. And I can’t be trusted in a bookstore
without a budget. Inevitably books just jump off of the shelves and into my
hands. I’ve mentioned before our house rule is that no new books may be purchased
if there is no longer room available on your assigned “to-read” shelf. Here’s a
current look at my shelf for those curious:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<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/AVvXsEj0Hw7Q23HzbZt_n5JUG0_cCmdOR3PG4PvxE-_F4_l8Rquhn02imUDzEz1EyxIYKuoXXwH5ff7gpiIrbedVCceVy-e7_aTwospE2Bn9LBIncsquIm8zPKszIXlUWEBY3nQ1JD6b2tq6HIc/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252829%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Hw7Q23HzbZt_n5JUG0_cCmdOR3PG4PvxE-_F4_l8Rquhn02imUDzEz1EyxIYKuoXXwH5ff7gpiIrbedVCceVy-e7_aTwospE2Bn9LBIncsquIm8zPKszIXlUWEBY3nQ1JD6b2tq6HIc/s320/FullSizeRender+%252829%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still plenty of room to work with!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of these books I’ve started and placed back on the
shelf because I’m always on the lookout for <i>the
perfect book</i>. I don’t know how it is for you, but when I begin a book I
recognize that we’re going to spend some time together. We’re forming a
relationship. The length and depth of that relationship is entirely up to the
book. I really don’t have any control over it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will say that the last couple of books I’ve read have
turned out to be acquaintances only. We hung out for a little while, but
nothing progressed and they’ve ended up in my trade back bin. Usually within
the first chapter or so I can get a general sense of how our relationship will
proceed. I’m not often wrong. I will confess here, that if we are still on an acquaintance
level friendship and I’m more than halfway through the book, skimming will
begin to happen and sometimes, on a rare and unhappy occasion for both of us, a
clean break will occur. Yes, a couple of books have ended up in the trade
back bin before completion. When the relationship isn’t right, it’s best to
part ways.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes though…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Something magical happens in the pages of a book.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The story grabs you
and says, “Hey, I think I know you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And as you read it the more you feel that pull, like
this one could swallow you entirely…and you wouldn’t mind one bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A line grabs you and you relate to it on some cosmic level
in a way that doesn’t happen all that often. The words wash over you and you
never knew you needed them strung together in that particular order until now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then you realize that this book could quite easily
become one of your best friends.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>And there is <i>no way</i>
this one would ever mingle with acquaintances in the trade back bin.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But you’re only 14 pages in, so you have to restrain
yourself so you don’t appear too eager. And you tell yourself, <i>“Play it cool, Autry. Play it cool. There’s
a lot of story left.”</i> But you’re already secretly planning the next time you’ll
curl up in your reading blanket with a cup of tea and your
not-yet-but-soon-hopefully best friend. Now, I didn’t want to say anything
because we’re so early in the relationship, but I *may* have found another best
friend. I’m hopeful that things will keep rolling along like they have for the
last 37 pages. I know it’s early, but I’m tired of meeting acquaintances every
evening. So if you need me this weekend, I’ll be getting to know this book a
little more. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<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/AVvXsEgey2MYyyVIw2jg-dBOB-oFPmDUByXtqVekSduNnxkqrw3z6o708Z-yHu6fTye-5OGxwVThkXw9GRrU0BrdqFKlTmpFW2Z0m_q54pz1j_zAOdmkgB9H2xat6CisVi6iUsdUbnUioSrH8S4/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252828%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgey2MYyyVIw2jg-dBOB-oFPmDUByXtqVekSduNnxkqrw3z6o708Z-yHu6fTye-5OGxwVThkXw9GRrU0BrdqFKlTmpFW2Z0m_q54pz1j_zAOdmkgB9H2xat6CisVi6iUsdUbnUioSrH8S4/s320/FullSizeRender+%252828%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I even gave this book a bona fide bookmark. No old receipt or meaningless scrap of paper for this new friend!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Notice the little glint of sunlight illuminating the cover?
This means something. I know it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Happy reading to you and yours, my fellow bookworms! Here’s
hoping your next book is one you will meet again in another few years with just
as much excitement and joy as your first meeting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-78565364935752446212015-11-11T12:48:00.000-08:002015-11-11T12:48:35.886-08:00Rise of the Seer Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4j-4kVe5yCcKJ6C24Ec6Lmn0b0wHe4aEZ0A4oX3BCSiN6ERIAuy9uA6dYaT79kyIXuEAyM3xBsrl5ZYL32w1tL__hn8dUmApdiOVfonGd4d7RuNCyk3CfcLqS_Sa9l-i-312YwPI7AGg/s1600/canstockphoto27168509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4j-4kVe5yCcKJ6C24Ec6Lmn0b0wHe4aEZ0A4oX3BCSiN6ERIAuy9uA6dYaT79kyIXuEAyM3xBsrl5ZYL32w1tL__hn8dUmApdiOVfonGd4d7RuNCyk3CfcLqS_Sa9l-i-312YwPI7AGg/s320/canstockphoto27168509.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I am happy to report that every line has been written, each word is in place, and all edits have been revised. <b><i>Rise of the Seer </i></b>is officially out of my hands! Let us all exhale. Or at least me because this story needs to be released so I can move on. It is more than time for us to go our separate ways.<br />
<br />
<b>What's left and when will you be able to read it?</b><br />
<br />
Excellent questions!<br />
<br />
Now I'm waiting for the interior layout and cover to be designed. I'm also waiting to see if there is one aspect of the cover that will be able to happen. Once I find that out, I'll let you guys in on it!<br />
This process can take about 8 weeks, or longer if I drag my feet. Trust me when I say, I have <i>no intention</i> of letting that happen! I haven't felt the freedom to sit down and just WRITE since the editing and revising of <b><i>Rise</i></b> started. It's the writing that I adore and I'm eager to get back to it.<br />
<br />
To answer when it will be out, I'm not sure yet. I'm supposed to hear from my design team within the next few days, so I should have a better idea of an anticipated release day. But, it is eminent, my friends! I think balloons will be involved. Or at the very least a confetti crown. Could one of my crafty friends (you know who you are) begin working on that? Thanks.<br />
<br />
<b>What am I working on now?</b><br />
<br />
Here is the part I'm not sure about. While all of the Ransom escapades are fresh in my mind, it would be nice to go ahead and write the third book in the series, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Reign of the Judges</i>. It's currently sitting at a piddly ten pages. However, I might devote some time to short stories for a little while to get myself back into the swing of writing. Who doesn't love a good short story? Hello, lunch break!<br />
<br />
Eventually I will move beyond the Ransom Series. As of now it will be a total of four books. After that, who knows? I'm just happy to be in a place where I have options available. Keep creating, my friends! Bake that cake, play that guitar, sing that song, paint that masterpiece, take that picture, perform in that play, sew that dress...just create. It doesn't have to be for a living. If that happens, awesome. That's great. Regardless of whether or not your creativity is tied to your livelihood, just find some time to do the thing that makes you thrive. And if you ever feel like sharing that creativity, I'm more than happy to show it off here. Seriously. Message me and we'll see what we can do. We've got this one life and it should be lived with passion and abundance!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-48754156845926774652015-10-21T15:05:00.000-07:002015-10-21T15:05:07.275-07:00Kicking Fear in the Teeth<div class="MsoNormal">
All is quiet on the writing front. It’s not supposed to be,
but it is. I’m supposed to be going over interior layouts and choosing fonts
and designing what my second book should look like. I’m supposed to be going
over marketing questions and figuring out, once again, if I’m working within
the appropriate genre. I’m supposed to be talking about it, getting word out,
and promoting, promoting, promoting this novel I’ve spent two years of my life
preparing. I know these things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So where is <b><i>Rise</i></b>?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The same place it has been for the past month. On my computer just waiting for me to take another step. It’s 99.9% finished. So why aren’t things moving along?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCty4Aut_W0edQ92dE5Na49TVnod8QuMKtpY6vp5rWuKSa89mzbBvjApIadwPobvtYj1zHxzLceIhw0t8B3tmiHCGr81Y3c3CpgJxwx1QgsXmW-LFCZb0Lw1r9xcqBiVPWv0DIgdrCtE/s1600/canstockphoto3986272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCty4Aut_W0edQ92dE5Na49TVnod8QuMKtpY6vp5rWuKSa89mzbBvjApIadwPobvtYj1zHxzLceIhw0t8B3tmiHCGr81Y3c3CpgJxwx1QgsXmW-LFCZb0Lw1r9xcqBiVPWv0DIgdrCtE/s320/canstockphoto3986272.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>Because I’m afraid.</b><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
What if they rip it apart?<br />
What if it's not as good as it could be?<br />
What if I missed something?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I have a trip to Boston coming up soon. I don’t know what it
is, exactly, but when I heard my husband was headed there for a business trip,
I just needed to go too. After he booked the flight I had to go into another
room and make myself breathe because I was suddenly overwhelmed with all that
it would mean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flying in a plane with other people and no way out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wandering around by myself in an unfamiliar city.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Figuring out where to eat and being okay with sitting at a
dining table alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if I get lost?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if someone tries to talk to me?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>It’s exhausting.<o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I decided a few years ago that I will never let fear prevent
me from doing something I want to do. There’s just too much life out there to
experience to live it any other way. And while my fears may seem silly
to others, I don’t need to have anyone else validate them to know that
they are struggles for me. Don’t we all have that thing that hinders us? That
thing that pops up just to remind us that we’re human? The thing that has the
potential to keep us from truly letting go and thriving?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So you and I are going to take all of those <i>“What ifs”</i> and kick them in the teeth.
Whatever the thing is that holds you back…or rears its ugly head just when you’re
beginning to feel brave enough to try something new. We’re going to tell it to
take a hike.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re not perfect people, so why do some of us <i>try so hard</i> for perfection? I think one
of the worst fears we wrestle with is fear of failure. Everything we attempt,
everything we want to try is polluted by the nagging doubts that want to defeat
us before we even begin. If I happen to miss a word or have a double space in a
sentence in a novel of 196,000+ words, it’s not going to be the end of the
world. Really. Failure doesn’t have to be permanently branded across our
hearts. It’s not fatal and it’s not some omnipotent word that gets to govern
how we live. No way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m shaking off all of those pesky <i>“What ifs” </i>and trying
to move forward with <b><i>Rise of the Seer</i></b>. I’ll save my fears for things actually
worth fearing. Like clown sharks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/mBALsWwxPf0/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mBALsWwxPf0?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-41424485144559271472015-09-30T13:53:00.000-07:002015-09-30T13:53:48.601-07:00A Little Bit Darker Now<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello there! I’d mentioned a few blogs back that I would try
to shift the content of this blog a little bit, and then I dropped off the face
of the earth. That’s how it goes over here. I didn’t <i>really</i> leave the planet, but I’ve been working on publishing <i><b>Rise of the Seer</b></i>. It’s taken up most of
my focus these days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<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/AVvXsEixndXzrRgiPBfApds0jlEcSrbGZOJU6phtp10pP6CzS_2PB3zAF8m7xoYhyOxj_N3A_GpuT05uxyrq_fJRNZsyPAvAtDNaeUZnTJ78NrGtYjCgIagXbdRn937i0DoYobpgS-V0E0wJ8Vc/s1600/canstockphoto2540260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixndXzrRgiPBfApds0jlEcSrbGZOJU6phtp10pP6CzS_2PB3zAF8m7xoYhyOxj_N3A_GpuT05uxyrq_fJRNZsyPAvAtDNaeUZnTJ78NrGtYjCgIagXbdRn937i0DoYobpgS-V0E0wJ8Vc/s320/canstockphoto2540260.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: start;">No, I did not get lost in space. Danger, fellow bookworms! Danger!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p>I also mentioned that I would always let you know what was
for dinner. At this exact moment, I’m not sure. I can tell you that I’ve been
obsessed with something I’m calling a “Green Goblin” this past week.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<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/AVvXsEhvoqeoFDw7VxLyL34__UvAwQQYtAHnlciZttHgCfqOzeNijAWSTGuOoRP8fne2Vn0rOlVMD7fP1_6DIWykUq3eE99G_boLFYcPJBL4KQBuJMltVEhfZkCKUyw7jGweivWvKPfh05HD494/s1600/IMG_0511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvoqeoFDw7VxLyL34__UvAwQQYtAHnlciZttHgCfqOzeNijAWSTGuOoRP8fne2Vn0rOlVMD7fP1_6DIWykUq3eE99G_boLFYcPJBL4KQBuJMltVEhfZkCKUyw7jGweivWvKPfh05HD494/s320/IMG_0511.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've slayed many a goblin this week. Spinach trembles before me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For those interested in an update, I honestly don’t have a
definitive publication date as of right now. All I can say for certain is that
it will be out before the end of the year. I have an anticipated release date,
but until I know if that’s really possible, I won’t say when it is just yet. I
know I’m doing all of this wrong. I’m supposed to build up a level of frenzied
excitement in the months/days prior to the release, but I’m a new author trying
to figure all of this out while still managing a home and family life. Suffice
to say, I don’t always know if the day will be one where I get to sit down and
focus solely on my work, or if I’ll have to drop everything and take a kid to
the dentist to have a broken tooth fixed. Life. It always keeps us guessing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that I have the **FINAL** copy (Can we please just pause
here and throw hands up? Maybe shake or wave them a little bit?) of <b><i>Rise </i></b>in
my hands, I wanted to say a few things about it. Keep in mind, as I was writing
<b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ransom-Healer-The-Series/dp/1490526005/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top?ie=UTF8" target="_blank">Ransom of the Healer</a></i> </b>I didn’t know it was going to be a book. That wasn’t the
case with this one. I started writing <b><i>Rise</i></b> in 2013 and knew the basic plot of
where I wanted the story to go. Things were mapped out and moving along. And
then life happened. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have you ever been in that place where you just don’t think
you can handle one more thing? And then that one more thing happens anyway?
That’s what last year looked like. The amount of pain and loss was staggering and
I carried it with me daily. Grief and sorrow are heavy. So very heavy. If you’ve
been there, you know. You know that it’s the first thing you notice when you wake
up. You know how you think it’s lessened marginally, that you’ve finally
started to heal, until a word or thought rips the wound back open and you’re
right back where you started. It is a place where we function. That’s it. We’re
not thriving there. We’re just making it through the day. That wasn’t where I
wanted to be. I needed to get out from under the weight of everything trying to
steal my joy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I went back to the thing that has always brought clarity
and reprieve.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote through the pain and hurt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote until the things that I no longer wanted to carry
were there in front of me, on the screen, instead of constantly sitting on my
chest. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8MOfsKSm4PCBiEvzIuavofjqNEq1W_Ayk5xOy6JcuHC7HDcuvHIWesV92Ybw_gMCvrlrfHrRVrtkLSvIeC8Q_rI3DLPj6CLtj1HTM9Evtu9ajUbI0kP9rauxeu1aK7xWFkNl8Npvjmgs/s1600/Bleeding+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8MOfsKSm4PCBiEvzIuavofjqNEq1W_Ayk5xOy6JcuHC7HDcuvHIWesV92Ybw_gMCvrlrfHrRVrtkLSvIeC8Q_rI3DLPj6CLtj1HTM9Evtu9ajUbI0kP9rauxeu1aK7xWFkNl8Npvjmgs/s320/Bleeding+heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Why am I sharing this? Because you’re (hopefully) about to
read some of the words from that time. <b><i>Rise of the Seer</i></b> was exactly what I
needed to work on while climbing out of the valley. It’s amazing how things work out that way
sometimes, isn’t it? I already had the story in place, but after 2014, I had the
emotion to add to it. <b>If I’m going to hurt, there is absolutely going to be
something beautiful to take away from it. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are currently in a valley yourself-in a place you don't want to be- please, <i>keep climbing</i>. Keep going. I don't want to trivialize your circumstances or pretend to know what your struggle feels like. I just want to encourage you to take another step. You and your story are valuable. And your story isn't over yet. <i>Just keep climbing. </i></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-67124116336853963082015-09-09T10:52:00.000-07:002015-09-09T14:16:01.408-07:00Authenticity and What’s for Dinner?<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sipping cold peach tea, sitting here in my shorts and
tank top, and have my office fan blasting on high. The only true indications
that summer is almost officially over are that the throw pillows on the couch remain
unmoved during the day and the fan is the loudest sound in the house. I don’t
know about you, but I’m ready to get back to work. Today, anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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While blogging hasn’t been a high priority for me this
summer, I have been quietly doing research on other blogs and social media outlets.
Which reminded me, once again, why I’m not a huge fan of social media. <i>There
are some odd ducks out there. </i>I wanted to see what the common thread was for
the people who have bigger platforms and a larger outreach. The thing that I
discovered is that those people tend to live life with their followers. I mean
every aspect is potentially available on full display. If you wanted to, you
could spend the day with them from their morning cup of coffee until the end of
their twinkle lighted evenings, complete with an amazing sunset. Is that what
we really want?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also noticed a trend towards some people being more open
and honest about the struggles or hardships they might be facing, but of course
that is often accompanied by a picture of a perfect mantle display or a
picturesque shot of a mug of coffee on a patio. Complete with an amazing
sunrise. I have coffee mugs, and I have sunsets. I suppose I could let you see
them. If you <i>really </i>wanted to.<o:p></o:p></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/AVvXsEjRfzq0Cb1DpZ1p82NyfcH6oTUYsAMTrH4c9aYqEin75ZEYiMSiJQLF-a4OVX1dmRar9WYb76zIpOwRK6GVsl0rjlHQlqehUp1CbDQgzYmSwYfRqoWejihPMnfDfwL0cu-A90exThkFN3E/s1600/morning+coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfzq0Cb1DpZ1p82NyfcH6oTUYsAMTrH4c9aYqEin75ZEYiMSiJQLF-a4OVX1dmRar9WYb76zIpOwRK6GVsl0rjlHQlqehUp1CbDQgzYmSwYfRqoWejihPMnfDfwL0cu-A90exThkFN3E/s320/morning+coffee.jpg" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me. Drinking coffee in my car in a safely parked position. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Please don’t think
I’m mocking them. <i>Really</i>. I’m not
much of a mocker. What I see is that humans are drawn towards community. Even
those of us who struggle with being around others. We still need that
connection to other people trudging along, just like we are. That’s one reason
I enjoy literature so much. Instant community. One story can take us to the
same place, although our experiences there will be vastly different. But there
are times when my nose is not in a book and I’m left trying to figure out what
to say to others around me. For the most part, my blog is about writing and
reading…and authory stuff. It’s my business…and I love words. Written words in
particular. Sometimes I want to write the things I’m thinking about and they
aren’t business related. This happens quite often and </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been thinking about
shifting the content here a little bit. I can’t promise that we’ll spend the
day together, but I can always let you know what I’m having for dinner. Tonight
is meat muffins, baked sweet potatoes, and fresh green beans.*</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/AVvXsEi9p3W8ltvpa18QlQZL4s4UbdN05jd8-giweey3E1HfRjaewSi9hK2_Qt2GEmIylbJu4vjxsO0C9JUrhSfkp-SVbBFa2FcKtOookG2O_hKI8kVBDGHEqmOk6eJyG07Bh3jV4uhLYf1DZQU/s1600/wolverine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9p3W8ltvpa18QlQZL4s4UbdN05jd8-giweey3E1HfRjaewSi9hK2_Qt2GEmIylbJu4vjxsO0C9JUrhSfkp-SVbBFa2FcKtOookG2O_hKI8kVBDGHEqmOk6eJyG07Bh3jV4uhLYf1DZQU/s320/wolverine.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was actually a time lapse photo of Wolverine snikting the potatoes. <br />
He's just so fast this was the best shot I could get.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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It’s a challenge to find the balance between personal and
professional. I don’t think every aspect of our lives needs to be on display
for anyone to see. I want to live in the moments without recording them. I
don’t want a backlog of pictures sitting on my devices taking up memory space.
I want the memories. I want the experiences full on, in real time, in blazing
color right in front of me. Not through a screen. But if sharing one or two of
those moments can help someone find a connection that validates the intrinsic need to
feel included, I can certainly manage that. Because at the end of the day, when
the words are put to rest, it’s the people who matter most and the stories they
have to share. It’s difficult to share those stories without a relationship.
So, here’s to a new season of interactions and to seeing the stories of those
around us. Because there will <i>always </i>be stories to share. </div>
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*I always admire the people who follow the asterisk. In the spirit of authenticity, I should let you know that this is <i>not </i>a picture of my dinner. I started this blog yesterday and that's what I ate last night. What you see here is actually a picture of my lunch today, complete with leftover baked beans from Labor Day. Also, I've changed my clothes since yesterday, so I'm no longer in shorts and a tank top. So basically, this whole "authentic" blog is built on a premise of lies. I don't know what this means for us going forward but I'm optimistic we can work things out. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-2527855540756503262015-08-12T15:46:00.000-07:002015-08-12T15:46:05.749-07:00I've Fallen Into Summer and I Can't Get UpMy dear friends,<br />
<br />
I know that it is August in the year 2015. I know that it is sunny outside and that there isn't enough sweet tea in the world to combat the relentless display of summer the Lone Star is hurling down at the pesky mortals who reside here. I know time is passing because the sun sets and reappears a few hours later. But...I am trapped in the thick of summer and I cannot find my way out of the blur of days ticking by. And the heat. My goodness.<br />
<br />
Lo, in a moment of defiance I wield my sword against the fiery furnace that will. not. stop.<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/AVvXsEgtX1Y1pesPU6vWdvYro877bUAYzjwwitTKt2u_QTpGjhXkmVztKbNAsW6sinLc0FSiF4-_cTb0cGs3-9fpaL7q_TqT9GVt67O1lnr9f5-YiMGAH-Ki335C0Yf1kt4No7mGnVIrTxu7wC8/s1600/snow+cones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtX1Y1pesPU6vWdvYro877bUAYzjwwitTKt2u_QTpGjhXkmVztKbNAsW6sinLc0FSiF4-_cTb0cGs3-9fpaL7q_TqT9GVt67O1lnr9f5-YiMGAH-Ki335C0Yf1kt4No7mGnVIrTxu7wC8/s320/snow+cones.jpg" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone together now, "For the honor of snow cones!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It just so happens that this particular sword is super sour cherry and cream. If I've learned one thing this summer it is this: super sour cherry + super sour lemon + cream= my flavor for life. It's good to know your weapon of choice and learn how to use it well.<br />
<br />
Another thing I've learned this summer is that Lewis is a surprisingly delightful traveling companion. He thought we should share a few vacation pictures to let everyone know we're still alive and well. I am under contract to agree with his promotional ideas, so here you go:<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/AVvXsEjkgSCqD4tN51iU0H-YAkhHTNS56T5eL2pucL-AH_IzSjkCXn3AHjgW1NYNSdHp_oMAMfLo7P1q21y09eakXZQKtrdw8FKdNEu-BHbmmmyqlXkf-NTDTAhZ3Bwn3AndKVbw0oVt1O1zYL0/s1600/Lewis+on+vacation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgSCqD4tN51iU0H-YAkhHTNS56T5eL2pucL-AH_IzSjkCXn3AHjgW1NYNSdHp_oMAMfLo7P1q21y09eakXZQKtrdw8FKdNEu-BHbmmmyqlXkf-NTDTAhZ3Bwn3AndKVbw0oVt1O1zYL0/s320/Lewis+on+vacation.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just reading by the lake. He's an excellent page/acorn holder. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEhNIuytetPXYI6qwG1hyEDqqyS1UWVdJ6jnAggq8WL4JBHmKO0CM7fQLZnEzhiS2WQPVWbNW8t-8S3BwTn2iOq25GnmfO0-X_YiksPK2T-q9gob9RHEEVkqp4gyJSU8_VEG0Zp8J901uHU/s1600/Lewis+rage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIuytetPXYI6qwG1hyEDqqyS1UWVdJ6jnAggq8WL4JBHmKO0CM7fQLZnEzhiS2WQPVWbNW8t-8S3BwTn2iOq25GnmfO0-X_YiksPK2T-q9gob9RHEEVkqp4gyJSU8_VEG0Zp8J901uHU/s320/Lewis+rage.jpg" width="309" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I cannot with a clear conscious recommend playing Rage with a squirrel. An angry squirrel is a dangerous squirrel.<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: center;">Lewis and I also looked into his ancestry, but those pictures aren't ready yet. He's excited to show them off though, so be on the lookout for those soon.</span><div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It hasn't been all fun and games in this vortex of endless snacks, late night page turners, and questionable dietary decisions (I'm looking at you, cereal for dinner!). I am still moving in the direction of getting <i>Rise of the Seer </i>ready for publication. It will be in the hands of my editor on August 31st. We'll then work through two passes of editing together to get it ready. And it may not look like much yet, but I've taken the first step to begin the actual publishing process. <i>Rise</i> is officially an open project now!</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/AVvXsEgPRizA8alS_ms8MWSOZclGgA7ZORSiAjPg6k6kg4SRnyQdeAvwf66LITHDDbHam8nd3bRRYY2p4soC-SZoGJPkiks_74xKngp14NP3OFxthPwZyXSr5l2PhhyphenhyphenezKYQesNfoH2Jg4jjaTw/s1600/Rise+Dashboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPRizA8alS_ms8MWSOZclGgA7ZORSiAjPg6k6kg4SRnyQdeAvwf66LITHDDbHam8nd3bRRYY2p4soC-SZoGJPkiks_74xKngp14NP3OFxthPwZyXSr5l2PhhyphenhyphenezKYQesNfoH2Jg4jjaTw/s320/Rise+Dashboard.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No turning back now!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div>
I know I've not been as active on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/A.C.Autry" target="_blank">Facebook </a>or blogging as much lately, but summer (mercifully) doesn't last forever. In just a few weeks the scent of sunscreen will once again be relegated to memory and hours of uninterrupted quiet will descend upon my house. Although some days I feel like it can't get here soon enough, I'm going to squeeze every ounce of adventure and rest out of this season. If I don't show up again by September, please come find me. I'll probably be stuck in a hammock with a snow cone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yours until sweet tea runs dry,</div>
<div>
A.C. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-27337606291503924862015-07-15T09:36:00.000-07:002015-07-15T12:20:51.109-07:00I Stayed Up Way Too Late Reading But I Still Need to Post a Blog<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can't grammar today. My brain is not having it. Really. I tried to describe simple, complex, and compound sentences this morning and eventually just had to let Google explain things. And then I drank a large glass of sweet tea. It's not even lunch time yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here's the thing...I stayed up too late reading. It pretty much looked like this:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghH-J8AOL6hBMfAEh2mRGCC32pdtdV-EK1ZXNfbvBFTf3yAtftakGWRYjuWHTT-14rVFhce5jWYtTYOZg77ayqJxy_uJLk0Bvufxy77ekXVlJsIJJQxTrEIJg8T-EN8wWmfNQ076u0_Rc/s1600/canstockphoto12160867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghH-J8AOL6hBMfAEh2mRGCC32pdtdV-EK1ZXNfbvBFTf3yAtftakGWRYjuWHTT-14rVFhce5jWYtTYOZg77ayqJxy_uJLk0Bvufxy77ekXVlJsIJJQxTrEIJg8T-EN8wWmfNQ076u0_Rc/s320/canstockphoto12160867.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Something happens in the summer. Working from home means that I can set my own hours and when I don't *have* to be anywhere at a certain time, things get a little hazy. So I was curled up in a reading chair with <i>Grace in the Wilderness: After the Liberation 1945-1948 </i>until one this morning. That wouldn't have been such a bad thing except that I was awake at 5 and thinking about <i>Go Set a Watchman</i>. Never, ever tell me that books are boring. Especially not today on such little sleep. I'm feeling a bit cantankerous. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Unfortunately I neglected to post a blog last week...and the week before that, so I didn't want to miss it three weeks in a row. I wrote one for last week, but it never seemed to come together the right way, so I present to you the bits and pieces of what I didn't cut from the blog I never posted. If that didn't make sense, my apologies. Again, I can't grammar. Pretty much at all.</span><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/AVvXsEioOT7TvpkDdxrPwStZDCrpotLqJCFgzQbaX1CLdxOcYwJns1HllcbA0_ay1P-uzhzYKJHvZcpElDJK9loObaGiOS7FszrcuB5Dyjkz6UEbwnEu3tYjU8Xt-P4Iv78oGYRgwDvoxEJJIwc/s1600/canstockphoto24761230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOT7TvpkDdxrPwStZDCrpotLqJCFgzQbaX1CLdxOcYwJns1HllcbA0_ay1P-uzhzYKJHvZcpElDJK9loObaGiOS7FszrcuB5Dyjkz6UEbwnEu3tYjU8Xt-P4Iv78oGYRgwDvoxEJJIwc/s320/canstockphoto24761230.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And now we rewind to last week...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">June 8, 20015</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s Wednesday again. I will readily admit that I neglected
to post a blog last week because I was sitting in a canoe, paddling up a creek.
I saw unexpectedly big turtles and a couple of egrets that made my breath catch
as they took flight beside our trusty ark. In the interest of being authentic,
I will also readily admit that my opinion of its seaworthiness faltered when a
rather large water snake decided to swim beside us. I did lean over to get a
better look and surprised myself when my only exclamation about the sea serpent
ended up being that it was quite beautiful. My fellow passenger was more
concerned about my inexperience with paddling and kept a weather eye to ensure
that I didn’t inadvertently fling Nessie aboard our boat. I’m happy to report
we kept our respective distances and conversed only in passing. Every snake is
secretly hoping a funny looking creature floating in the water will tell them
they are beautiful. Nature. Get out in it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><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/AVvXsEiRM-gPWe6PmGnM1DSGo5ev5p5e5hxUQrS7GUVc3CSkqUxoG-OZQpDhkUaA8jUb53P5pwecLPMFVy_kYmOnLXksd9Kxru6AKdWZ9_X-E952sIWI2xusyCDuUcbvr0692f3g44zue8x5Bc0/s1600/turtle+on+the+creek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRM-gPWe6PmGnM1DSGo5ev5p5e5hxUQrS7GUVc3CSkqUxoG-OZQpDhkUaA8jUb53P5pwecLPMFVy_kYmOnLXksd9Kxru6AKdWZ9_X-E952sIWI2xusyCDuUcbvr0692f3g44zue8x5Bc0/s320/turtle+on+the+creek.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice the largish turtle on the branch. Squint. It helps.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nessie is out there somewhere.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And fast forward to today...</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That's pretty much all I've got for today. I think the best thing for all of us to do now is step away from this monstrosity of a blog and have another glass of tea, on the rocks, with a splash of lemonade. And one of us won't stay up so late next week before trying to write a blog...although considering the number of books out there, I certainly make no promises.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-55920363776562977142015-06-24T12:42:00.000-07:002015-06-24T12:46:23.842-07:00The “F” Word<div class="MsoNormal">
Simmer down now. It’s the word <i>fantasy</i>. I thought we could have a bit of genre talk today,
although the concept of genres in general is murky and sometimes challenging to
navigate. We’ll try to wade through this together and can blame the library catalog
I was sifting through yesterday for this impromptu journey into bookish waters.
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One of the more challenging aspects of getting a book ready
to publish is trying to figure where in the world to place it. (Indie author
here. I don’t have a big company leading me in the right direction.) Genres are
essentially matryoshka dolls, where you have categories within categories. To
simplify it, I’m just referring to <i>Ransom of the Healer</i> as fantasy and all of
the other little subgenres can just cozy up within Big Mama for a little while.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lsmgQUSyL0VW-yJrWIaV1pNWAvefTcEZ46Vz8-uv5jXUDCXd1czVnoD-OHS9Zj57hGuH-08LcF1gJbZZ6h5rWlvE-cqO6aG0krf6qp1NsMHQrwZt55m-Xj1yEsBvO9EDaYfve3WThg8/s1600/canstockphoto20814077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lsmgQUSyL0VW-yJrWIaV1pNWAvefTcEZ46Vz8-uv5jXUDCXd1czVnoD-OHS9Zj57hGuH-08LcF1gJbZZ6h5rWlvE-cqO6aG0krf6qp1NsMHQrwZt55m-Xj1yEsBvO9EDaYfve3WThg8/s320/canstockphoto20814077.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The fantasy genre is one that not everyone wants to spend time in. For some it has a stigma associated with it that can make people hesitant to explore all that it has to offer. Others honestly view it as somehow inferior and I can't help but feel disappointed when a work is discredited just because it falls under fantasy. To be fair, I will admit there is some weird stuff out there...because people are weird. I don't even need to provide an example of that fact because a memory most likely already popped into your head confirming this. But not all of the content out there is weird. It's just <i>different.</i> I think as adults we tend to shy away from some of the things we would have embraced as children.</div>
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<o:p>When we're younger fairy tales and make believe are as natural as breathing. In fact, they're encouraged. Kids can spend the day wearing capes that transform them into royalty, super heroes, wizards, or magicians and we think nothing of it. We're thrilled to see them using their imaginations and smile as they live their adventures in front of us because <i>we remember.</i> </o:p></div>
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<o:p><b>We were there once.</b> </o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadIUHV01d9lZLnAK5d6RBDfp1VzjGNBOkIcKAMwlyzXtoeCIVIcpgTNq84A2MBs3__LTJCC6R7dIPrM8rACn19-zfcUNk91bDiMnkkERXx_Fzr0c3Wumo-AuM3I_wY1x7j-ogZACtH10/s1600/canstockphoto18200845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadIUHV01d9lZLnAK5d6RBDfp1VzjGNBOkIcKAMwlyzXtoeCIVIcpgTNq84A2MBs3__LTJCC6R7dIPrM8rACn19-zfcUNk91bDiMnkkERXx_Fzr0c3Wumo-AuM3I_wY1x7j-ogZACtH10/s320/canstockphoto18200845.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We wore tighty whities on our heads as scuba masks. We were invincible against bad guys. We were cowboys and astronauts and we fought dragons while casting spells. And then something happened. We got older. Our capes were exchanged for suits and uniforms and we all but forgot about the once upon a times and the mighty feats we performed when we had super powers. </div>
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<b>This is why I like fantasy.</b></div>
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I understand that I'm asking you to suspend logic for 300 pages. I get that I'm asking you to accept the fact that my characters don't need food and sleep the way that we do. Fantasy authors are taking you into places that they've imagined. They're inviting you into their world of make believe. For just a little while we're all super heroes again and we are on a collective adventure. We're traveling through wardrobes and we're flying through the air on a Nimbus 2000. We get to postpone the monotonous and mundane aspects of life for just a little while. </div>
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If you are in the group that already enjoys fantasy, you are one of my people. If fantasy intimidates you or isn't something you think you'd enjoy, just give it a try. You might be pleasantly surprised. I know it can seem silly or preposterous to some out there, but remember: A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men. Thank you, Roald Dahl, for that beautiful reminder.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-66102330722826908662015-06-17T18:33:00.000-07:002015-06-17T18:33:37.115-07:00Laws of Motion<b>I did not intend to take physics in college.</b> I ducked and dodged and shied away from courses that involved complicated math and equations like a skillet on a hot stove. Bring on the literature! Bring on the essays and reading lists! Chemistry and calculations? No, thank you. An unfortunate round of scheduling brought me face to face with the very thing I had tried to avoid for semester after semester. I took Physical Science over the summer before my impending graduation...<b>and</b> <b>I <i>loved</i> it.</b><br />
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Loving it certainly didn't mean that it came without challenges. Nope. I struggled and worked hard to keep up in that class. But I have to say, of all of my college courses I walked away with a greater sense of accomplishment from that class because of the effort it took to finish. No, I did not get an A. And that didn't matter to me one bit. To this day I still don't fully understand electric circuits, but I'm okay with not understanding all the ways of the universe.<br />
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Why the physics talk? So glad you asked. It's because I still have an $80 used textbook on my shelf to unload and I'm trying to finance publishing a second book. Just kidding. It's not for sale. <i>It's my trophy. </i><br />
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Earlier I was thinking about how objects at rest tend to stay at rest and objects in motion tend to stay in motion unless an outside force disturbs it. At the moment I'm an object in motion with finishing up this second draft of <i>Rise of the Seer. </i>My plan is to stay in motion until it's finished, which means I need a...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuUvohgTMN2K15gRIZiOKOHdWMhI1kjao0f2SfZz5aKx09jYUSah_ZiMOixhcVica2w-fubjn1KWX6p0EgAH46mnatI_eZT0oyDHV7ex8slu5_3n9G6xxCv79awFOLoBKEm7rRQxyWcw/s1600/canstockphoto25761996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuUvohgTMN2K15gRIZiOKOHdWMhI1kjao0f2SfZz5aKx09jYUSah_ZiMOixhcVica2w-fubjn1KWX6p0EgAH46mnatI_eZT0oyDHV7ex8slu5_3n9G6xxCv79awFOLoBKEm7rRQxyWcw/s320/canstockphoto25761996.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I had a few people ask me about the progress on Rise because I hadn't mentioned it lately. It's moving along and I am looking forward to handing it off once again. Outside eyes see things that I just can't find on my own. Eye color...the spelling of names...who does and does not like pickles and <i>why? </i><b style="font-style: italic;">(1,000,000 points to you if you knew the answer to that last one.*) </b></div>
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I feel like I would miss a wonderful opportunity to let you in on one of my favorite lessons from back in the day. Check out the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tacoma_Narrows_Bridge_(1940)" target="_blank">Tacoma Narrows Bridge</a> to see why physics can be utterly fascinating. It can also give me a small case of the heebie-jeebies. What's life without a little bit of fascination? The moral of this story is, work hard, kids. Try the thing you think you can't do and don't put limits on yourself before you ever start. Someone should really put that on a t-shirt. Thank you in advance.</div>
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<b><i>*Points may be redeemed for a smile or high five, depending on your level of comfort and my level of comfort at the time you choose to tell me about your in no way literal points. Open to US residents 18 and up.</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Also, it's Catryn. Because of an afternoon of pickling that she just couldn't get out of. The more you know...</i></b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-8714794603134488472015-06-03T11:54:00.000-07:002015-06-03T11:54:24.192-07:00Summer Loves Books<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunscreen and bug spray have once again become the perfume of
the season. The sun is (finally) shining and demands exploration of everything
it touches. School is drawing to a close and the communal calendar in our house
comes to a screeching halt. Late evenings around the fire pit and board games
loom on the horizon. We’ve finally made it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We have a tradition in this family we started a few years
ago. The first Monday of summer vacation is sacred. It is our one day to
completely unwind. It starts with a box of toaster pastries left on the counter
for whenever someone wakes up. We have them maybe twice a year, so this is a
big deal for us. It is also the only day of unlimited screen time and pajamas.
It’s the day we recharge. Normally, we don’t leave the house (due to all of the
pajama wearing), but this year another magical day coincides with our sacred
day<i>-Summer Reading Kickoff at our
library.</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We'll meet soon, you little rectangle of deliciousness.</td></tr>
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Until a few years ago I didn’t even know that our local
library offered summer reading programs for adults. After discovering this
exciting news I have made it a part of my summer ever since. We read a certain
amount of books from any genre, fill out a form, and are then entered in
drawings for prizes. The first summer I won a basket full of pens, sticky
notes, chocolate, and a gift card to Half Price Books. It was a solid week
before my merriment finally died down. I realize that summer is no longer a
break or three free months for most of us out there now. It’s still fun to
challenge ourselves to make reading a priority, and it is nice to know that
others out there are joining in on the literary jollification. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Current to-read shelf. House rules dictate no new purchases can be made if there is no room left. I've still got space!<br /></td></tr>
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Check your local
library to see if they offer a summer reading program for adults as well as the
kids. If you do have children, Half Price Books also offers a <a href="https://www.hpb.com/fyb/" target="_blank">free summer program </a>where they can earn Bookworm Bucks to apply to future purchases. If book
contests are more your thing, one of my favorite authors, <a href="http://sarahaddisonallen.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Addison Allen</a>,
is co-hosting a Summer Reading giveaway. You can <a href="https://promotion.binkd.com/Enter.aspx?id=27500" target="_blank">enter by clicking here.</a> </div>
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Books and hammocks are best friends. I hope you enjoy their friendship to the fullest extent this summer. Do it for the books. They are the least expensive vacations you will ever take and their destinations are unlimited. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4ARbrw1iO6BQdNORF6odQOaO_eQBj31NUIHJBfZ6SkmokSpqnk6Xg9TiYBrPojg9KVTMSMb4xvj3ooW_hJkSl6yIjYwtHteumSi8I2mx_FA_l7oj9emAB5cngN_VlxjMkcyLkCJHYNo/s1600/canstockphoto22417235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4ARbrw1iO6BQdNORF6odQOaO_eQBj31NUIHJBfZ6SkmokSpqnk6Xg9TiYBrPojg9KVTMSMb4xvj3ooW_hJkSl6yIjYwtHteumSi8I2mx_FA_l7oj9emAB5cngN_VlxjMkcyLkCJHYNo/s320/canstockphoto22417235.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-41030374590601713922015-05-27T12:44:00.000-07:002015-05-27T12:44:17.489-07:00Down Came the Rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's Wednesday. You know what that means! I hope that you said, "New blog post!" You're correct, by the way. May is still screaming by, just like always. But unlike always, we're a soggy mess right now. I had mentioned in a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/A.C.Autry/photos/a.229252620572852.1073741825.128824543948994/450096665155112/?type=1&theater" target="_blank">Facebook post </a>about scouting locations for a <i>Ransom of the Healer</i> book trailer. It's a very exciting idea and I am looking forward to turning it into a reality. </div>
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We found the perfect location and figured out the means to get there. I was planning costumes and beginning to put together the ideas for camera shots. Things were moving along well. And then the skies opened up. I'm sure by now you've seen the video footage of the exorbitant amount of rainfall the Lone Star has received as of late. My heart hurts for my fellow Texans who have lost lives, loved ones, and homes. We're used to crazy weather here, but this is more than we've grown accustomed to. It's downright staggering. Twenty of the last 26 days have brought rain to our area. </div>
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What does the rain have to do with the book trailer? Our key location was on the remains of a bridge in a lake that has been accessible for a few years. That bridge is no longer an option. Now, please forgive my horrible photography. Some of these pictures were accidents and I had no intention of sharing them on my blog when I took them. But I changed my mind so you can see this and marvel with me. </div>
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This first picture was taken on the first of May when we were scouting the location. I'm actually standing in the predominately dry lake bed looking back towards the shore. (It was an accidental picture as I was trying to avoid hidden animals that both screeched and hissed at us.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXN9g9qe8XmZcZ4UWGHkR4wLIlTlfgwtKboqbKIPSfYiMRC6oFx8HTWFzEDStNgS_4OQeJrwe4A9GNMF_MIsYdzHOtlxd-ixBXhkYtb3obBvGZL-pdePDDBXPZn3o9eB3kaKK9geS8Vo/s1600/Dry+lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXN9g9qe8XmZcZ4UWGHkR4wLIlTlfgwtKboqbKIPSfYiMRC6oFx8HTWFzEDStNgS_4OQeJrwe4A9GNMF_MIsYdzHOtlxd-ixBXhkYtb3obBvGZL-pdePDDBXPZn3o9eB3kaKK9geS8Vo/s320/Dry+lake.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Fast forward several thunderstorms and two weeks later and you have a vastly different location. This was taken from the other side of the lake. That tiny speck in the picture is what was left of a portion of the bridge I could have walked across on the day I took the first picture. I haven't taken a picture in the last few days, but the tops of the rails are just about submerged again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKN8U_EGH9jofqrNPHpfiQ1FLvsK4S_GudsMyphyECY35F6bSskTijrRu2N5jrw8KAp0G1fmT8XrvxZJUTGWkq-ithewU2K_piwlOUYSELbCVgf_z4-zGXVD6PV9iptKwoqN9EfI_7Oc/s1600/Bridge+after+rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKN8U_EGH9jofqrNPHpfiQ1FLvsK4S_GudsMyphyECY35F6bSskTijrRu2N5jrw8KAp0G1fmT8XrvxZJUTGWkq-ithewU2K_piwlOUYSELbCVgf_z4-zGXVD6PV9iptKwoqN9EfI_7Oc/s320/Bridge+after+rain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm not about to complain about rearranging filming when people have suffered so much and are still dealing with the ramifications of the storms. I've just been amazed at the sheer volume of water in a land that's been suffering a significant drought for the last several years. </div>
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As I was wading through a flooded field I came across these floating blobs. If you've ever wondered how ants survive when their nests are flooded, here you go. They band together and form islands. I had never seen this before but I found it fascinating. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9S4vrGnLe9JZ-1M4ckwZnKGS43gGOR8PVH5sLV-D7bLx-qdNo2CRXMFiHb2-xYBDsxUAYcpO2yO4e53Z66YjpaOSeroYh42IQifH4qxe3YJphiZNhELELBB3KO7GHeVs8Sp2TBHlrxwo/s1600/Ants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9S4vrGnLe9JZ-1M4ckwZnKGS43gGOR8PVH5sLV-D7bLx-qdNo2CRXMFiHb2-xYBDsxUAYcpO2yO4e53Z66YjpaOSeroYh42IQifH4qxe3YJphiZNhELELBB3KO7GHeVs8Sp2TBHlrxwo/s320/Ants.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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I've found other things fascinating during our monsoon season. Like this, for example. I love when one of these pops up after a storm, but when two of them are there, you must stop and stare until they vanish.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jHcnInIALkNpOpq6z-4eauKdzS-DPJSSZa-Sxh4eGyTOC2XTiy3KRvnpNvb200co-4AYpbpCMPgYJfJTzfDNj2EbTxF66xoi9UXFSvuOG1AOEs7pMSewjIzKDR9o-x4wcTghQMDN9h4/s1600/Double+rainbow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jHcnInIALkNpOpq6z-4eauKdzS-DPJSSZa-Sxh4eGyTOC2XTiy3KRvnpNvb200co-4AYpbpCMPgYJfJTzfDNj2EbTxF66xoi9UXFSvuOG1AOEs7pMSewjIzKDR9o-x4wcTghQMDN9h4/s320/Double+rainbow.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
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And just two nights ago after another severe thunderstorm, the prairie sky was once again wide and high. (Insert hand claps here.)</div>
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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/AVvXsEihrHHtG2atvhhUXXITNfMhFpLr1xOGbzLpyA93Z2YcmyuyN1nHN65Tdlb6RUBTamnBCI894SlYUx8eJEtbQ-XCXLt3NfBY8hyGQINdeeAQgAM70HpglV-rTBgwxal8K8CHcmR23jsEahA/s1600/IMG_0694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrHHtG2atvhhUXXITNfMhFpLr1xOGbzLpyA93Z2YcmyuyN1nHN65Tdlb6RUBTamnBCI894SlYUx8eJEtbQ-XCXLt3NfBY8hyGQINdeeAQgAM70HpglV-rTBgwxal8K8CHcmR23jsEahA/s320/IMG_0694.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit goes to Rex for this one.</td></tr>
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As the water begins to recede, let's continue to take care of each other out there and remember that people are the priority. And soak in those sunsets. Beauty has a soothing quality about it and there are some out there who could use a touch of it today.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-54493764786193422902015-05-20T06:25:00.000-07:002015-05-20T06:25:25.732-07:00May I?"Wednesdays are for blogging," she said.<br />
"But I demand your constant attention," May said.<br />
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It's that time of year again. In a valiant effort to make every moment count, the month of May roars in and threatens to remove all semblances of order and routine for four consecutive weeks of end of the year activities. Yes, it takes an <i>entire month</i> to end the school year. When the chalk and ghosts of assignments past finally settle, I will have attended no fewer than six awards ceremonies and other various "final performances."<br />
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We are heading face first into summer vacation around here and I give. Bedtimes are stretching out later and later as the sunshine continues to cascade through the blinds in the evening. Our wardrobe choices have relaxed into a "just make sure it's clean" system and I don't even bother to check if socks match anymore. The nostalgic laissez-faire household policy of summer living is creeping in and waffles are served for dinner, flip flops have taken up residence on the front porch, and reading cots are permanently stretched out in the living room. It's a wonderful time to be alive. It's a challenging time to try to write.<br />
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I'm making it work though! In between book battles, band concerts, track meets, and appointments for a broken bone, I'm chipping away at the rewriting process. I'm overdue for a blog post, so I just thought I would drop a quick snapshot of life barreling down the highway to summer. I know it's like that for the majority of us out there. Just remember to take a moment to kick off your shoes, have a glass of iced tea, and breathe. We've almost made it. In just a few weeks we'll be wondering where on earth our summer vacation went. One day at a time, my friends. We're smack dab in the middle of soaking up the moments that become memories. Some things just shouldn't be rushed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Tf0xB8-xv5BYcf9AR-BErfAHwgNGyi0cYWmMw24cdOlBB1AnlNZyGOeayy5P8EF1g-X0c4FUV9ZzP-5_39DQz0NlLaL_OP7ank5i5vK_XX9TgWoqtsUw41q0SJ2yw4W7GisLkn9TlpY/s1600/May.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Tf0xB8-xv5BYcf9AR-BErfAHwgNGyi0cYWmMw24cdOlBB1AnlNZyGOeayy5P8EF1g-X0c4FUV9ZzP-5_39DQz0NlLaL_OP7ank5i5vK_XX9TgWoqtsUw41q0SJ2yw4W7GisLkn9TlpY/s320/May.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-69423645695655206722015-04-29T09:23:00.000-07:002015-04-29T09:23:19.075-07:00When It’s Not Your Cup of Tea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XBo9DJ0ji2LuveEdbvLCoz5z5yUKdbirS8OgjnKI1dVcpJ-7H0kcUyywBR2V5LL8FNX0pFf2FHU1C4nK3uPtgoTFHsIZUmnheOCJTii0N1_jF18CtoTMm-IGnGhrpp77IIYELCDpY3Q/s1600/canstockphoto8455982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XBo9DJ0ji2LuveEdbvLCoz5z5yUKdbirS8OgjnKI1dVcpJ-7H0kcUyywBR2V5LL8FNX0pFf2FHU1C4nK3uPtgoTFHsIZUmnheOCJTii0N1_jF18CtoTMm-IGnGhrpp77IIYELCDpY3Q/s1600/canstockphoto8455982.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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I‘m a tea drinker. A hot cup of tea can wake me up, calm me
down, or offer comfort in stressful situations. There are as many tea options
available as there are moods to be in. If you’re not finding one to fit your
current craving, you can just create your own. It’s quite versatile. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m also a reader. Books can lift my mood, bring me down,
offer comfort in stressful situations, and give me an acceptable barrier when I
need to withdraw from my surroundings. The wonderful thing about books is that
there are also infinite options out there to fit what mood you’re in. Or what
mood you want to be in. Books can help with that. As abundant as books are in
quantity and expanse of genre, they have one thing in common. They were
written.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just as we don’t know the story inside the book before we’ve
read it, we also don’t know the story <i>behind
</i>it for the one who has written it. It’s the same concept for anything that’s
created. We hear a song, but don’t know where the songwriter is coming from. We
admire a piece of art without knowing the motive behind it. We can appreciate
an amazing, <i>I mean eyes will roll back in
your head amazing</i>, crème brûlée without knowing the life story of the one
who prepared it. The common thread that ties these all together is that they
are created things. Someone had to put the time, effort, and work into moving
these things from thoughts or ideas into substances we can physically enjoy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m thankful there are people out there who are willing to
share their creations with me. I have songs that have become personal anthems,
I have books that are falling apart because their words are familiar
destinations I can revisit as often as I need to. I especially love the friends
who can bake amazing chocolate cakes and are happy to share them. **Ahem, you
know who you are, and I love you.** Every time we create something we are
sharing a little bit of ourselves. Honestly, that takes some courage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikyiXQ1VDNiB6gEuX8SYQEykrcyAFXzqLcqMqkfeuNVBOOXI90mMjkjr-M25oD3uDU0QXknAOd_kIFdIMt4N5YvEWfaNpR3SG8ySfjyyB6ZJIpL2EYkQfgnWJgm5m31f6v_rx-Q7u1Ykg/s1600/canstockphoto25721959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikyiXQ1VDNiB6gEuX8SYQEykrcyAFXzqLcqMqkfeuNVBOOXI90mMjkjr-M25oD3uDU0QXknAOd_kIFdIMt4N5YvEWfaNpR3SG8ySfjyyB6ZJIpL2EYkQfgnWJgm5m31f6v_rx-Q7u1Ykg/s1600/canstockphoto25721959.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pardon me, while I wipe the drool from my chin.</td></tr>
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So what happens when you hear a song that makes you grit
your teeth, or you see art that strikes you as less than amazing, or you read a
book that makes your eyes roll in an “<i>I
can’t believe this person actually wrote this”</i> kind of way? It
happens. We have a few choices. Let me be clear, I’m not talking about things
you are morally opposed to. I have my boundaries for what I will read, watch,
and listen to. Some words and images just don’t deserve an invitation to take
up residence in my memory. But if that isn’t the case, and it is simply a
matter of opinion, what do we do when we don’t like something? What happens
when it isn’t our cup of tea?<br />
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<i>We can say,
“No, thank you.”</i></div>
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We can remember that it is still a real person behind the
work. We can recognize their creativity without having to engage in it
personally. We can throw that book across the room and let it sit there for a
while before picking it up and passing it along to someone else who might enjoy
it. (Yes, that one is personal experience.) The other thing we can also do is
remember that our words are powerful. We can cut, dismantle and destroy with
them. Or we can encourage, motivate, and critique with them. I don’t mean blindly
tearing into as a form of critique. Constructive criticism and ripping into
shreds are two entirely different things. For some reason there are folks out
there now-especially in this age of social media and personal stardom- who
cling to their right to say anything, and value their own opinions and words
more than they do the recipient of their assaults. When it all comes down to a
matter of personal opinion and preference, we all have the choice to say, “No, thank you. That’s
not my cup of tea,” then go find something that is. I guarantee we'll find something we like, and if we don't we can always create our own. The world is a big place
and there is more than enough tea for all of us. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-75703039992135127292015-04-22T09:22:00.000-07:002015-04-22T09:22:09.177-07:00The New Office<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We are once again entering the share circle, my friends. Embrace
the closest book to you and repeat after me: I, fellow bookworm, do solemnly
promise to refrain from passing judgement upon my fellow bookworm, A.C. Autry,
as I see the before photos of her office. I also solemnly promise not to throw
cleaning supplies, magazine clippings with organizational tips, or hoity-toity
leers in her direction. I understand that she is human and had just finished
writing her second book, <i>Rise of the Seer</i>, when these pictures were taken. I
support her theory that a good writing day is more valuable than a clean desk.
May I suffer the anguish of a dozen paper cuts soaked in lemon juice should a
leer creep onto my face or a dust rag accidentally leave my hand and fly in her
direction.*<b><i>I will also purchase a million copies of each book she writes.</i></b>”
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Thank you so much for saying that. I feel like we can now
proceed into what my life was like before yellow walls. Ooops, I should have
said <i>spoiler alert</i> there. </div>
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Here’s some
back story on the room we now call “The Office.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Once upon a time a
young family moved into the house they had waited for for seven years. It was
finally a place to call their own where they could plant anything they wanted.
Even corn. But that doesn’t grow well here, so they never tried.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>They chose their own
house plan so they could have a room dedicated solely to musical gear. It was
to be “The Music Room.” The gear came in and the years passed. And more gear
came in and more years passed. Then the fact that they had no garage came back
to bite them in the drumstick. And the gear stopped trickling in as the need
for a place to complete school projects arose. Slowly but surely, “The Music
Room” morphed into “The Storage Room/Cave of Despair.” <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Hark! Our aspiring
author emerged from the sanctity of naptimes and snacks with Curious George to
begin creating a story. The more she created, the longer she was in “The Cave
of Despair.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>UNTIL ONE DAY. A
vision of sunny walls and LESS STUFF filled her eyes as possibility kicked
around in her imagination. They could give this sad room with the perpetually closed
door the identity it had so desperately lacked. And they did. And there was
great rejoicing in the land. </i></div>
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<i>The End.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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My friends, I present to you <b>“The Cave of Despair.”</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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As you can see, that wasn't an environment most conducive to writing or anything of a creative nature. In the beginning of the year I made a commitment to writing and have taken steps to jump in completely. I needed a space to match the vision I'm chasing. </div>
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So after a month of chaos and throwing out so very much clutter, now I present to you (with its official title and identity), <b>"The Office."</b></div>
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I'm really happy with the results for many reasons. The first reason is because in order to avoid filling this space back up with all of that junk, we had to get rid of so much <i>stuff. </i>It's liberating. It's also a place where we can all work now. Let the school projects resume! And the guitar playing! And the writing!</div>
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A word of caution if you are thinking of tackling a project like this for your own office. If you put up white boards, messages <i>WILL </i>randomly appear at any given time. I had the privilege of finding this one:</div>
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<i>And there was great laughter and rejoicing in the land.</i></div>
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<i>The End.</i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>*I see that you are a person who is attentive to detail. That's an admirable character trait. I don't expect you to REALLY purchase a million copies of every book that I write. We can just meet in the middle here and call it a good 500,000. That works for me. How about you? Good. I'm glad we took care of this little arrangement. You're the best! </b></span></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5883283482824582138.post-64080554606885528552015-04-15T12:19:00.000-07:002015-04-15T12:19:33.584-07:00Now What?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wednesdays are for blogging, she says.<br />
I did write a blog last week, but it ended up growing into something bigger than what I intended. It involved superheroes and the portrayal of women in those roles. I'll post that one when I polish it up a bit more. Not that <i>this </i>one will be polished. Blogging is more conversational to me, so I don't have anyone else edit it before hitting that looming "Publish" button. I'm human. I use words incorrectly. Frequently. And I also rely on my spell check far more than I should. I think at some point I'll publish a post that's completely unedited, complete with all of the typos and words I inadvertently create when I'm trying to use another word. There's another post to look forward to!<br />
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I mentioned that I was able to attend a conference for writers in Austin this past February. It was really good and the content was pretty solid and informative. Something you may not know about me, (everyone scoot into the share circle), is that I have trouble being in groups of people. I was going to say large groups of people, but that's not accurate. Let's just make that a blanket statement and say that I have trouble being around others. It's not that I don't like you. I promise. It's not that I'm not interested in your story. I'm a writer. I devour stories and words. It's just that my heart beats really fast and my palms sweat and my stranger danger survival mode has been activated as soon as you begin to engage me in conversation. That's a lot going on all at once. Put me in that situation for a weekend conference and at every given opportunity I will flee into the safety of my personal bubble every. single. time. Engagement is a legitimate struggle for me.<br />
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I wanted to find a great photo to convey the safety I feel in my own personal bubble. I searched for "safety bubble" and this was the result. Not as dramatic as a frightened looking author crouching in their own bubble in a crowded room. But...this will work. Show of hands, who is touching their screen right now to try to pop these little guys?<br />
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So as I enter the writer's lair at the conference, I decide to actually talk to someone. The first lady I spoke with kept rubbing my hands because they were cold and I almost died. It was touch and go there for a while. **WARNING! BUBBLE INVASION!** After that conversation I spoke to another author and when she asked why I was there I told her I would like to find a way to turn writing into a career. And....<i>she laughed at me. </i>This wasn't just a snicker. It was a head thrown back in a full laugh. I set up an extra layer to my safety bubble after that.<br />
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It wasn't all how I envisioned it, but one of the things the experts kept saying was that you have to engage your audience daily. I just wanted to warn everyone now that I'm going to try to do that. I don't want to bombard you, and I certainly don't want to annoy, but I'm just trying some new tactics in the hope that one day <i>I'll </i>get to laugh in the face of an aspiring author. JUST KIDDING. I would never do that...unless you're telling me all about your new book and it's a comedy. Then I'm assuming laughter would be appropriate.<br />
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All of this to say I'm working on growing the community around The Ransom Series. It will be whatever it is supposed to be, but I want to make sure that I am working with all of my heart and giving my best effort. I want to have a place where we can talk about the world we've visited together. I want to provide others an opportunity to hopefully read something that will encourage them in their day. When it all comes down to it, we each need other people to walk with us on this journey. I can deactivate my bubble for a little while each day if that allows me to acknowledge the value I see in a fellow reader and bookworm. You guys mean a great deal to me and I'm looking forward to getting to know some folks a little better. It's a privilege to have just one reader. To you I say a heartfelt, <i>thank you.</i><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12295071861254744975noreply@blogger.com2