Indie Thoughts

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always held a strong independence about myself. Sometimes to the detriment of others around me.

I recall distinctly when as a young skater punk wearing denim jackets with band patches sewn all over them (think Metallica, Anthrax, Suicidal Tendencies and more) and I had a girlfriend who had a hard time with it. She was a little embarrassed when she said “everyone’s gonna talk about you.” My reply? “Great! At least they’ll be thinking about me!” I didn’t care what they thought, just that they thought of me. Owning a small slice of space in their minds for free was awesome.

FreeNow, I didn’t go out of my way to be different, I was just being myself. If that meant denim jackets with patches, then that’s what it was. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me. I knew myself. I knew what I liked and didn’t like. I did things my way how I saw fit.

That doesn’t mean I always did the right thing. Just ask my mom or my wife about the crazy haircut I had. (If you go through my posts from August you’ll see a picture of me in a yellow shirt. That’s the haircut I clung to). I wanted to try something different and I let the style linger through my senior year in high school. Not my finest moment but then again, I did things my way. At the time I could care less what anyone thought of it. Looking at it now I can laugh, but you know, I don’t regret it. How many times do we want to try something but don’t because we let fear rule us?

My tendency to do my own thing leads me away from a lot of things too. If some book or movie or band is the newest thing, I purposely stay away from it. Call it my old punk rock spirit. Call it being non-conformist. Call it whatever, but that’s kinda my reaction to things. I still haven’t read the Harry Potter books, mostly because “everyone loved them” and my natural tendency is to steer clear of super-popular things. I’ve never watched Dr. Who because it’s expected of scifi fans. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but it is who I am.

The indie spirit, so prevalent in the music I listened to (and still do!) is alive and well within me. I’m myself. I make no apologies about it.

 

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Going Full-On

I’ve written before about moments in my writing “career” where I’ve felt dejected and full of self-doubt. This is not one of those posts.

I have a strong tendency once I get past my initial doubts where I go full-on confident.

man-1902765_960_720You see, there are times when I don’t give a damn what someone else thinks. I know I will succeed. I have no doubt. I believe in myself when no one else will.

I’ve never been given anything. If I wanted it, I had to work hard for it. My family didn’t have money. I started working when i was 13 or 14 as a newspaper carrier for the Plain Dealer in Cleveland, OH. I got up every morning before the sun and delivered the daily paper all along my street.

Not having money taught me to work hard, learn from my mistakes, and suck it up. I didn’t always enjoy the jobs I had, but I dealt with it and gained strength from it. Everything I gained is because of determination.

I can’t tell you how many times my stories have been rejected (Well, actually I can. My stories have accumulated 74 rejections since 2014 with only 4 acceptances). Many for good reasons. It’s ok. I know they’re good. I know they belong somewhere. So I continue sending them out.

The thing is, I can’t let those get to me. What’s the saying, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?” I feel that way about my stories. They weren’t right for some places but a perfect fit for others. I gotta find that fit.

So for those who reject my stories just know, you’re gonna be part of my success. You will push me to prove you wrong. It might not be the most healthy attitude, but it keeps me focused.

Coffee With a Side of…Peanut Butter?

The old saying goes, there are only two things in life that are certain: death and taxes. I’d like to alter that statement.

There are only two things I can’t live without in life: coffee and peanut butter.

Now before you go bashing me for not mentioning my wife or son or something substantially more important than coffee and peanut butter, let me state clearly they are the most loved people in my life.

However…

coffee-1576552_960_720I started drinking coffee when I was in college. I worked at a fast food restaurant and had free access to coffee. I was going to school studying history and though I loved the subject (still do!) most historical works are boring to read. I’d get tired eyes fast. Working the overnight shift at times didn’t help either. So, I started drinking coffee on the regular. I’m enjoying the delicious beverage now as I write this!

At first it was all cream and sugar with a touch of coffee. My taste slowly evolved until I drank it black. Now, I’ll add a splash of some flavored creamer. Every morning I brew a pot of steaming goodness and drink most of it before I go to work.

peanut-butter-350099_960_720I honestly can’t recall when my peanut butter obsession came into being, but it’s common knowledge at home and work that if something has peanut butter in it, I’ll like it.

I’ll eat a toasted english muffin with peanut butter for breakfast and a peanut butter sandwich at lunch. Sometimes if I have bananas at home, I’ll add some slices to the sandwich. I don’t do the classic pb&j, just peanut butter on whole wheat bread.

My peanut butter obsession knowns no bounds. Give me peanut butter cup candy, blizzards from Dairy Queen with peanut butter, peanut butter pie…you name it, I’ve probably tried. Heck, there’s a local burger restaurant that has a bacon cheeseburger with peanut butter on it. I had to try it! The result? Pretty darn good!

I’m not ashamed of my addictions. I stand behind them waving their proverbial flags trying to entice others to join me. Where do you stand on these? What’s are the two things you must have? Share with the rest of us!

 

(Almost) Average August Recap

It’s finally August 31st and I can back down from posting a bit. If you’ve been following along this month, you might’ve noticed I went on a post frenzy, sharing a new post every day.

I decided in late July to give it a try and I’m proud to say I’ve made it to the end. I think instead of my normal once a week posting schedule I adhered to prior to August, I might up that to three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

calendar-159098_960_720During this past month, I’ve had the most visits, views, likes, and comments since I’ve started this blog several years ago. I was blown away by the response I’ve had and hope to continue offering interesting posts going forward.

So in case you missed it, here’s a rundown of the last 30 days.


New Release: Twilight Madhouse Vol.1: My post about a new horror anthology featuring 10 stories, including my short piece “Achievement Unlocked.”

“Gate” Crashing: My rant on using the suffix -gate for scandals.

Writing Ideas: My tips and tricks when trying to get the creative juices flowing.

Reality Bites Book Awards: I was nominated in four different categories.

Rough Writing: I reminisce about a difficult lesson learned.

Morning Routine of a Non Best-Selling Author: It’s exactly as it sounds.

Reviews, Reviews, Reviews: I discuss the latest reviews for my book The Selection.

Review Circles for Authors: I’ve started a Facebook group for authors to give and receive reviews.

Tools of the Trade: A nice discussion about the hardware and software I use to write.

Forgetting to Remember: My terrible problem with remembering names.

Dirty Dish Philosophy: Lessons learned from washing dishes.

5 Posts for Indie Authors: 5 blog posts I thought were informative to the indie authors of the world.

Flash Fiction – “Zombie Says”: I offered a free story for you the reader!

Author Spotlight – Greg Alldredge: An interview with scifi author Greg Alldredge.

Review – “Fire Eyes Awakened”: My review of R.J. Batla’s new book.

“Self To Younger Self, Come in”: Words of wisdom I’d share with my younger self.

Review – “Twilight Madhouse Vol.1”: My review of the horror anthology with my story “Achievement Unlocked” in it.

10 Things Learned Since I Started Writing: As the title implies, 10 lessons learned since I started this journey.

Reality Bites Book Awards – Final Round: I made it to the final round in the category of “Sci-Fi Author.”

Giving Back: I strongly believe I need to give back to other writers in any way I can.

Eclipse Comic Con Recap: I attended an awesome event and met new friends.

Upcoming Events: A list of all the places you can find me in the next few months.

Just Finish Already!: Get that story out of your head and on the screen.

Indie Comic Creator – Todd Black: A super talented creator of indie comics I met at the Eclipse Comic Con.

Musical Inspiration: How music inspires my writing.

Sacrifice for Greatness: What are you willing to sacrifice in order to be great?

Choose Wisely: Important decisions can lead to lasting consequences.

Author Spotlight – Pamela Morris: My interview of Pamela Morris, an excellent horror author you should know.

“The Selection” – Chapter 1 Preview: I offer the entire first chapter of my novel The Selection.

Youthful Dreaming: When I was younger, I really, really wanted to be Spider Man.


 

I hope you’ve enjoyed my month of madness. When you have time, please check out the posts from this past month and please consider clicking “like,” commenting, or sharing whatever interests you.

Thanks for your support!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The Selection” – Chapter 1 Preview

PrintMy book The Selection has received some amazing reviews and I’m so pleased readers are connecting with the story. If you’ve not had a chance to read what earned me a nomination (and win!) for best SciFi Author in the Reality Bites Book Awards, here’s the entire first chapter to test drive my fast paced, action-filled story. I hope you enjoy it!


 

Mina giggled. Eron ran across the playground. “Mina, I love you! Will you be my girl? You’re so beautiful–” He tripped on a rock and face planted on the red soil. When he stood, Mina had fallen over with laughter.

“Aw, come on Mina, that’s not funny!”

“Yeah it is! Look at you!” She pointed at his shirt, stained red.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said.

They were on morning recess, expending boundless energy while teachers relaxed. The children were more excited than usual at the long siren blast indicating the Selection was underway.

“Ten years from now when you turn eighteen, it’s gonna be your turn at the Selection,” Mina said. She held out her hands with fingers splayed. “Ten!” she said.

“Yeah? So what? It’s how we become men,” Eron replied. He puffed out his chest and Mina giggled again.

“Don’t kill anyone, though, ’cause that’s bad.”

Eron cocked his head. “Why would I do that?”

Mina’s grin faded. “‘Cause that’s what you gotta do. I don’t want you to, though.” She approached him, her red curls bouncing with each step. “I kinda like you, too, Eron,” she whispered in his ear as she kept walking. His face turned as red as the Anastasian sun. The bell rang and the children ran for the school doors.

At the afternoon recess, Mina gathered with a group of her friends, all girls. Eron considered joining the group, but so many girls together at once intimidated him. Instead, he sat by himself and watched the other students playing. There were more boys than girls in his school. After the Selection, however, he knew that would change. Afterwards there were always more adult females than males.

“Why aren’t you with Mina?” a voice behind Eron called. It was Bello. He liked the larger boy, even though he tended to be mean.

“Oh, hey Bello. I don’t know. She’s with her friends. I don’t wanna bother her.”

Bello sat next to him, his large frame casting a shadow over Eron. “So what? Are you scared? Don’t be a baby.”

“Shut up, Bello! Just drop it, ok?”

“I heard you tell her you loved her. Oooh, you love her, don’t ya, Eron?” Bello stood. “Hey Mina,” he called. Mina and her friends looked over. Eron shoved his face in his hands. “Mina, did you know Eron loves you? He loooooves you!”

Mina’s friends laughed.

“Be quiet, Bello! Don’t say anything!” Eron said.

“Eron loves Mina! Eron loves Mina!” Bello sang. Mina’s friends laughed, and others on the playground joined in.

“Come on now, stop laughing. Bello, please stop. You’re embarrassing him,” Mina said. Bello laughed harder.

“No, I’m not. Look,” he said, pointing at Eron. Eron shook, veins pulsing on his forehead.

“You’re not embarrassed, are you?” Bello asked. Eron looked up, his eyes red and glistening. He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped.

“Seriously, Mina, he loves you!” Bello said.

Eron faced Bello, the larger boy standing a head taller than him. “Shut. Up.”

“But it’s the truth.”

Eron clenched his fists.

“What, are you gonna hit me?”

“Eron, please. No violence. You don’t need to do anything. It’s ok,” Mina said, her calm voice soothing to Eron.

“Yeah, you don’t need to do anything,” Bello said, mocking her. Eron turned and walked calmly away.

“That’s it, Eron, walk away like a coward,” Bello said.

Eron ignored his taunts and left the playground, Mina trailing after him.

“Hey,” she said. He’d made it to the school doors and stopped.

“What?” he replied.

“Don’t worry about Bello. He’s just a bully. No one thinks bad about you. Promise.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Eron, I do like you. Don’t let him get to you.”

The boy paused, then grasped the door handle and left her standing outside.

That was the last time he spoke with her during grade school. Other than an occasional smile and a hi, he couldn’t muster enough courage to talk to her.

Bello’s taunts continued and intensified. They were separated several times on the playground, Bello nearly beating up the smaller boy each time. Mina tried to intervene, but her actions seemed to make it worse. Whatever she said to Bello didn’t help Eron.

By the time they reached high school, Eron’s crush on Mina deepened.

“Why don’t you just try talking to her?” his close friend Connor asked. He’d known Connor since they were little, but they didn’t begin to hang out until eighth grade. As freshmen, they’d become best friends.

They sat in Eron’s room playing chess.

“I can’t, Connor. Not now.”

“Why not? She’s just a person like me. You talk to me. Why not her?”

Eron shrugged. “It’s different. She’s a girl and you’re not.” Connor sighed.

A loud siren blared.

The Selection had begun.

Eron jumped. “Timo!” he said. His older brother Timo was now eighteen, old enough for inclusion in the Selection. He’d been anxious about the event, and now the sirens called him to action.

Eron and Connor raced from the room, nearly slamming into Timo.

“Timo, it’s time,” Eron said. His brother looked at him with wide eyes, a blank expression on his face.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Goodbye, Eron. I’ll see you when you get there.”

Their mom hugged her older son. “Goodbye, son. Be safe. Do what you must. You can do this. Don’t forget your knife.” She kissed his cheek and he nodded.

Timo marched out the door and fell in line with the rest of the boys.

“Sorry, Connor, I gotta go,” Eron said. He sprinted after his brother.

“Timo! Wait! Wait up!”

His brother didn’t turn around. Eron followed as far as he could until the soldiers in gray uniforms forced him back, telling him to go home.


 

You can get The Selection on Amazon for only .99 through the end of August. Get your copy today!

AugSaleBlack

 

Author Spotlight: Pamela Morris

Today I’m fortunate to present Pamela Morris author of the horror novel No Rest For The Wicked.


Hi Pamela, thanks for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

Thanks for having me, Jason. My background is pretty mundane. I grew up in the Finger Lake region of Upstate NY in a town with a population of less than 2000. I have two grown children and am on Husband #2 with whom I just celebrated our 1st anniversary on August 27. I love crows and ravens, miniatures, motorcycles, fake food, and all things paranormal.

 

How long have you been writing?

I’ve been writing and making books for as long as I’ve been able to write! The earliest document I have dates back to 1974 so I would have been eight at the time. It’s nothing more than a thin, spiral notebook that I drew pictures in and labeled each picture. The odd part of it is, I broke it down into specific subjects like people, foods, houses, etc. and finished it off with a full table of contents.

 

What inspired you to start writing?

I think writing is in my blood. My mother worked in a library for almost thirty years, which is the same library I work in now. Books were everywhere for me growing up. I have several ancestors who were writers. My great, great grandmother kept a diary for over 25 years and wrote in it almost every day, up until about ten days before her death. Another great grandmother kept a travel journal when she made a trip out to Ohio to visit with family. One of my great uncles wrote a children’s story. In fact, the first story I wrote (and illustrated) was a children’s book called “Bill: The Worm Who Ran Away”. I was all of nine. At ten I wrote my first ghost story, “The Strange Well”.

 

Tell us a little bit about your current project. Is it a novel, short story, or something else? Is it part of a series?

I’m in the very early stages of my next novel. It’s part two of a two-part series called “The Witch’s Backbone”. These two novels are part of my Barnesville Chronicles. The Chronicles center around the small town of Barnesville and the surrounding towns where many strange things happen. The first two are murder-mysteries, but “The Witch’s Backbone” is more about a local urban legend, how it came to be, and whether any of it is real or not.

 

What genre do you prefer to write in, if any?

Though I was first published in the erotica market, I tossed that all aside about six years ago and dove into my first and greatest love of Horror and paranormal Murder-Mysteries. I love anything that has that Twilight Zone, Outer Limits feel to it.

 

What authors influenced you?

Believe it or not, Carolyne Keene was a huge influence. I was a massive Nancy Drew Mysteries fan. Later, I grew to love Stephen King, Bram Stoker, Wilkie Collins, Tanith Lee, Shirley Jackson and Anne Rice. Tanith Lee probably sparked my writer’s imagination the most, though, with her short story collection, “Red As Blood” which is all about very, very twisted fairytales. I love those things and her writing style is incredibly unique.

 

What are you currently reading?

I’m reading “The Selection” by this guy named Jason J. Nugent. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? Haven’t gotten too far into it just yet, but liking it so far. I’m also listening to Dean Koontz’s “77 Shadows Street” on audiobook.

 

Do you write every day? A few days per week?

In my dreams, I’d write every day. That doesn’t happen. I shy away from writing after work unless there’s a particularly powerful scene going on. I want to be on my best game when I sit down to write. I try and spend a few hours on my weekend mornings, otherwise.

 

Do you listen to music when you write? Does it influence how you write?

I’ve discovered I am most productive when I have the Blues on. I think it’s because I find the Blues very emotional to listen to. It’s something you feel deep inside you and when I write, that’s what I am trying to get across to my readers, not just the plot, but the emotions my characters are going through, good or bad.

 

How do you think your writing has changed from when you first started?

Well, I’m 40+ years older now than I was then, so… But seriously, I’ve gone back and read my earlier stuff, and I think I’ve become a lot better at description. I’ve grown better at SHOWING my readers what it going on, instead of just TELLING them a story. I am much better at incorporating all the senses into a scene and placing my readers right there with the characters. I want my readers to feel like they are participating in the action and experiencing whatever is going on.

 

NoRestHow do you create the covers for your books?

The covers for The Barnesville Chronicles were all designed by my husband and myself. At first, I’d just draw up a quick pencil sketch of what I had in mind and give it to him, then he’d work his creative magic on the computer. Now, I’ve learned a bit of the program he uses and can create a much better jumping off point for him to finish up. He fine tunes it and makes it into something that works. The cover for “No Rest For The Wicked” was created by the publisher with a few suggestions and ‘must-haves’ from me.

 

Are there any non-literary influences for your writing (movies, actors, music, etc)?

Definitely! I grew up being enthralled by Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone and Night Gallery programs. Love Alfred Hitchcock Presents… along with the In Search Of… series hosted by Leonard Nemoy. The 1963 horror movie “The Haunting” based on Shirley Jackson’s novel “The Haunting of Hill House” is my all-time favorite scary movie. I also grew up always believing in ghosts, something my grandmother instilled in me. She was also the person who first introduced me to the Ouija Board.

 

Where can we purchase your current book? What about previous books?

No Rest For The Wicked is available on Amazon in both paperback and eBook. You can also find it at Kobo Books. Secrets of the Scarecrow Moon and That’s What Shadows Are Made Of can be found on Amazon, too.

Where can we find you online?

My website is www.pamelamorrisbooks.com. I post a weekly blog and have some freebie short stories posted there along with links and info on all my novels, even the erotica, if you’re brave enough to go down that dark avenue. I’m @pamelamorris65 on Twitter and over on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/PamelaMorrisBooks/. If you’re intent on a thorough stalking, I can also be found over at Goodreads, https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/908656.Pamela_Morris

 

What is your favorite book and why?

Oh, jeeze. That’s impossible to answer! I love so many for different reasons. Tanith Lee’s “Red As Blood” stands out because through it I was first introduced to the concept of taking a common fairytale and turning it into something bizarre and almost unrecognizable from the original. Certain parts of Shirley Jackon’s “We Have Always Lived In The Castle” apparently stuck into my head a lot more than I realized which only just occurred to me when I was enjoying it the second time around a few months ago. But, if you go by the book I’ve read the most often, that’s Bram Stoker’s classic and unforgettable “Dracula”. I’ve read it no fewer than ten times. Why? Because it’s awesome!

 

How do you market your books?

Mostly on Twitter with the little book ads I post and also through my author page on Facebook and the kindness of those who share my page and any ads I put up. I have done a few signings and sales events and have my books available in a small, local bookstore.

 

Do you have an excerpt from your current work you’d like to share?

Sure. This is from the soon-to-be released third book in The Barnesville Chronicles, “The Witch’s Backbone – The Curse”.

      The square and its fancy gazebo were all well and good, but that was a place Tara went to practically every day. Today, however, was Saturday and Saturday was garbage day and garbage day meant a trip to the county dump with her dad and, in this case, nearly getting her teeth knocked out by the open mouth of her soda bottle.

The station wagon came to a smooth stop as they waited their turn in line behind a pick-up loaded to the gills with bagged trash. Bob Gunderman, who ran the gate and took the dumping fees, was a talker.

“Can I get out here?” Tara asked.

John nodded. “Just don’t go too far. Stay where I can see you.”

“Cool.” She didn’t wait for him to change his mind, not that John ever had in the past, but he knew as well as Tara that her mother would have a fit and fall in it if she knew he was letting Tara run wild, as she called it, among the mountains and pits of trash. The last thing either of them wanted was for Tara to fall into some forgotten mound and get buried alive. That might be a little hard to explain back home to Mom.

“Watch out for the seagulls,” he shouted just before Tara’s door slammed shut.

She gave him a thumbs up in reply.

The results of last night’s storm squished under the rubber soles of her boots, sucking and splatting her way to where the gate attendant leaned against the battered doorway of the dump station’s shelter, Tara slid on a pair of yellow dishwashing gloves. “Hey, Mr. Gunderman!” She saluted.

He shook his head and chuckled. “Heading in?” he asked, saluting her back with a tip of his Texaco ball cap. When he wasn’t tending to trash, Bob did small engine and appliance repair out of a rusted and lop-sided metal shed set up behind his equally akimbo and well-maintained mobile home. They’d passed on the left, halfway up the road. Tara suspected he got a lot of parts from the dump.

“Yes, sir. Got anything good this week?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a treasure or two. Stay clear of the back west though, it’s been shifting a lot lately.”

“Ten-four, good buddy.” She strode past the pick-up truck, ducked under the wooden security arm that had probably been white once, but now was more a mottled grey-green, and made her way into the refuse-littered landscape beyond.

It stank. It stank a lot, especially after last night’s rain, but it wasn’t anything compared to how it would be once the late August sun rose high and hot. Sometimes John wasn’t so early getting the trash around and that’s when coming here wasn’t as much fun. How Mr. Gunderman could stand it, Tara didn’t know, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You get used to it,” he’d told her once.

The pick-up passed by at a crawl; the side-to-side motion created by each muddy rut threatening to toss one bag or another of garbage out the back end. Tara paused to watch as it made its way around to the left of the ever-growing ring of refuse. In the middle of it all was The Pit, the massive hole in the ground that was slowly being filled. The road circled all the way around The Pit, which was further ringed by a section devoted to dead washing machines, dryers, and refrigerators next to a heap of lawn mowers and a bunch of vacuum cleaners. Another was nothing but discarded tires. A section of small appliances; lamps, toasters, blenders, small radios and record players lay jumbled together in a mound at least six feet high and twenty feet around. There was a vague sense of order to the place. Tara tried to decide what sort of something she wanted to look for today.

She could use a new tape player, but if it was here, chances were it didn’t work and she didn’t know so much about fixing those. Tara wandered off to the right, away from the man and boy hurling bag after bag into The Pit from the truck bed. Their actions had sent the flock of gulls into a dive-bombing, screaming frenzy overhead. Rats with wings, that’s what Mr. Gunderman called them.

“What are sea gulls doing around here anyway?” Tara wanted to know. “We’re not even close to the sea or a lake or anything.”

“There’s Meyer’s Pond,” Bob had offered. “And Miller’s Pond and …”

“Then these are pond gulls,” Tara interrupted with a laugh.

“Or trash gulls. Just rats with wings, Tara. That’s all they are, rats with wings. If there’s a free meal to be ‘et, that’s where they’ll be.”

Strolling from pile to pile, Tara kept an eye out for just about anything. Sometimes there was hidden treasure. Sometimes there was nothing. Today felt like a nothing day. She’d reached the furthest point from the front gates by now. Her dad’s car was parked near the pick-up whose occupants were finally done and climbing back into the cab. Dad only had a few bags so he wouldn’t be long. It hadn’t really been enough time to look the place over very well, but Tara could always ride her bike up to come back later in the week. Maybe she could even get a friend to come with her. Maybe Danny as long as it was just him and not his annoying brother or, God forbid, his whiney girlfriend, Susan; not Sue, not Susie, but Susan.

With her hands on her hips, Tara looked out across the piles towards the slope of weeds that ended abruptly with a thick line of shrubs and Birch trees a couple hundred feet out. The wind, thank God, was blowing in her favor, lifting the feather of her bangs off her forehead just enough to feel a tiny bit cooler. Something moved along the tree line. It was low and slow and brown. Probably a deer. Nah, too dark to be a deer, she immediately determined. Not much else could have been seen this far away. Its back was hunched up, pausing as it maybe nibbled on some grass or wild berries along its path. Maybe it was a bear. A bear would be a lot more exciting to see than a deer. Whatever it was pivoted, displayed a flash of dark brown or black fabric and a feather on top of its head and stopped. Tara’s jaw dropped. She saw its eyes, small, black, and glistening, staring right at her.

It wasn’t a bear. As Tara turned to run as fast as possible back to the station wagon, she prayed it wasn’t what she thought it was. If it was, she was as good as dead.

 

If you’re an indie author, what made you choose that route?

My first murder-mystery was accepted and released by a publisher, but a mere six months after the release, they went out of business. That was a huge punch to the gut. After a year of searching for another publisher and with readers of the first book hounding me about getting a second one out, I gave in and decided to self-publish. I got a lot of encouragement from a fellow writer in regards to “No Rest For The Wicked” so when I saw HellBound Books accepting manuscripts, I sent it out, even though I’d already released it myself six month earlier. They took it in and gave it a new home, so I’m pretty happy about that. I’ll continue to put out my Barnesville Chronicles myself as they are just too near and dear to my heart to hand over to anyone else at this time.

 

Any parting words for writers?

First, don’t write about what’s popular right now, chances are whatever the current fad is today, will be fading away by the time you get that novel done. Instead, write what speaks to you. Tell the stories that come to you in your daydreams, or nightmares, whichever the case may be. Second, listen, truly listen, to the characters that approach you out of nowhere. Tell their stories. They won’t always go where you think they should, so follow them along and try to keep up as best you can. Lastly, don’t worry about that first draft being a mess, just get the story down as fast as you are capable of doing. Tell the story first. Fix the mess it will be after.

 

Sacrifice for Greatness

Nothing worthwhile has ever occurred without tremendous effort and sacrifice. You must be able to set aside your “wants” and make it happen.

Anyone’s who has ever wanted to be a writer, a musician, or an athlete cannot attain greatness without some sort of sacrifice.

I’ve heard time and time again from would-be writers that they want to write. Ok, well do it! You cannot call yourself a writer if all you do is wish to be one. Add pen to paper, scribble a word, and add more. Sit at your computer and type those glorious words one after another. Those are what begin to make you a writer.

guitar-1837044_960_720Learning to play an instrument isn’t easy. Figuring out chords, notes, and timing takes…well, time. You have to practice a lot. There’s no other way around it. Wishing to be a musician doesn’t make it happen.

You must do something in order to achieve these goals. You must get up off your chair and lift weights if you intend on improving your physical strength. You must go out and run if you intend on improving your cardio health. Sitting down and wanting to do these things doesn’t make them happen. Actually doing them does.

runners-373099_960_720In order to achieve any of this, you must be willing to sacrifice something. All of these take time. So instead of playing video games, lift weights. Instead of sleeping in late, you have to get up early to write that story. Instead of watching television, you should practice your scales.

Time is both finite and infinite. We as humans only have so much of it, limiting what we can do with it. How you chose to spend your time will dictate how successful you are in your endeavors. You must be willing to give up whatever time you dedicated to doing nothing to activities that will get you closer to your goal.

Wanting to do something is one thing, but putting your actions into play–actually giving an effort into it–will get you closer to your dreams. Doing so means not doing something else. That’s the sacrifice required to achieve your goals.

How willing are you to let go of what’s holding you back? You’ll be amazed at the results when you are willing to give up your fleeting entertainment in order to focus on your dreams.