So, I downloaded a couple books onto my phone from Google Play and discovered a whole new meaning to the term 'worst book ever.'

I don't want to name any names but they were from two different writers and they were very similar in their awfulness.
I hate criticizing other people's writing, I really do. It's such a personal thing and everyone does it different and that doesn't make it bad or wrong per se, but let me say that I hated it. They were both the same whereas the sentences were all short, robotic, and there was too much explaining. I can't write out a few sentences from the books here, but I will imitate the writing so you can get my point.

'The hands on the clock pointed to the 3 and the twelve. 3 O'clock. It was time to make supper. David liked to eat the second he got home. I always did my best to have supper ready right at 4 O'clock. He said it was one of the things he loved about me. I'm happy when he is happy so I always start cooking early. I planned to make stuffed chicken breasts. I take the chicken out of the fridge. I get a knife from the drawer and open the plastic wrap. I take out the chicken and place it on the cutting board. Next I take out the cheese and herbs from the fridge. I always use fresh herbs, never dry. It takes me fifteen minutes to make the chicken then forty five minutes to cook, so I will be right on time. While the chicken is cooking I open some wine, and check my phone. I wonder briefly why my mother hasn't called me back yet. Usually she calls me back right away and it has been nearly two hours since I called her and left a voicemail.......'

I think you get the point. It was painful to read. I only bought the first ten chapters of each book and ten chapters ended up being more than enough for me; I have no interest whatsoever of buying the rest of either book. I thought I was detached from my characters because I never write long emotional monologues but these books were a hundred times more distant. It was like having a person's every move dictated to me by Data. No that's not true, because even Data had more personality than these books.  Uuuuuggh.

Anyway, I'm just glad they were both cheap. Although at free, I think I still would have paid too much.

New chapter of AMARANTHINE on Friday, as per usual. See you then.

I am trying to do last minute edits as quickly as possible right now so I can finally, at last, get this book on the market. I had found a small continuity issue a while back but now I can't find it again to fix it and it's very frustrating. I would like to have it done in the next week and send it off to the publisher. Winter is coming and I'm feeling the writing twitch more than I did through the summer. That's how it works for me. I can never just sit and write because I need to but have to wait until the urge strikes and then roll with it. The cold tends to bring the urge. And then 9 months later I'll birth out a brand new baby book.... ugh what a gross image. #birthing a book


Chapter 38 has been published, 10 chapters to go I think, if anyone was wondering. Have a great weekend. And if you've been reading along and noticed a glitch in my timeline or plot please please please let me know before I push the send button and the error gets immortalized in print.

Have you ever been so angry that you could spit nails? That your whole heart is so full of venom that you can't help yourself but to spew really mean nasty shit onto people? It's the one emotion that really causes a person to lose control of their better judgement.  In the moment you don't care about the consequences or the aftermath, all you can see is the red fury of rage that's exploding out of every pore in your body. I can understand why some people have done really awful things when enraged. Not that it makes it o.k, but I can understand. Coincidentally, I felt like that yesterday. Astral feels that now. She has some real anger to figure out over the next little while and sometimes she doesn't handle it very well.

Enjoy the next few chapters, they're doozies. And have a great weekend everybody.

Just got home last night from a little mini vacation on Koocanusa Lake. The family went houseboating, and enjoyed a floating house on the lake for a few days. Hot tubbing, Jet skiing, fishing, swimming, and movies and cards at night. I have to admit, it was pretty nice. Normally I poopoo camping in a trailer as not real camping but it was sure nice to be able to turn on a light switch, get water from a tap and change all the linen with ease when 'the kid' threw up in the middle of the night. Koocanusa lake is warm and clear and has tonnes of fish and sandy coastline.  It was really nice. Even in the rain it was fun.

But I am back and chapter 36 has been posted. This chapter was a bit hard to write because I had to keep asking myself, "what would I think if someone said this to me?" I wanted a really honest response. I think if I was confronted with this story and these facts I would react the way Astral does. Over the next few chapters my interpretation of Vampires and the price and prize of immortality is finally explained. Astral has to live it and she gets to face some real existential crisis. Let the roller coaster begin!

Life has been unusual the last week. First, there is a forest fire very near our house. We can see it burning on the mountain opposite us at night and smoking all day. It's pretty contained and there isn't much real danger but it still feels scary. Second, my dog tackled my legs while I was running and I smashed my phone on the ground, lost everything on it, which really has me bummed, and I hurt myself a little. Dumb dog.  Third, for the first time we are dealing with a major water shortage in our house. The reservoir is very dry and all our neighbours continue to water their grass, so when we turn on our tap to get a drink, wash dishes or bathe there is literally two drips and then nothing. Getting  our own well has skyrocketed to the top of the list of must haves. On a happy note however we have passed the dreaded 'Hay Day' where we have to get a shit load of hay for the horses for the winter and stack it in our shed. It's a hot, dusty, sweaty, itchy, tiring, miserable job that I dread every year, but it's done now and I can be happy again.

Other things have happened or are happening too. We may be getting a third horse, 'The Kid' is turning 2 next week, and I am dreaming up a business plan that may or may not work out. Here's hoping. See you tomorrow for chapter 34.

This chapter always brings a tear, no matter how many times I read it.

Have a great weekend everybody.

I've really noticed lately how distant I am from from my main characters. I don't delve into their minds very often, or have long internal conversations that reveal their deepest emotions and sometimes it comes across as a little cold. I write more as if the reader is watching the book on TV, (I've been told this is wrong wrong wrong, but I can't seem to help it), and I show how the characters are feeling by their actions, facial expressions and tone of voice, and the dialogue they speak rather than by interjecting with an internal voice that describes how anguished, elated or frightened they are. Is this wrong? As I said, I've been told it is. Sometimes it feels distant even to me. The reader may have a harder time feeling connected to the characters or feel removed from the story somehow because of my writing style, but I can't make myself be all emotional on the page. I've never liked long winded internal dialogues, or page after page of explanation. I write as though I am a silent wraith following the characters around and watching their lives unfold before me. I am not within them, but an observer. Mostly I follow Astral, but sometimes I stay behind after she has left a room to see what happens after she leaves. Sometimes I jump from her to Davn to check in on what he is doing. I know what they are thinking because I can see it on their faces or hear it in their voices.

I've mentioned before that I don't like 1st person POV and part of the reason why is probably because of my fear of intimacy with my characters. I don't like being in their heads so much. I am not them, I am just telling their story. My style suits some people, and others not so much and that's OK. I don't think it's wrong per se, just different from the norm.

I have posted this week's chapter, chapter 31, and if you are wondering how much more book there is to go, there are 56 chapters in total. Lots left still, don't worry.

I've been reading a book called White Cat by Holly Black. I'm only about 1/4 of the way through but it's good so far. Not that I have much time to read. I am so busy right now and I keep adding more things to my plate. Updating my resume and job hunting, taking computer courses online to upgrade my MS skills, working in the yard and with the horses, parenting "The Kid" obviously and planning or at least trying to plan a family trip. The heat here the last few weeks has been near unbearable, the internet was down for three days and I'm still working on getting AMARANTHINE into publishing standards.  So ya, reading is definitely on the back burner, but so far I am liking it and it's nice to read a book from a male POV, since books seem to be very heavy on the female POV these days. 


Have a great weekend.

Yesterday, I was struck quite suddenly by how boring real life is. "The Kid" was watching Hotel Transylvania for like the 20th time, and baby Mavis was learning to fly. Her dad encourages her to jump and she turns into a bat and flies away. Everyone is excited, including my toddler. He got a big happy smile on his face and was obviously thrilled at the prospect of turning into a bat and flying away. And I had a pang of sadness. I actually wanted to cry a little bit, because as an adult I know life is way more boring than anything he'll see on TV or read in a book, and I was sad for him. Is that silly?

I know I know, there are lots of terrific things in life. He can parachute, and ride roller coasters, and jump horses, and water ski and any number of fun things blah blah blah, but somehow, it's just not the same. He'll never travel in a time machine, or have a talking pig or a werewolf for a best friend. He'll never take off in a rocket and explore the galaxy, or jump into the air and fly away. I guess that's why books and TV exist; because real life is boring.

Boring jobs, boring commutes, boring meetings, boring dishes, boring laundry.We're all living it. My advice to myself is to get out more. We may never turn into a bat and fly away but we can travel the world in a car or a plane. We can climb a mountain or explore the jungle, (even as I'm saying this I still would rather go somewhere in a time machine) oh well, I guess that's what imagination is for.


****Aaaarrrggh, I want a talking pig!!