I've Been a Published Author for a Year!

Last year, The Golden Sky came out on November 18th--Zeke's birthday. This has been an amazing journey. From new-found friends, the kindness of strangers, signings and other events, this has been one of the best years of my life.

    I posted a video exactly a year ago. My feelings remain the same.

So to honor Zeke, The Golden Sky as well as Bible Girl & the Bad Boy, will be available for FREE download all day November 18th. 

 
This is also a great time to download these since the final book in the Golden Sky Trilogy will be released early on Black Friday.
    
    Thanks again for everything.  I have a special post ready for tomorrow. I hope you'll come back then.  I promise it won't make you cry. It's about a miracle and a stranger I met the other day.

The Zombie Elf & a Turncoat

Poor little Zombie Elf. He finally woke up from the anesthesia yesterday, and I brought him home. He felt dizzy and stumbled whenever he tried walking. After a while, he gave up and eventually rested on the couch. "I'm tough," he croaked. "I didn't even cry."
    "I know, buddy," I said. "You're amazing. They made you sleep for over two hours and you're the toughest little Zombie ever!" 
    Another voice whispered near him. I realized Doctor Jones, my two-year-old girl, had gotten onto the other side of the couch. She frowned, snatched a blanket and bawled. "I sick. I sick, Mama."
    "Ummm . . . no you aren't." I played with one of her brown curls before turning back to the Zombie.  "What makes you so brave?" I asked my boy.
    "I'm the bravest kid," he strained, wheezing, then coughed.  I held him close and smoothed his hair back.  "Mama, can you tell me why I'm so brave? I'm tired of talking. It hurts."
    So I told him what he tells me nearly every morning. "You're brave because YOU pet a real shark in California. YOU wear crocodile-skin boots. YOU don't even cry when you go to the dentist.  YOU'RE the bravest of the brave. YOU'RE the toughest of the tough. The cutest of the cute. YOU'RE the Zombie Elf!!!"
    He nodded proudly, then closed his eyes. He didn't even smile because that's a serious mantra. 
      

    "I SICK!" Doctor Jones wailed, quite disgruntled at that point. You'd think the Zombie's surgery was harder on her than him.

    "Shhh, honey. The Zombie needs me."
    She stuck out her bottom lip. That child has rosy cheeks, dark brown curls that go down her back, and a sassy attitude that never ends.  "I am sick," she pouted, folding her arms.
    When the Zombie Elf fell asleep, I moved over to Doctor Jones. "Baby, you're sick? Really?  Where does it hurt."
    "My toes."
    "Your toes?  Where else?"

    "Ummm. . . . My fingers?"

    "How about your eyelashes?"
    "Yeah!" she said blinking.
    "I have just the thing," I said and playfully scampered up the stairs to get a small bowl of water and a cottonball.
    When I headed back downstairs, I had to lean against the wall and smile. Doctor Jones had woken the Zombie. "It's okay. I make you better." She danced around in the stilted way all two-year-olds do.  She patted his forehead, held his hand. Sang and sang.  I cleared my throat and when Doctor Jones saw me, she froze for a moment, then sprinted to her side of the couch, and pulled a blanket over herself. "I sick," she groaned. I could just hear her thoughts. That wasn't what it looked like, Mama. I swear!
    "Do you need to go to the Doctor?" I asked her.
    "Yeah, Mama."
    The Zombie Elf's eyes widened. "No, Doctor Jones. They might do this to you."
    "That's good," Doctor Jones said. "I brave. I not scared of nothin'."
    "Wow, you really are tough," my Zombie whispered. Then he gathered enough strength to tell her his mantra, except this time it changed just a little.  "Doctor Jones, you're the bravest of the brave. The toughest of the tough. The cutest of the cute. You're my little sister!" 
    Doctor Jones giggled with pure joy. "I funny," she said. "I really not sick, Zombie.  I just brave."       

    Thanks to everyone for your prayers. I'm so thankful my boy is feeling a little better today. The Zombie Elf is sleeping right now and Doctor Jones is still watching over him. She hasn't left his side for even a second.    Also, thank you, Janie, for mentioning Homeless in Hawaii on your blog today. That means so much.

Christmas Anthology Publication & Great Prizes

Here's the Christmas Anthology I was published in.

  It was just released. So to celebrate, they're having a

Christmas Lites Happy Holiday Giveaway!

Grand prize

Print copy of Christmas Lites and Christmas Lites II

$25 dollar Amazon gift card

Angel Ornament

 

Other prizes:

eCopy of Carnival of Fear – JG Faherty author of The Burning Time

eCopy of Violet Midnight by Lynn Rush

eCopy of Awaited by Lynn Rush

eCopy of Wasteland by Lynn Rush

2 eCopies of The Priest by Monica La Porta

eCopy of The Golden Sky by EC Stilson

eCopy of Sword of Senack by EC Stilson

10 eCopies of Family Magic by Patti Larsen

eCopy of short story Prophecy’s Child by Tish Thawer

2 angel ornament made by Misty Baker

3 eCopies of Ranger’s Tale by Mysti Parker

3 eCopies of Serenya’s Song by Mysti Parker

Set of ebooks (Just Nonsense, More Nonsense and True Nonsense) by Melynda Fleury

Print copy of End of Mae by Angela Yuriko Smith

eCopy of End of Mae by Angela Yuriko Smith

Paperback copy of HEART Animal Rescue Anthology

2 Paperback copy of Christmas Lites II

  a Rafflecopter giveaway    

Prayers for the Zombie Elf

My four-year-old (the Zombie Elf) is having a surgery this morning. :( The poor kid. They have to sedate him for nearly two hours. I'm scared since this is so close to Zeke's birthday.  Would you pray for him?

Also, I'd like to thank Petty Witter for the wonderful review. You can read that HERE.

Official Cover Reveal for Homeless in Hawaii

The official cover is finally here! I'm so excited for this to be released on 12/10/12. I've been working on this book for a very long time.

Click Picture  to include on your Goodreads TO READ List

A Reviewer Who Changed My Life--JL Whitehead of The Examiner

At the beginning of 2012, I heard about a reviewer who works for The Examiner. "JL Whitehead is very honest when he reviews books," a fellow author told me. "But if he gives you a good review, it can help your career immensely."    I looked him up online and was very impressed. He had helped so many authors' careers, just by reviewing their books.  I took a chance, bit my nails, and contacted him through Facebook. 
    I knew very little about promotion at the beginning of this year. I'd never done a book signing. I'd mostly promoted online.
    JL Whitehead kindly wrote back saying he had quite a list of books ahead, but that he would review mine in time.  Just over a month later, he read my book and was ready to write the review. He just needed some pictures of me at a signing to put at the top of the article.
    I panicked because I'd never even BEEN to a signing--let alone had one for my books. But this was a chance to be reviewed by JL Whitehead!  I had to think fast.    
   My mind raced to The REad Cat Bookstore in Clearfield, UT. Through this bookstore, many children developed a love of reading. Residents realized they could still afford to buy quality books.  The place had the most helpful staff and wonderful selection of new and used literature.
    I called and asked to speak with the owner.
    "Hello, this is the owner, Eric," a kind-sounding man replied.
    "I need your help, Eric. I'm a struggling author. I finally got a chance to be reviewed by The Examiner, but the journalist needs pictures of me at a signing."
    He understood immediately. And although he had nothing to gain, he generously helped me and never asked for anything in return.  He gave me a signing that very day and taught my daughter how to take pictures during the event--she'll never forget his kindness.  
    "Why did you do this for me?" I asked, surrounded by people he'd invited to the event.
    "Because, it feels good helping others. And I read the back of your book about your son who passed away. What you wrote will help people someday."

  (I'm on the left. Melynda Fleury's on the right.)  This was nother signing at The REaD Cat Bookstore shortly before it went out of business.       

I sent the pictures to Mr. Whitehead as soon as I got home. He posted the review shortly after and what he wrote touched my heart. You can read his review HERE.  

    That review and signing marked the beginning of all the success I've had this year. I drew the attention of big-name authors. I was able to make connections that got me a signing at Barnes and Noble and other helpful stores.  But none of this would have happened without JL Whitehead. He believed in my writing enough to promote it more than I'd ever hoped. He (inadvertently) inspired me to land my first signing.  Because of him my writing has reached more readers than I'd ever hoped.

    This post is to thank JL Whitehead. I'd also like to say that if you need a thorough, honest review, he's the person to contact. 

JL Whitehead of The Examiner reviews and promotes the works of authors. He also handles projects that entail proofreading, editing and ghostwriting.

www.fourbrotherspublications.com

How to write a query letter to a publisher

   I'm now officially an editor/part owner of Wayman Publishing--which is an amazingly exhausting experience. I've been reading query after query, and manuscript after manuscript. At first I cried when I sent rejections--probably because I'm so freakin' empathetic AND tired. But now if there's the slightest typo, or it doesn't grab my attention, I know it'll get rejected.
    I've probably been rejected more than any of these people. I know how bad it can hurt, and I hate doing that to others.
    Knowing that, how can you write a successful query letter?

     Step one: Spell check is your friend.  
I've received many letters with spelling errors. Several of these were great queries trying to address Wayman personally about what they like about our company. But typos littered the personal addresses.  
    Utilizing spell check--and the power of patience--may help your query make it to round two (a request to read some of your manuscript).

    Step two: Have other people read your query for typos and sentence structure. Since spell check doesn't have an artificial intelligence option, other people can really help you. Even the best writing can be improved. 
    Misplaced modifiers, dangling participles and other such fun terms can be weeded out by the right person.

    Step three: Imagine you're the reviewer/editor.

Let me tell you something quickly before explaining step three.
    As written above, by some crazy turn of fate I am now a reviewer/editor. After receiving hundreds of queries, Wayman has only offered contracts for three books. 

    Reading this much has made me understandably tired.

    My husband's out of town again. And taking care of four kids--by myself for days and days--can get pretty wild. I locked myself in the shower on Monday and sang LOUD show tunes--just to get a five minute sanity-break from my army of chocolate-covered children.
    Two nights ago, my toddler woke up almost every hour.  At one point, I had a lucid dream about my left eye turning red, so dry the red part grew scales, and I could no longer blink. 
    Keeping that all in mind, back to step three.

    Imagine you're me--the reviewer/editor. You're so tired you're dreaming about scaly eyes. You're editing three books simultaneously. You don't have much time for hundreds of queries.      
    Now think about your pitch.
    What can you say about your manuscript that will grab a reviewer's attention? It better be amazing because you only have a few seconds to hook them.  Write something that will wake us up and get us excited about the project.
    It sucks sending out rejections.  I personally could line my entire house with rejection letters I've received.  Now, after rereading my own queries, I know why.  They weren't hitting the enticing key points of my stories.  And I might have queried someone like me who has little time. In hindsight, I gave editors no reason to take a chance by requesting some of my MS. 

...It SUCKS worse than Monica Lewinsky.
(Sorry. I had to go there on Election Day.)  

   Step four: Become a salesperson. You're selling them your book. Why should they spend time and money on your writing? For example, Wayman pays for EVERYTHING. If your name isn't well-known, you NEED to give us a good reason to take an interest in your story. What's the most unique/amazing/wonderful thing about your MS? Do you have a platform you can brag about?

   Step four is a big deal. Too often authors don't view themselves as hard-working professionals worth the time and effort a publisher will take getting a MS ready for publication. If you have something worth being published, sell it with all your heart in that query letter. 

To my amazing blog family,
    I feel terrible that I haven't been able to comment on as many blogs as I normally do.  I've actually been reading posts on my phone while I'm running errands (waiting for the baby to get antibiotics, getting the car fixed, standing in line for a LARGE energy drink).  Those posts I read made me smile and helped me make it through the day. After reviewing endless queries--that keep piling up--I've needed to smile and read about your fantastic lives.   
    Anyway, it's crazy working so much on top of feeling like a single mom. I'm also finishing up my book, Homeless in Hawaii (coming out in December). I'm not sure how I'll keep writing manuscripts like I used to. My life's shifting. Editing and reviewing is taking every bit of free time that I have. 

    Please know that I wish I could read and comment more. Maybe I've bitten more than I can chew. For now I'm doing the best I can and hoping at least some of my endeavors will pay off in the long run.

  Closing I hope this advice has helped someone. I'm going to take a nap!

What a scam!

I've received a lot of spam emails lately. The funniest one involved a man claiming to be a rich businessman from Europe. The email started quite sweetly. He said he was old and had no family, so he'd decided to give his entire life's saving as an inheritance to a person at a random email address--mine. 

I could get the money if I simply sent him $200 for taxes . . . or something.  

    What's the worst scam/spam email you've ever heard of?

Pictures of the Hippie and the Scribe

The Scribe is growing up.

 

My very blonde Hippie saw herself in the mirror on Halloween and said, "Oh my . . . you've turned me into a black-head!"

On Halloween, I promptly sent both of these pictures to their grandmother. The Hippie--who's all about technology AND her grandma--breathlessly read the response on my phone.

You look like Cleopatra, the Queen of the Nile!

She was very famous and was the Queen of her country--Egypt.

She ruled without a king for many years!

Hope you get lots of good candy tonight.

 

    Right after that, the Hippie tucked her long black hair over her shoulders. She visibly transformed into a ruler--an empress. A group of unfortunate families knocked. The Hippie swung open the door and leered at those peasants.
    "Hello," she swept her jeweled hand through the air and bowed. "What may I do for you?" She pointed at each of them.
    "Ummm. We're here for some candy?"
    "Trick or Treat?" another kid said, nearly quivering in the face of Cleo's glory.
    "Yes," the Hippie said. "I guess I will give you some candy THIS time."
    One of the parents suddenly asked, "Who are you anyway?"
    The Hippie looked right into his eyes, still giving out candy since queens can multitask, and said to that bulky man, "Why, I'm Cleopatra, the queen of Egypt. And I ruled for many years without a man."  
    His face paled--for he knew asking such a question must have been sinful. As soon as they'd collected their candy penance, they scurried down the stairs and never came back.

    In other news, for a hilarious post about shoe porn, please go HERE.

    Also, I'm going to be in two more anthologies this holiday season. I'm pretty excited.

   Isn't this cover beautiful?

More info coming soon.

I Was Published in a Humorous Anthology!

I'm so thrilled to be in this anthology. My story is called Caffeine and Boobs--and Bauu Press thought it was funny enough to publish! I'm ecstatic because the other authors in this anthology are hilarious and quite well-known.
    Stepping down from cloud nine now . . . 
    If you're looking for something humorous and affordable, check this one out.  It's only 2.99 for a limited time. Plus, if you get this book you'll find out if caffeine can really make your boobs swell.
    Go HERE to read an excerpt.

Texting Can Make You Feel Younger

Most of you know Melynda from Crazy World. She's sweet AND hilarious--a combination God rarely allows on Earth. That woman could draw a smile from anyone because she's just funny. So when she asked me to teach her daughter piano, I was thrilled. She made one condition on the arrangement though. "Text me every Wednesday, so I won't forget about her lessons."

"No problem," I said, and that was the beginning of the biggest misunderstanding the world has ever known.

Everyone's heard horror stories about texting; how it can make you walk into manholes; how you can get mangled in a car wreck; how you can get a break-up message if you make the wrong move in a relationship.  I'd heard about the nightmarish things that can happen, but I didn't listen until things went awry for me personally. 
    I'd been texting Melynda for TWO YEARS. Things had gone well; she always responded with hilarious things and I loved it. 

    "Lessons are today," I'd text.

    "I still don't play the piano."

    "I know.  HA. HA," I'd respond.  "That's why we need to get you some lessons too."

    "So how are you today?  I haven't talked to you all week," I texted.

    "We're great."  I smiled because we'd had some pretty funny texting sessions over the past years.  I actually looked forward to Wednesday. 

    As I sat there grinning, my phone beeped with that happy little jingle I'd set.  I looked at the screen on my phone and blinked hard.  The message made no sense.  I read it twice . . . three times.  "I'm a hard one to convince," the words shot out at me.  "But I've decided to take you up on your offer.  I want to take piano lessons.  Really, I just want to meet you in person."

    What???  Didn't we see each other all the time!

    "HA. HA," I texted back.  "Sometimes you get me rolling, Mel."

    "This isn't, Mel.  I didn't know how to tell you.  I tried at first, but then didn't want to ruin things . . .  My name is Brian and I think I'm in love with you."

    It must have been a joke.  After all, Mel is one funny lady.  So I hurried to her house and thank God she was there.  I showed her the last few texts.  "Very funny, woman!" I accused.  "You had me going for a whole sixty seconds.  You really did."

    "That's one Hell of a text session you got there, honey.  Who's it with?"

    "It's with you!"

    Amusement lit her eyes and she started giggling.  "No. What have you done now?"

    I flipped open my phone again.  I did it detective style, like I had a notepad and was preparing to write down some pertinent evidence.  "Fine," I said.  "Is this your number?"  I pointed to the numbers parading on and off my screen and read them.

    "Nope, sunshine.  I think you've been texting the wrong person.  That three is supposed to be a seven.  Looks like you got yourself another piano student."

    "Fine?  You want to play this the hard way?"  I called the number on the phone.  It rang once, twice, but Mel's phone didn't ring.  She held it up toward my face and I looked at her horrified.  Just as someone--a man--answered the phone I hung up.  

    "Why do things like this always happen to me?  Why?" I put my face in my hand.

    She laughed so hard that I thought she'd spit out some of the diet coke she'd just drank. "Only you, my friend.  Only you.  That's so awk--ward."  She sang the last bit and grinned.  "So, what are you going to do?"

    "I have to let him down easy.  I'm married for crying out loud."  I flipped out my phone again--my weapon of choice.  "What the Hell do I say?  He's been a good friend to me?"

    "Tell him you're a man," she sputtered, laughing so hard.

    "He sounded like a big dude.  I don't want to make him mad." I started punching buttons, texting on my phone.  "I'm happily married, really I am.  And it's great that I've sparked your interest for playing the piano.  Hopefully you can find a teacher near you--we're all the same."  Then I hit send.

    "Good for you.  You show 'em."  Mel nodded.

    My phone beeped rather quickly.  "I knew this was a mistake.  I'll think of you every Wednesday," the words read.

    "Good luck with those lessons," I texted back.  "I feel like an idiot!" I said to Mel.

    "It's okay, honey.  On a side note, do you want my real number, just in case you feel like texting someone you know this time?"
    I blushed. "Hey, take it easy. At least I inspired someone to start taking piano lessons!"
    We both laughed, and I had to admit, it was great having her real number this time.

For another AMAZING post about Melynda, please go HERE.