WordPlay

Wow, I like that. Impressive sounding!

Yesterday we had thundersnow. Big, cracking lightning, booming thunder muffled by the wall snow.  It struck something nearby, but all the backups kicked in pretty quickly.

For which I’m grateful, because that wall of thundersnow was only the leading edge of the Big Storm that’s hitting so many states this week, and which has now buried us.

Why I'm not practicing agility before the weekend trial...

It's a BOOK!

But the storm crosses the line from reality to conceptual!  Because STORM OF RECKONING is out this week!  Yes!  It’s on the shelves!  Being pretty!  And handsome!

I hope, if you read it, that you enjoy it.  8)  It meant a lot to me to be able to write it.

And also, TOTAL BONUS, I’m guesting over at Terry Odell’s Blog Place this week, and I got to write about Vicarious Wallowing.

Oh, go on.  Go look. You know you want to!

Ha!  Bet that one made you stop and go “whoa!”

The book baby, that’s what!  Storm of Reckoning is only a couple weeks away from the big b/i/r/t/h/ release date!

*does the dance*

I’m getting ready!

• Bookmarks: check
• Cool Contest under way: check
• Reviews trickling in: check and YAY!
• Author copies on the way: check
• Bloggie activities lined up: check
• A smattering of blogs already written!: check (and Go, Me!)
• Party Hat: check!

So what are we missing? Why…yes!  It’s the snippet!
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Sklayne sulked.

Hunted.

My name is Doranna, and I’m a Farscape Fanatic.

Didn’t you know?

Right from the start.

In fact, when the chance came to write an essay about Farscape for BenBella, I leaped at it, and the result is in the book Farscape Forever.

I got my hands on that expensive first release of the first season, but I just couldn’t scrape together the dough for the following seasons, and sadly gave up…until the recent release of the complete series.

It is Way Cool. It is a wonderful indulgent wallow.  I will take it for long sunset walks at the beach, let it sit in front of candlelight dinners, and feed it chocolate.

Or not.  Maybe I’ll just watch it.

Anyway, if you feel as I do and would like to get your hands on this DVD set, have I got a deal for you:

Sign up to get free stuff, and get FREE STUFF.

Or in less cryptic terms, sign up to receive newsletters, bookmarks, and postcards, and enter to win the compete series of Farscape on DVD.

Wuh!

If you’re already on the newsletter list, no biggie–hit the Gimme button over there in the right-hand column (under the book covers) and you’ll have a chance to add your snail address info. Only those entries with both email and snail mail contact information will be eligible.

(And if you’re already on the newsletter AND postcard list, then I love you to pieces, but you still have to head to the Gimme button and get your address synced with your email.)

The contest runs through the end of the month.  Go get ‘em!

Once upon a time, it was so simple. We went into book stores, we cruised the shelves…we plucked , we scanned, we chose…and we walked out clutching our beloved new books.

That option is still available, of course–although more limited, without backlist support or the same wide array of choices.  Bookstore presentation is geared toward those books that are, for whatever reason, perceived as the sure thing.  (Sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy that means the rest of us are not the sure thing…)

Ebook presentation is something else again, and since I’m no pioneer from the reader side of things, I can’t pretend I’m saying anything others don’t already know.  (Well, I could pretend, but we would all know better.)

Backlist ebook presentation is something else again, again.

In the past, publishers pointed us to good reading simply in the way they presented it. Now, even as our choices and buying venues expand, publishers have been shifting that responsibility to new game players:  author and reader.  And circumstances–such as those with our Backlist Ebooks–have done the same.

The author part is obvious. I do my best, without being obnoxious, to let people know my books exist.  The point is to let folks make their own decisions, but boy…if you’ve never tried to ride the line between  bragging and self-promotion…let me tell you, it is a VERY thin line indeed.

Ahem.

“Hey, I think this book really rocks! I think you’ll love it!  BY GOLLY, GO OUT AND BUY IT!”

Or, you know, the other end of the spectrum.

“Here is my book and lo though I am very humble, I wish you would consider buying it, because I desperately need groceries…pleeeeaze?”

Very.  Thin.  Line.

The very difficulty of it makes a case for publisher involvement–that objective third party who declares “Hey, we think this is good enough in which to invest our time and production effort, and then to put our publishing imprint logo on the spine.”

So who’s our objective third party now? And who makes the difference between the books that lie in obscurity and the books that become visible?

Yeah.  Readers. Word of mouth.   Word of review.  Tagging and lists and links and retweets and FaceBook likes and…

Or as He-Man used to say:  I have the POWERRRR!

Um.  So I’ve heard.

Except in this case, it’s, “You have the POWERRRR!”

Although I’m not sure many readers realize just how much power. Because the rest of us…we have to decide what we’re going to read somehow, and we need new resources.  So that’s why I’m reviewing more (on Goodreads,  although I’m casual at best, and I’ll talk more about a book I liked than one I didn’t because I prefer to stick with the positive, and sometimes if I feel I have a conflict of interest I won’t put stars up at all, just mention that I’ve read it).  And I’m tagging, when I’m out and about.

I’m hoping more readers will grab that power. So if you’ve read an ebook you particularly like, think about leaving a review on the site where you bought it; even a few brief words can have a big impact. If you find yourself on Amazon, visit a Kindle title you enjoyed and check off whatever tags seem appropriate to you; this will make the book more visible to other readers who like that type of fiction. And consider retweeting news when it’s convenient, or, you know, just telling a friend…

(Like, wow man.  Real life!)

Influential readers have always been an important component in the success of particular books and authors. If you find yourself happy to have discovered a particular book or author…spread the word!

It’s the one sure thing you can do to increase your chances of getting to read more of the same.

(Oh.  PS:  Backlist Ebooks now has an interim web site! Yaaaaaaay!!!)

This Wednesday Behind the Scenes, it’s total indulgent gratitude.

What the (insert word of your preferred emphasis here), you may wonder, is that?

Well, that’s when you wallow in gratitude for something you didn’t plan but find truly comforting.

It’s a coincidence that the first released Backlist Ebook was A Feral Darkness, which contains a dog who carries traits, physical and behavioral, from two of my dogs–the first and only time I’ve done that. (Contrary to what many people think, mostly authors just make this stuff up.) The dogs? Jag and Jean-Luc Picardigan.

Jag came to me as a pet and with behavioral rehab needs: a developing and inexplicable fear of…well, no one was quite sure what, only that it happened unpredictably and otherwise didn’t suit his personality. He was an incredibly sweet dog, and I had fallen for him on sight, some months earlier, during a cross-country visit with Cheysuli breeder Jennifer Roberson. (Sometimes you really can almost hear that *click*…). He arrived, fit instantly into the household, and was much adored.  I began trying to understand what drove his problems.

Never actually had the chance. Six short weeks after his arrival, a neighbor child released him from my yard. He panicked straight into traffic.

I wanted to write him a better story than that. Eventually, I did.

By then, I had another Cheysuli dog. Jean-Luc’s special child issues were no mystery; he was injured at birth, made vulnerable by an open fontanel, and as a result developed into a deeply autistic dog in nature. Not to mention his subtly asymmetrical forehead!

So pieces of Jean-Luc Picardigan also helped inform Ch. Nuadha’s Silver Druid. Two special dogs, being shared in their own way.

As it happens, I chose A Feral Darkness as the first Backlist Ebook for many reasons.  Then, when I couldn’t find a stock photo I liked for the cover, along came another unplanned development–Jean-Luc’s appearance there (there were no good ones of Jag, and Jean-Luc isn’t actually too far off in coloring).

It’s the total lack of intent behind it all that makes the situation all the more meaningful to me this week. To know I didn’t plan the timing, the cover…the circumstances…and yet I can still look at the book and smile.

So yup. Today I’m feeling grateful for such comforts.  And the indulgence is talking about it, because some of this you’ve already heard, and none of it is probably truly meaningful to anyone but me.

And in that vein, here’s a totally indulgent snippet from A Feral Darkness!  From a book about forgotten gods and rising powers and modern-day potential for plague and one woman trying to figure out exactly what she started with her childhood wish at an inadvertently anchored place of power…this time it’s all about the dog!

Smashwords
Kindle

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“He’s got a lot more white on him than I thought,” Elizabeth admitted, pausing in her own work.

Or than Brenna had thought. No way, under the mud, to see how broad his blaze was, how symmetrically it encompassed his muzzle, narrowed just enough to miss his eyes, and broadened again at his forehead. Or to see the dark freckles on the bridge of his nose, or how richly his brown cheek patches stood out against the black on the rest of his head. He had a white bib and undercarriage, and except for brown points, a white tail tip, and a jagged white collar, the rest of him was sleek black. Black, aside from his ears. The interior of one was stark white; the other light brown.

But it was the backs of those huge ears that were so beguiling, mostly white with thick brown freckles. Utterly unexpected, utterly charming.

And his eyes. Coming from a clean face, they looked softer, more open. Big love-me eyes that followed her every movement.

But he’s somebody else’s dog.

It’s first draft mode around here (Nocturne Demon Blade series, book 2!), but I’m still poking away at the Backlist Ebook projects.

<= Bet you’ve guessed what I’m working on now.

Touched by Magic was my third book sold,  and the second to see print.  I had a really, really  clear idea what I wanted to do with this book–and no idea at all of how ambitious it was.

I’m glad, actually, that I just barged right in way back then.  I might not have the temerity, now that I’m more eddie-cated about the craft and about publisher expectations.

Anyway, I’m taking the opportunity to give it a good updating.  (More on that in another blog, I think.)  And since it’s the oldest book file on my system, the conversion process itself is…challenging.  This gives me time to ponder the cover.

Let us take a moment to gaze upon that first cover.

*moment of silence*

I can readily forgive the elaborate dress on my country character–the artist had a known fondness for such things.  I can forgive the dark brown instead of pale blond hair…sometimes such details give way to compositional needs.

I cannot forgive the unicorns.

My unicorns are fearsome beasts. Draft-size, draft-weight.  Magnificent, of course, because I deserve magnificent unicorns.  And the colors?  Clearly described as unusual, but simply as pertains to horses.  Brindle and walnut and sable and merle.

They were not pastel.

NOT.  PASTEL.

Nor were they weenie little ponies. Short-necked, loaded-shouldered, sway-backed, static-haired, girly-assed little ponies.

WERE.  NOT.

At the time, this artist’s work generally sold books.  But oh!  So many readers came to me and said, “I almost didn’t pick up this book because of the cover, but I’m really glad I did.  It’s not about pastel unicorns at all.”

It’s really not.

So here I am, about to compose my own cover. I’d sure like to do better!  I have some ideas, but…what do you think?  What would you try to say about this book on the cover?

(Hey, it’s an open book question, so…have a blurb!  Have an excerpt!  Notice what the unicorns are doing, in said excerpt.)

Magic has never been a part of Reandn’s life. Almost gone from Keland when he was born, there is no trace of it left by the time he enters training with the King’s Wolves, the elite force that patrols the king’s lands.

Magic has never been a part of Reandn’s life. Until the people under his care start dying. Until the threat extends to his family, and until he finds himself struggling through disorienting attacks of weakness that turn the very act of going out on patrol into an unacceptable risk. Someone, somewhere, is trying to draw magic back into Keland, and they don’t care what–or who–is destroyed in the process.

But Reandn does.

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Six-year-old Rethia woke to wild hoof beats.

Frightened, she pressed herself against the ground. When she gathered the courage to peer up, she could make out only flashing legs and leaping bodies–and all the while, the unmistakable tingle of magic coursed through her body.

Imperceptibly at first, the pounding diminished and the tickling magic intensified. The creatures were leaving–and they weren’t just running away.
They bounded into the air without landing. Disappeared. Vanished in a flash of not-being.

And when there was only one set of hoofbeats left, solid and deliberate and walking toward her, Rethia trembled with the knowledge that she witnessed great magic in a world that was drifting free of such things, and forgot to be afraid of the beast itself.

The hooves stopped in front of her basket, strong round hooves with heavy-boned, clean-lined legs rising from them. Not a horse. She knew that even before she looked up to see the horn.

She pulled herself upright and looked straight into the face of the unicorn, her deep blue gaze unflinching. It was a heavy-boned face, with ridges etched in darkest walnut instead of gleaming highlights, and with odd, icy eyes that abruptly reminded her that unicorns were not Tame. Wild magic, free always, of what man might intend or wish for it. When the beast did not react to her impudence, she lifted a small trembling hand to touch the thick, tangled mane and forelock, so long they brushed her face even as the animal raised its head. It looked around the trampled, abandoned meadow, blew out a huff of air. When it looked back down at her, its icy gaze warmed, catching the blue of her eyes, staining them with the reflection of its walnut features. It dropped its head to again accept her touch.

She had no idea it would be a trade.

…Wednesday

Deep River Reckoning

Deep River Reckoning is a Reckoners short story newly available on Kindle: the journey of a woman recently passed strikes close to home for Garrie and Trevarr, as living and dead clash over the mysteriously damaged spirits of the Rio Grande.

I wanted an excuse to write a Reckoners story, so I ran a contest…the winner shared a few details to allow me to jump start the ghost. Of course, as uncontrollable as my muse is, she quickly did as she wanted to with those details. It was a great start, and a pleasure to work with the ghostly namesake!

And, of course, this is the cover with which discussions here, on Facebook, and over on SFF have been of such help. Look down to Monday’s post…and then take a good look at the cover here!

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…Wednesday

THE SCORIA

Nope, don’t go scrambling through your memory or your bookshelves; this isn’t a book title you should be familiar with!

The Scoria is an idea I’ve had for a very long time; I started working it up in the late ’90s, and then my writing path took me in about ten different directions at once, none of them leaving me time to write this book.  Every once in a while I huge the folder holding my notes for it, though!

And, as it happens, some years ago I had the chance to submit a story to the anthology (edited by Julie Czerneda and Jana Paniccia) UNDER THE COVER OF DARKNESS.  The antho theme targeted secret societies: “Down through the centuries there have been groups sworn to protect important artifacts and secrets, perhaps exercising their power and connections–possibly even mystical affiliations–to guide the world’s future. ”

My little idea was a very nice fit, in a sly way.  So I had the chance to write the foundation piece for the book-to-be, and I was thrilled, and am still thrilled, to have had it.

And now it’s equally fun to have the chance to put out an e-version–for now, on Kindle (currently a sweet 99 cents at that)–but as I gather momentum, on Smashwords (with its many available formats) as well.  I mean, dig it, man–the muse gets to work on a sleek cover and the prose within!  Oh, the happy!

So guess what!  Here’s a snippet!

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“Alleksa! Alleksa!“

Voices raised in joy, in a rare daring.

Galetia twisted from her sentry spot and raised her own hands high, flashing fingers open and closed in the approval of their kind. “Alleksa!” she shouted down into the bowl of the arena ruin, a midnight darkness spotted with tiny ground fires and fire spinners on the move. A spontaneous, whirling circle closed around the central dark spot that held Alleksa.

Hidden here outside the city, only the Scoria celebrated the night.

And only the Scoria celebrated surviving the coming of age that the citties took for granted. Alleksa proved more blessed yet…she would not only survive, she would thrive. Everyone saw the signs–the flashes of change without fever, without shakes, without chills. The ripples of ethereal otherness across her face, without the rash that so often came with such a strong turning.

She would be one of their strongest.

She might even live through to adulthood, protected by this secret gathering of the abandoned, the discarded…those both lost and found. Each year, more infants were plucked to the safety of loving arms. Each year, more youngsters lived through the change.

But oh, the authorities had begun to suspect.

…Wednesday

Speaking of covers…Sklayne believes he should have a cover of his own.

Ahh, Sklayne.

He’s one of THOSE characters.  Always doing the unexpected.  Always saying the embarrassing thing.  He not only colors outside the lines, he makes up his own coloring book.

He’s a wonderful foil.  And for sure he keeps a certain  off-world bounty hunter on his toes…

Of course, he’s got his own story, too…how he came to be with Trevarr, the trade-offs he’s made with that choice…the way it’s changed him.  It’s a story of secrets and partnership…and it’s spinning out at its own pace, there in the background…

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And Trevarr said nothing, but Trevarr knew, and Trevarr fought against what was within, what was always within but always so deeply buried…never allowed any freedom, for fear it could never be caged again. Never controlled.

Sklayne knew that fear. Lived beside it. Had seen it woken once on this world already.

The eyes…always the change showed first in the eyes. The skin patterns, tattoos inborn, trailing and growing from those vestiges present at birth. After that, few knew…because few had survived. Or been allowed to. The bastard-breeds…they were the worst. The strongest. The hardest to control. Too torn between what they were and what they weren’t to live by the rules of any given being.

::Half-blood!:: he said, and ::Beware!:: and ::Danger there!:: but by then he knew the power had stirred and scraped and howled, stripping away carefully guarded layers with the shock that made this cat form writhe upon the bedspread these miles away. Trevarr, hurt. Trevarr, struggling. Trevarr surrounded by beings who did not know, who could not know.

Sklayne snarled a rudeness at the weak cat form and the feeble damage its claws had done to the bedding. He knew. He should be there.

Bound familiar.

::Take,:: he said, and gave what he could, across the miles. And knew he was heard when that gift was received, when Trevarr held ground against that which had been woken within. When he persisted, even as the Garrie-person wielded her bastardized breezes, her terror turning to confidence and profound competence.

So Sklayne gave, until the moment was done. Until he felt the faintest of touches, a mental scritch along the fur of his spine. And so he collapsed in on his corporeal aspect and let himself retreat back to this hotel room.

Oh, most disapproving.

::Cat-form, so very broken.::

Fark.

Sklayne set about fixing it.

…Wednesday

Yes, Checkmate was the first of the Bombshells to be available in ebook–in the very first batch, actually, since it’s #12 of the really popular Athena Force series.

Writing Book Twelve of a complex 12-book continuity…well, that was interesting, all right. Especially since I had only brief (VERY brief) synopses of books 1-11 to work with. And while we had an email list, on which everyone shared as they could, it turned out that we all had different deadlines, and I actually wrote #12 before most of the others were done.

Fortunately, the Silhouette editors had mercy on me, and my basic working concept was “Selena goes to Berzhaan (AKA Fakeistan) and walks into Big Trouble involving [continuity wrap-up], while temporarily estranged from her hubby.”

OH. The research I did for this book. I mean…THE RESEARCH. Including an interview with the CIA officer who’d retired from the field to work liaison with Hollywood (Alias, for instance…). Not to mention all the reasearch into homemade devices and weapons, and worrying whether anyone would, er…notice.

But it all paid off! Because basically, this book is my wicked fun take on MacGyver vs Die Hard, with a female protagonist (and her hubby is no slouch, either!). And oh! It was FUN!

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Selena surged around the door frame and shot him in the ass.