I'm delighted to welcome my friend and an #EditFoster client, Laurie Bell to the blog today, with her own inspiring take on the nightmare that is editing!
Editing – the nightmare you CAN control.
As a recipient of the dreaded edit letter I am here to tell you… it’s not so bad.
In fact, it can be great. Especially if you are open to making your manuscript the best manuscript it can be. Just like a robot you turn it on for the first time you can either freeze as it takes control of the internet, hide in your safe room as it takes over your house or shed tears and cry, “It’s that Doctor Who episode, not the edit letter, honestly!” while stuffing your face with Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food.
Or, you can look at it like – oh, little Robby the robot needs a few changes to his software before he really comes alive. And hey, I can do that.
Every edit letter or CP email I've ever received I have learnt from.
Sure – that first click can be daunting. Your manuscript is your baby. You've spent so much time on her. Maybe you’ve taken her on one or two playdates with family or friends. Maybe you’ve even shared her with a Critique Partner or two. Opening that email can seem like both hope and heartache in one key stroke.
I always open mine with excitement. I want to hear what an editor or CP thinks. I want to know what grabbed them, what made them laugh and what they didn’t really connect with. I want to read how my manuscript affects or doesn’t affect someone.
And then the fun begins.
I get to break my story down and rebuild her – like the six million dollar woman, she will be stronger and more powerful.
My journey has been a long one and it is still ongoing. But if anything, I'm getting a good process down – it works for me, it may not work for anyone else.
So, let me tell you my most recent journey.
First, I save a copy of my manuscript. That way, I can come back to it if my changes don’t work.
Then I print the edit letter or CP email and highlight everything I want to work with (ideas, thoughts, suggestions, examples…) Sometimes I get CP comments directly onto my manuscript. Again – I print this out to review and make changes directly onto the page.
I do some research – copy or print examples and really drill into my brain what I needed to learn. I then write up character bio sheets – and not just the basics like hair colour, height and so on, I delve deeper into my characters’ history. What was their relationship like with parents, siblings and friends? What makes them happy and sad. How do they react and what do they do when relaxed, stressed, afraid etc. Then I do the same with the worlds I create (I write sci fi so my worlds are as much of a character as my characters)
Then I print my little robot out.
The first cut is always the deepest. So, I go big on the slash and burn, and then repair the damage later. It’s a little like surgery, slash those “extra” characters or the ones that aren’t needed and kill off that opening chapter (or eight).
In my case, it was both chapters and extraneous characters I was cutting… and it was brutal. Metaphorical blood flew, knife hacking and spaceship guns flaring. Pages fell under the onslaught. My delete key is a sharp and unforgiving tool. (Thank god for the undo button. Remember, I have that previous copy saved. So my lovely words are not gone forever).
When you stop for breath, you find half a book is left. But half a book of tighter plot points and direct action.
I reprint my paired down little robot.
Going back over the plot holes, I mark each one with a * and pull out my trusty notebook. I enter each page number down and start to rebuild.
As an aside, I prefer to handwrite my drafts. I don’t get a lot of spare time with work and theatre so I write on the train and at lunchtimes. I hand work my edits too.)
When finished, my manuscript is whole again but needs a lot of work to polish up.
And boy, what a difference. Then I print it again and read it out aloud.
More changes. But at the end – what a beauty. Then, with more trepidation I ship it off to my CPs.
But do you know what, even before I get their positive comments back, I know it’s better.
Don’t be afraid of the slash and burn. You are a writer – writing new material is what you do.
You can rebuild.
You can make it better.
And then it will come to life – and possibly go off and solve crime… who knows, it’s your story! Mine flew off to solve space crimes and get her life back on track!
An editor or a friend can only give you their opinion. But it’s only that, an opinion. It might be a very well informed opinion, but it is still an opinion. Your manuscript is yours. It’s your words, it’s your story.
If you look at the edit letter as an exercise, then you get to play with an open mind and try all sorts of things. See what works and what doesn’t. You will know if it’s better. Listen to what helps you. Ignore what doesn’t.
And make your manuscript shine.
I have three.
I am working on more.
Don’t stop doing what you love.
But heck, give it a try.
It’s not going to kill you. (Your characters maybe, but not you!)
Laurie Bell lives in Melbourne, Australia. She was that girl you found with her nose always buried in a book. She has been writing ever since she was a little girl and first picked up a pen. From books to short stories, radio plays to snippets of ideas and reading them aloud to anyone who will listen. She writes Science fiction and fantasy for both adults & YA, and has written three manuscripts (all are in the editing / querying trenches).
She is currently working on her new WIP and you can read more of her work on her blog www.solothefirst.wordpress.com
Look for her on Facebook www.facebook.com/WriterLaurieBell
or Twitter: @LaurienotLori
There aren't many authors I come across who openly admit to being like me, that they prefer the editing of their manuscript to writing the first draft. But the awesome Michael Bowler is one of them. And he has some absolutely stellar advice on the subject.
THE JOY OF EDITING
The best part of writing a book is… editing it. I know, I know, so many writers hate this part of the deal because it can mean—gasp--changing something in their baby that they slaved weeks or months to bring into the world. For me as a writer, the first draft can be frustrating to complete, but the editing—or revising—period is when my books really come to life and every element “clicks” into place.
I tend to write stories with numerous characters and intertwining plot threads that all come together in the end, so solid revising and editing are essential. I hate reading published books that contain editing errors, especially those of continuity, dropped plot points, storylines that are clumsily wrapped up, or when characters veer wildly from their established personas because doing so better serves a plot convolution. Sadly, I’ve read more books—from big publishers—with these major gaffes than I’d care to acknowledge. As a result, I am obsessive about reading and re-reading and revising every line of my own work before I even send it to an editor.
I suspect much of the blame for typos finding their way into published books is the result of editing on computers, rather than on paper. Typos that fly under the radar on the screen fly off the page on paper, but I’m someone who believes in protecting the environment and not contributing to waste, and it’s less wasteful to edit digitally. What’s disturbing, however, is how often I find story and continuity problems in published works. I don’t know if editors have to work fewer hours on simultaneous projects or if the editors themselves aren’t careful readers, but—just like plot holes in movies—plot problems in books can—and should be—fixed well ahead of the release date. I guess this reason alone is why a great editor is worth his or her weight in gold.
With my own writing, I first edit on the computer for several drafts, making any necessary revisions and catching as many of the typos or syntax errors as I can. Then I turn the Word document into a PDF and read it on my phone. Suddenly, like a light going on, obvious errors, and even continuity problems, that I should have seen on the larger screen become glaringly obvious on the smaller one. By going back and forth a few times between computer and phone, I manage to find most obvious problems or mistakes before an editor ever reads the first line.
Since I have no publisher that has worked with me for more than one book, and no representation, I have to hire my own editors to help me get each manuscript into the best shape possible before I send it out. I’ve worked with editors who feel that nasty, smug, insulting comments are the best way to entice an author into improving a manuscript. As a high school teacher for twenty-five years, I never used such methods with my students because they don’t work. Seeking to undermine the confidence of a student, or a writer, will not create a better version of either one. Don’t get me wrong, I want honesty, and I especially want to know what doesn’t work so I can fix it, but attitude is everything—in life and in editing.
Thankfully, for my last three unpublished books, I found a great editor named Loretta Sylvestre who has helped shape my sometimes-unwieldy manuscripts into smooth-flowing, highly readable books with all the plot and character threads playing out in believable and satisfying ways. So far, those edited versions haven’t enticed any interest from agents or publishers, but that is due to my storytelling abilities—or lack thereof—and not to the editing. These books are more highly polished and professional-looking than many already in print. My current middle grade project is in the beta-reading stage right now—by both adults and middle grade students—and then I will need to work with an editor who knows this genre.
Which brings me to another worthwhile point: it’s essential to find an editor who knows your genre. I feel I could edit books for teens, since I read and write in that genre. I would not be a good fit for romance books since I don’t read them and don’t know all the conventions, but I’ve read tons of fantasy and horror and could easily work with those stories. Likewise, professional editors have their areas of expertise, and writers should inquire ahead of time what those areas are and what books the editor has worked on.
My love of editing goes back to my eleventh and twelfth grade English teacher, Ms. Marna Maynard. She saw early on that I had a flair for writing and taught me how to revise, how to edit, how to clarify points I thought I’d made, but didn’t clearly state on paper. She instilled within me a deep love of writing, especially the necessary truth that writing is all about re-writing. She guided me through multiple drafts of every paper while she provided feedback on each and every version. She was the kind of teacher I strove to be in my own teaching career, and I hope I was able to inspire at least a few kids the way she inspired me.
I know all writers don’t love editors, especially if those editors are nasty, but good, affirming editors who provide real, solid suggestions for improving a book are the heartbeat of a great story. As authors, it’s hard to distance ourselves from what we write, and impossible to see our stories the way a stranger sees them, so that extra set of eyes is essential. A writer weaves a spell. An editor helps cast it. Together, they make magic.
About the Author
Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author who has made low-budget horror films,
written stage plays, taught high school for twenty-five years, and been a lifelong volunteer
with youth, especially incarcerated, disabled, and marginalized youth. Michael hopes his
books can show young people they are not alone in their struggles, and he continues his
advocacy for children’s rights.
I'm stoked to be a part of the book release blitz for Guardian of Secrets, book 2 in the Library Jumpers series by the amazing Brenda Drake. You should totally go buy these books right now!
We're celebrating the release of Brenda Drake's GUARDIAN OF SECRETS (Library Jumpers #2), today! Check out the teaser excerpt, and be sure to enter the giveaway via Rafflecopter below!
GUARDIAN OF SECRETS (Library Jumpers #2) by Brenda Drake Publisher: Entangled Teen Publication Date: February 7, 2017
Being a Sentinel isn’t all fairytales and secret gardens. Sure, jumping through books into the world’s most beautiful libraries to protect humans from mystical creatures is awesome. No one knows that better than Gia Kearns, but she could do without the part where people are always trying to kill her. Oh, and the fact that Pop and her had to move away from her friends and life as she knew it. And if that isn’t enough, her boyfriend, Arik, is acting strangely. Like, maybe she should be calling him “ex,” since he’s so into another girl. But she doesn’t have time to be mad or even jealous, because someone has to save the world from the upcoming apocalypse, and it looks like that’s going to be Gia. Maybe. If she survives.
Thief of Lies (Library Jumpers #1):
Guardian of Secrets (Library Jumpers #2):
Excerpt from GUARDIAN OF SECRETS
She did a U-turn and drove off. I sprinted to the area where I spotted the lightning. A shadowed figure sat on a white bench near the water. Another flash of light kissed the sky and illuminated Nick. Since discovering he was a wizard, Nick struggled with his new magic. And he was careless. Anyone could spot him out here. How would he explain it to someone who was human and not from the Mystik realm? I couldn’t imagine how it felt to have that much power. Unlike him, I was a Sentinel. I had little magic and relied on my battle training to best wizards and other-world creatures. He only needed to shock or electrocute his adversaries. “What exactly are you doing?” I asked, approaching. He almost fell off the bench. “Shit, Gia. Don’t sneak up on a person like that.” “Seriously, Nick? What are you doing? Someone might see you, and then we’d be discovered.” “Just leave me alone.” “I’m not going to just leave you alone.” I sat down on the bench beside him. A light breeze swept loose strands of my hair across my face. The briny smell of the ocean filled my nose. “Talk to me. You’re my best friend, Nick. I’m here for you.” He formed an electric charge on his palm. I created my pink globe and tossed it on his hand, snuffing out the charge. He made another electric ball and I cast another globe at it. “Quit doing that.” “You stop it.” “I get it. Your globe is badass. It can counter magic and shield people, but it makes you weak. I can do this all night and wear you out.” “You’re not nice.” He buried his face in his hands. The knuckles on his right one were torn, with blood coagulating around the wounds. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I can’t stop myself. I know I’m being mean to Deidre, to my parents…to everyone.” “You haven’t been that mean to me, yet. That has to say something. I’m the most annoying one of the bunch.” He snorted. “Did you just snort?” “No.” He looked startled. “It was a sneeze.” “I think you snorted.” His face brightened. “I know what you’re trying to do. And it’s working.” “I’m not trying to do anything. That was a full-on snort.” I wrapped my arm over his back and watched the water lap against the retaining wall in front of us. “I know you can’t see a therapist for this, ’cause what would you say? That you just found out you’re the son of the most evil wizard of the Mystik world and the curers recently released your magic?” He gave me a half smile. “Yeah, that might not go over too well.” “Or maybe you could. They’d think you were delusional, and you’d score some drugs.” “Drugs make me nauseous.” He stared at his hands, and I stared at the water, searching for the right words to say. “This has to be tough for you. I get it. I’ve been there. It’ll take time to adjust. How about I be your counselor? Anytime you feel anxious or angry, you call me and we’ll punch some bags or whatever. It always helps me to relax. Plus, my services are cheap.” “Violence would make you relax.” He was pleased with his retort and laughed, which was followed by another snort.
About Brenda DrakeWebsite | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram
Brenda Drake is a New York Times bestselling author of Thief of Lies (Library Jumpers #1), Guardian of Secrets (Library Jumpers #2), Touching Fate (Fated Series #1), and Cursing Fate (Fated Series #2). She grew up the youngest of three children, an Air Force brat, and the continual new kid at school. She hosts workshops and contests for writers such as Pitch Wars and Pitch Madness on her blog, and holds Twitter pitch parties on the hashtag, #PitMad. When she’s not writing or hanging out with her family, she haunts libraries, bookstores, and coffee shops, or reads someplace quiet and not at all exotic (much to her disappointment). Look for her upcoming novels, Thunderstruck, Seeking Fate (Fated Series #3), and Assassin of Truths (Library Jumpers #3) coming soon from Entangled Teen.
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It is with great pleasure I welcome short story writer (and novel dabbler) Megan Manzano to the blog today. She's talking about a topic I, along with a fair number of writers, struggle with, and that's writing short stories.
Short stories seem to have two distinct views in the writing community. There are authors who write and enjoy them and authors who ask, “How do you write a short story? How does it not become a book?”
I’ve gotten the latter question often since I predominantly write short stories and have several of them published in literary magazines. Short stories come easily to me. They start off as a word or line in my head and branch out to a larger idea. Often, the idea is not big enough to be a book or would zap all my energy if I tried to make it into one. The benefit of using an idea to create a short story is I get to explore the characters, the world, and the meat of the plot without having to build up to it.
One of the biggest pieces of advice I’ve gotten as a writer is “start your story in the middle”. Don’t lead your reader through an abundance of backstory and miscellaneous details. Throw them into an event and let the world fill itself out. For books, this can take hundreds of pages, even several books. Short stories are like a snapshot. You have what you want yourself and others to remember and then it’s over.
There is a freedom that comes from writing short stories. I don’t necessarily have to explain everything. I can choose what I want to reveal as long as it guides the story forward and my reader is still able to understand the conflict and the motivations of my characters. It does get tricky when I can’t figure out exactly how to end a story or I ask myself if I’ve done the story justice. A lot of my experience with short stories has come from practice and little to no planning.
Yes, I must make a confession: I don’t outline or plan. I am pantser if you will. Laying out details for my story hinders my creative process. I like the unpredictability of not knowing if my initial idea will remain the same or change. I like being surprised. I like not placing a limit on the words I’m putting on the page. I do tend to have a conclusion I want to reach in my head. It usually pops up when I begin writing, but I don’t question how I get there unless it makes absolutely no sense when I read it over.
Another habit I have is I write short stories in one sitting. This does not apply to all of my short stories, but it applies to ninety percent of them. Short story ideas are fleeting in my head. If I don’t get them on paper, they won’t be as strong the next day or the day after. They won’t have the same muse pushing them forward, weaving my words together without effort. It makes for some intense pressure as a writer, but it also presents a fun challenge. Can I finish a story I haven’t planned, that possibly has an ending, and no idea how I’m going to get there? Yes, most of the time. There are always instances where these ideas get left in my work in progress folder with the hope I return to them in the future.
Writing my first book – the novels I wrote as a child filled of ghosts and time travel and talking babies don’t count – has presented its challenges. In the beginning, I had the same muse I get for short stories. I was finishing whole chapters in a day. Now, that initial spark has died. I love my book and my characters, but the writing process is much slower. I write in bits and pieces or it will be a few days or weeks until I finish a chapter in a single sitting. This is when I realized what kind of writer I am, the contrast between how I write short stories and how I write my book. I think writers tend to have the opposite problem, but nonetheless, I plan on finishing my book. Most of it is done and then I will go through the crazy process known as editing. My journey just takes a bit longer than it would for others.
I do recommend writing short stories even if they don’t go anywhere or get published. They can be a great tool to explore your style as a writer as well as test yourself on how you can cut details and extrapolate plot. They may not be for everyone, but I wouldn’t rule it out until you give a shot. You may realize you like them or if you are the type of author that likes writing a book, you may find a foundation for a new one.
Megan Manzano graduated college with a Bachelor's degree in English. She has been published in several magazines: Maudlin House, Firefly Magazine, Fantastia Divinity Magazine, and Twisted Sister Lit. Her favorite activities include reading, blogging, finding ways to travel, editing, and expressing her imagination through writing. It is also worth noting she has an unhealthy obsession with dogs and wants to have many in her future.
Follow and find out more about Megan here!
Today, I'm pleased to welcome an #EditFoster client to the blog, Danielle K Girl, talking about how it felt to receive her edits!
A week before I moved from Australia to the USA, I received feedback on my first professionally edited manuscript.
Scary bloody stuff.
And I did what any author striving to improve herself would do. I put it away and didn't look at it for another week. Moving country is a pretty good excuse, right? But there came a point when I could avoid it no longer...
Time to open up that laptop, find myself a little spot in the corner of the AirBnB that is currently home, and find out what one or two minor things my manuscript needs in order to become an instant bestseller.
Yes, dear invisible friends inside my head, I am going to read through the editorial report I received the day before flying out of Australia. I'm totes ready for it. I mean seriously, what could a professional editor have to say about what is clearly a piece of writing brilliance? Poor girl probably feels bad I'm paying her at all.
Open document. Bring it on.
Well, that's quite a lot of notes.
I didn't realise you could fit quite so many comments into a word document.
I think there is a record up for grabs here, how many times I can be told to 'show don't tell'
Look at all those mark-ups.
All those spelling errors.
So many mark-ups.
Wait, hang on. Sorry, Bill Murray is trying to tell me something, give me a minute. What's that Bill?
Why yes, yes I do. Thanks for your input.
Remain calm. Totally calm. Do not fling laptop in stranger's house. Remain totally calm. So, it turns out you can't write for shit. That's okay. Dreams are overrated. As is self-esteem.
No one needs either of those things. Nope. Certainly not me.
Sweet mother of god, failure burns! It stings my eyes. These aren't tears, they are stinging beads of faily-fail-fail juice running down my face. Stop looking at me!
I so don't got this.
In fairness, I was warned by fellow writing buddies, editing is gonna sting like a mofo. They weren't friggin kidding. I can't even see my keyboard anymore the fail-fail juice is flowing so bad...gjomb...ghoohoa...
Fellow writing buds also said, "Read it, put it away, feel sorry for yourself, and then give it a few days." Okay. Sure, yep. No worries.
Now what? I ain't opening that thing again. No god damn way. Besides, the fail-fail juice overflow short circuited my keyboard. Can't type A or E, or more importantly, download gifs. No point going on. There are other dreams anyway. Walmart's hiring at the moment. I'm sure there's something I can do there.
Putting words together is totes overrated....but I really like putting words together. It's my precious......I wants it....
And now I've spilled my wine. Right. Officially it cannot get any worse.
So screw you, Bill Murray. I'm going back in. Back to mark-up hell. This time I'm wearing goggles. I want to see what I paid for. Maybe those notes didn't actually say "give up you're useless." In hindsight it might have been more like "this is on the right track for submission" and that my fight scenes were awesome and it was a "unique story."
Maybe. The juice blinded me. Now shove over Bill. Do something useful and pass me a fresh glass of wine and a hairdryer, I need to dry out this keyboard.
Danielle K Girl is an Aussie who recently moved from Melbourne, Australia to Lititz, Pennsylvania - a town she’s convinced is actually Gilmore Girls’ Stars Hollow. She chose Girl as her pen name because she got tired of reading about female authors having to hide their gender. She adores animals, loves peanut butter pie and wishes her car was a Transformer.
Her first independently published book ExtraOrdinary, a YA scifi, was released in December 2016. Work on the second book in the series, ExtraLimital, is currently underway. She is also working on a adult sci-fi series based on a Sumerian myth and crammed with as much bio-tech and as many aliens, witches and gods she can fit on the page.
Twitter - @DanielleKGirl
Website - http://daniellekgirl.com/
Instagram - daniellekgirl
Tumblr - dankgirl.tumblr.com
Super excited for this book! Check it out...
Today we have the release blitz for Reckless Hearts by Heather Van Fleet! Check out the release day festivities and grab your copy today!!
About RECKLESS HEARTS:Between boot camp and two TOD’s in Iraq, my buddies Max, Gavin and me have been through some serious hell. So the last thing I ever expected was to find the biggest challenge of my life back home. My girlfriend died. I couldn’t even attend her funeral, let alone tell her goodbye or that I’m sorry I wasn’t there like I should’ve been. But she left me a gift. The best and scariest one I could’ve ever asked for. One I didn’t think I could handle…until the day I saw her tiny blues looking up at me in that airport. Chloe. Now here I am, raising my baby girl—with the help of my two best friends. Things couldn’t be better. Until she walked into my life. All I wanted was a nanny. Someone to take care of my girl when I couldn’t. What I didn’t count on was Addison, the brown-eyed temptress with a body of sin, and everything I didn’t need, but suddenly wanted.
Get Your Copy:
Exclusive Excerpt:He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Gav. You busy?” “Not Gav.” My face warmed at the sound of Collin’s voice. “You there?” “Um, yes. But I need to speak with Gavin, please.” Keep breathing, keep calm. You’ve got this. “But I need to talk to you first.” I clenched my teeth. “May I talk to him, please?” “Nope.” I threw my head back against the couch and groaned. “Why not?” If he was going to be short with his answers, I would be short with my questions. “Need to talk to you about something first. Told you that.” Could’ve sworn I heard the words Needs to eat your pussy is more like it in the background, but my mind was scrambling like the eggs I’d cooked for breakfast. “Shut up, asshole,” Collin barked. I spun a loose string around my finger. “What did you just say to me?” Total déjà vu. The wind slapped against his speaker. “Are you driving?” I unraveled the string from my finger and bounced my knee. “Because in the State of Illinois, it’s illegal to drive and talk on a cell phone unless it’s hands free.” “Damn it, no. She’s putting that shit in her mouth.” He grumbled something else, and the sound of baby giggles tugged on my already floppy heartstrings. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about Chloe. I’d only been around her twice, but I kind of missed the little thing. “Not driving. Just playin’ at the park.” Playing at the park. Why did the image make me grin? Collin pushing Chloe in her swing, her little baby legs bouncing up and down as he did. “Why are you calling Gavin anyway?” “None of your business.” My smile fell. “Can you just put him on?” “I told you I needed to talk first.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Then talk.” “Gonna take you out tonight.” Shock pulled me into an upright position, and I stood so fast that a pile of clean towels fell to the floor. “Um, take me out?” I scrambled to pick them up. “Gonna apologize. Again. Buy you food, return your sweater too. If you have plans, then cancel them.” “Uh, no. Don’t think so.” At the simple thought of seeing him again, my stomach clenched in both excitement and unease. “You’re not going to pull that in-charge bullshit on me. And besides, what makes you think I want to see you anyway?” “You don’t wanna see me, sweetheart?” I slapped my hand over my eyes. Sweetheart? Seriously? “No. I don’t want to see you, pumpkin. Not when you got me fired from my job the other night with your ultimate-fight-club thing.” I blew out a quick breath. “Besides, I just…can’t.” “I need a better reason.” “Are you serious right now?” What was with this guy and his incessant need to be an asshole? “Dead serious.” He laughed. “I’ll be by your apartment at six to pick you up. Dress casual. Gonna take you to dinner, and then we’re gonna talk. You’re going to get a free meal and an apology. Can’t get much better than that, am I right?”
About Heather Van Fleet:Heather Van Fleet is stay-at-home-mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s a wife to her high school sweetheart, a mom to three little girls, and in her spare time you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, guzzling down copious amounts of coffee. Heather graduated from Black Hawk College in 2003 with an associate degree and has been working in the publishing industry for over five years. She is represented by Stacey Donaghy of Donaghy Literary.
Connect with Heather:
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It is with great pleasure I bring you a fantastic cover of a fantastic book! I cannot rate this book, the first in the series (Poor Boy Road - on sale now for 99c), and the author highly enough. Just go buy and read and see for yourself!
Grab book 1 – Poor Boy Road – for only 99c for a limited time!
I'm delighted to welcome author Nick Bezuidenhout as my guest blogger today, who's discussing a genre that's popping up more and more. Have a read and then tell us what you think.
Do a Google search for “chick lit” and soon you can immerse yourself in arguments that either criticize the genre or defend and promote it. The former are usually made by literary critics and people who are into gender politics, and the latter by chic lit authors and the readers who make them very rich.
Into this minefield now wanders “dude lit”, and it appears that I’ve inadvertently written some.
I didn’t know of the existence of this genre until I had to decide in which fiction category a novel I have recently written belongs.
When I started writing How Not To Run Away, I didn’t have a specific genre in mind. What was meant to be an adventure story eventually became the tale of a man who runs away to Nepal to escape from the fall-out of the very messy break-up of his marriage. The diary format of the novel chronicles his experiences and character development during a month-long trek around the Annapurna mountain range. There’s also a romantic element.
When I had finished writing, I still didn’t know how to categorise it.
“Oh, so it’s like Eat, Pray, Love for men!” a friend said when I explained what the book is about. This led me to remark, tongue-in-cheek, to my editor that maybe it could be classified as “dude lit”. To my surprise, she sent me a link to a list of books on Goodreads that users had tagged as exactly that.
Nick Hornby (About a Boy, High Fidelity and Juliet, Naked) and Jonathan Tropper (This is Where I Leave You, The Book of Joe and Everything Changes) seem to be the high priests of this genre. I’ve read some of Hornby’s books and loved them – especially the semi-autobiographical Fever Pitch. Also on this list are classics like On the Road, The Catcher in the Rye and Fight Club.
However, these high priests’ cult is tiny compared to that of chick lit, so I can quite understand why I wasn’t aware of the description.
The dude lit list on Goodreads has 220 books on it. The chick lit list has more than 100,000 books with (of course) Bridget Jones’s Diary topping it. When I searched for “dude lit” in Books > Fiction on Amazon’s UK site, it wanted to know whether I meant “dude kit” instead. The dude lit search eventually yielded 15 results. “Chick lit” yielded 24,090 results. Wikipedia has an entry for chick lit but not for dude lit.
The fact that Amazon has fewer results for dude lit and chick lit than Goodreads might be because both genres have somewhat of a stigma attached to them, despite the huge commercial success of especially the chick lit genre. Most publishers would not overtly market books as belonging to either genre, whereas the actual readers over on Goodreads are a bit more honest, I presume.
It comes as no surprise that Amazon doesn’t have either of these terms in its fiction genre filter tool, which is why you’ll find my book in categories like “Romance”, “Travel” and “Action and Adventure”.
Nick Bezuidenhout was born and raised in South Africa. He has worked as a journalist and in various other roles in news media in South Africa, China, Kenya and Britain, where he currently lives.
He’s a sporadic and ill-disciplined runner, whose form varies from being able to run a 110km ultra-marathon to limping around his local park, nursing a gout-afflicted foot. He likes to counter the good effects of running by indulging in food and drink.
Some of his favourite authors are: Douglas Adams, Joseph Heller, Roald Dahl (his adult stuff), Gabriel García Márquez, Louis de Berniere, Haruki Murakami, Nick Cave, Herman Charles Bosman, Alice Munro, Robert Rankin, Barbara Kingsolver, Richard Dawkins, AA Gill, PJ O’Rourke, Alain de Botton and Jared Diamond.
He’s currently writing a novel with the working title Digital Nomads. It takes a humorous look at people earning a living online while travelling all over the world, artificial intelligence, and the authoritarian, populist president of a certain global superpower.
ABOUT SOME KIND OF MAGIC
"An amazing first novel."—Sydney Landon, New York Times bestselling author
In this sparkling debut novel, Mary Ann Marlowe introduces a hapless scientist who's swept off her feet by a rock star—but is it love or just a chemical reaction?...
Biochemist Eden Sinclair has no idea that the scent she spritzed on herself before leaving the lab is designed to enhance pheromones. Or that the cute, grungy-looking guy she meets at a gig that evening is Adam Copeland. As in the Adam Copeland international rock god and object of lust for a million women. Make that a million and one. By the time she learns the truth, she s already spent the (amazing, incredible) night in his bed.
Suddenly Eden, who's more accustomed to being set up on disastrous dates by her mom, is going out with a gorgeous celebrity who loves how down-to-earth and honest she is. But for once, Eden isn't being honest. She can't bear to reveal that this overpowering attraction could be nothing more than seduction by science. And the only way to know how Adam truly feels is to ditch the perfume—and risk being ditched in turn.
Smart, witty, and sexy, Some Kind of Magic is an irresistibly engaging look at modern relationships why we fall, how we connect, and the courage it takes to trust in something as mysterious and unpredictable as love.
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Some Kind of Magic is Mary Ann Marlowe’s first novel. When not writing, she takes karate with her kids (she has a second degree black belt) and works by day as a computer programmer/DBA. She spent ten years as a university-level French professor, and her resume includes stints as an au pair in Calais, a hotel intern in Paris, a German tutor, a college radio disc jockey, and a webmaster for several online musician fandoms. She has lived in twelve states and three countries and loves to travel. She now lives in central Virginia where she is hard at work on her second novel. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.maryannmarlowe.com, Facebook, and Twitter.
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Excerpt from SOME KIND OF MAGIC
I scanned the rest of the room. I wasn’t surprised to see he had a turntable. Micah had been buying vinyl for years. An entertainment unit held a wide-screen TV and a stack of DVDs. I walked over to check out his movie collection. A Netflix envelope sat on top, and I read the address. The name rang a bell.
Then I remembered. Stacy and Kelly had crushed on a rock singer with the same name for a few weeks last summer, another impossibly hot guy with red hair. No, wait, that was a different band. I could never keep their celebrity crushes straight.
My eyes went wide. What if this was that same guy? They would die. He was a musician, after all. A wave of nausea crested as I took in my surroundings. The guy certainly had money.
Adam glanced up from a stack of records and caught me staring at him. “What?”
“Your name is Adam Copeland?” My mind raced. The apartment was his parents’, so the money was probably his parents’, too. If he was a rock star, wouldn’t he have some lavish penthouse overlooking Central Park?
He went back to flipping through albums, nonplussed. “Oh, yeah.”
I narrowed my eyes. If I asked him straight up, he’d think I was crazy, so I casually sauntered over to the side of his bed and leaned back, facing him. I picked at the hem of my shirt, and then, as though I was teasing, I tested the waters. “So, does everyone ask you if you’re any relation to that guy from that band?”
“Huh?” He pulled out a Van Morrison album and then dropped it back down, still on the search for whatever he was looking for.
Then it hit me. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. It must be an incredibly common name.”
He froze in place like a deer caught in the headlights, like he had no idea what I was talking about.
This was embarrassing. Awkwardly, I fumbled for an explanation, rambling. “You know that band? They have a song that gets played about a million times an hour.” On the spot, I couldn’t even remember the band’s name. I scraped my brain, tapping my fingers on the bed post. It came to me out of nowhere. “Walking Disaster!”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Riiiight.” He settled on an album and slid the vinyl record from the sleeve.
I hoped I hadn’t offended him somehow. Maybe it was an irritating comparison. If someone famous had my name, I’d find it annoying.
What was I thinking? As if some famous musician would just hang out at a club and buy me beers. And flirt. He’d definitely been flirting with me. Guys within my limited reach rarely bought me beers and flirted. How much chance would I have with a freaking rock star? I laughed at myself for losing my head temporarily.
Unfazed, Adam dropped an album onto the turntable. I smiled as a dead sexy Arctic Monkeys song started. “I love this song!”
He sidled up next to me and bumped me with his shoulder. “So you like that band, Walking Disaster?”
Was this a litmus-test question? Like asking someone if they like Nickelback? What if he had a checklist, too? What if he only liked girls who listened to the “right” music and immediately disdained girls who listened to whatever he found uncool? And why did I suddenly care what kind of girls he might like?
I shrugged, reaching for a safe nonchalant answer. “I don’t normally listen to them unless they come on the radio. I don’t intentionally listen to much current rock music, except for Micah’s. But my coworkers gush about that band. They tried to drag me out to see them just recently.”
“But you didn’t want to go?”
“No, I would’ve gone. But it was at the Meadowlands, and it was a weeknight. I had to get up early the next day.”
“To make perfume, right?” He leaned closer and breathed in. “What’s the name of this one?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Mmm. You should call it ‘Irresistible.’ It smells nice.” He lifted my hand and laid a kiss against my wrist. My brain told me I should leave. I barely knew him.
But I didn’t want to leave. Adam’s lips felt so good against my skin. His dark eyes sought mine, looking for permission, maybe. The naked desire etched on his face sent a tingle through me. I wanted to feel his lips on mine, but he held back, so I bent toward him. He kissed me soft, and I tasted the hint of Jamaican spiced rum.
He broke away and drew back, so close but too far away. His eyes pierced mine, and his breathing hitched, but he hesitated. I felt tethered there, unable to move back, wanting to move forward. I reached up to touch the stubble on his cheek, then that cord on his neck I’d wanted to touch earlier. Without another thought, I twisted my fingers in his hair and pulled him back to me.
My first blog of 2017 is an awesome one! I am delighted to be a part of my lovely friend whom I have a mega girl crush on, Kelly Siskind's book release blitz! Check out the details of this AMAZING book.
Reality bites. Hard.
The last time Raven did “real” was sixteen months ago, when she spent one unforgettable night with the tattooed, impossible sexy Nico, and then he disappeared the next day. Since then, she’s kept her guard up and her feelings to herself. She doesn’t have time for relationship drama when she’s busy searching for her long lost sister.
Nico hasn’t stopped thinking about Raven—her sultry curves, inked skin, or the fact that he ditched her after their night together. Now that they’re living in the same city, he knows this is his chance to make things right. What better way to prove to Raven he’s for real than helping her find her sister? But when the lines between right and wrong start to blur, putting his job on the line, Nico has to decide if the risk is worth the ultimate reward.
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About the Author:
A small-town girl at heart, Kelly Siskind moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in Northern Ontario, Canada. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head.
She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—Gummy Bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.
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