Remember to be Thankful at Thanksgiving

As Thanksgiving nears, we need to stop and reflect on all the things we’re thankful for. So here are my own personal thanks.

I am thankful for friends I can count on to brighten my day, a nice house to live in and a husband who loves me and tells me so during television commercials as he’s flipping the remote control. I’m even thankful for my dog who was a goat in a previous life and ultra thankful I got to her last night before she ate hubby’s box of Ex-Lax. I’m thankful for family members who will tell me how much they love my books and wait to get them for presents only to set them on the bookshelf telling people I wrote it but who never crack the binding. I am thankful to the postman who rarely loses my mail except when it’s a letter from an editor or my new contract. I am thankful for the countless agents I’ve contacted and the nice way they say no by sending me a form letter rejecting my manuscript. Those whose e-mails didn’t get to me after several months, never fear, I know you e-mailed me, but it was simply lost in cyberspace. And to those sending me rejections by mail, I appreciate the time it took for you to put that postcard in my SASE envelope, IF it got to me because it could be one my postman simply misplaced.

There are so many blessings around us all the time like those my friends ask me to send out to my twenty friends or I’ll be cursed. I know they only mean well. After all, my true wish will become reality in twenty-four hours if I do. I also appreciate all those who send me warnings so I can avoid being mugged, defrauded or have ten years of bad luck and who forward e-mails that will win me a new computer from Dell or an IPod if I forward it, even if they don’t check Snopes.com before they sent it. But most of all, dear friend, I appreciate your taking time to read this and if your post doesn’t show up, I understand you commented, but the website wouldn’t let your post go through.

May your Thanksgiving be filled with thanks and wellbeing! And remember: No matter what genre, I always write comedy.

More Great News

My book, Craigs' Legacy, a time travel to the Civil War period co-written with Linda Campbell as Terry Campbell, will be re-released on February 11, 2011 as a debut book by new publisher, Black Opal Books. This book started it all, though not the first one to get published, and is one that has never had the proper opportunity to shine. Love it and hope you folks will too.

Santa Claus and Imagination

When I was deciding on a blog post for today, I ran across a mother’s blog on the Internet. I won’t mention the name and only give sketchy details. Suffice to say she’s a former follower of a faith with strong religious convictions and is now an atheist living in another country. In this particular blog, the mother mentions she doesn’t believe in telling her children either Santa or God are real. She says that because she has told them Santa’s not real and her children still have active imaginations, it proves Santa isn’t necessary. I don’t know what she’d say about leaving them devoid of faith in a divine being.

It seems one of her sons has invented a new solar system with multiple giant Earths where a special breed of carnivorous plants live with high intelligence. They have a different numeric system that goes to nine and then has three numbers they have manufactured in their native tongue. He also has invented a heat miser and snow miser who control the weather and a train miser that sends trains around the world. Now, add to that the fact this kid also invented a Pirate Santa Claus with no eye patch who has a sister with a long white beard.

Well, I formed an entirely different conclusion to this woman’s suggestion that imagination exists without Santa. In my estimation, this child apparently is trying to come to grips with a world in which two important beliefs have been taken away from him. I believe Santa Claus exists to give a child a sense of wonder when he is young and that child, hopefully, can carry that same precious wonder on into his adult life, even after he knows the Santa character was just make-believe. For what Santa symbolizes is real. As for God, well, he may not be an all-knowing being living in the sky, but in my humble opinion, God is as real as that divine spark that lives inside us and makes us have lively imaginations just like that woman’s son.

Thankfully, the little boy has chosen his own path. Maybe he’ll grow up to be a great fantasy writer.

Now that's a Mystery

I read an review the other day that said most fantasies don’t have a mystery in them, and I began to wonder about that. I’m not sure that’s true, because to me it seems most fantasies have the hero/heroine searching for something. If they don’t know what it is, isn’t that a mystery? Even in my romantic comedies, the main characters are searching for a fundamental truth.

But, I have noticed as I write more straight mystery novels and turn to higher adventure fantasies, that the two become inexplicably combined in my fantasies (maybe a touch of magic even shows up in my mysteries).

In an upcoming series that I have, strange things start to happen and even the earth angels involved can’t figure out how they’re occurring. For instance, what’s going on when a car appears to have driven by itself, no driver, or when lions suddenly appear in the back yard. What’s with the huge buzzard that keeps crashing into windshields? Then there’s the mysterious question of why the main character’s mother-in-law is being guarded by an archangel.

In my latest co-written work, It’s Magic, released this month, the hero and heroine are searching for a love that has evaded them their whole lives. More importantly, they are searching for that one thing that will make them truly happy in their own skin. At the beginning, neither person is filled with wonder but beaten down by everyday life. To make matters even more interesting, mysterious things begin to happen, like everyone seemingly knowing what they’re doing all the time. How? Snakes not indigenous to the US also show up in Virginia and suddenly all the condoms are missing in Chesterfield County. Who could be behind all the mysterious occurrences they are now experiencing?

Piqued your interest? It’s Magic is available any day now. The other series I mentioned will be out late next year. You can read more about it and others on my website, www.DarynCross.com . For now, just remember that if someone says there’s no mystery in fantasy, you can ask them if they know how it will end when they begin. Not that’s a mystery.

Happy Monday!

Short story tralier

My short story, 6,000+ words, is in an e-anthology just released by L&L Dreamspell Halloween evening. The trailer is below. If you enjoy and would like to read, the buy link is below.



BUY LINKS:

12 Perfect Days
Dreamspell Haunts Volume 1 (ebook anthology)
http://www.lldreamspell.com/DreamspellHauntsVol1.htm
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-dreamspellhauntsvolume1-477920-140.html

Welcome Author Jaleta Clegg

Jaleta Clegg is an author of science fiction adventure, comic fantasy, and silly horror. Her newest work Nexus Point, the Fall of the Altairan Empire Book 1 is available from Cyberwizard Productions.

How did you come up with your latest title?

Nexus Point is a starting point, a beginning. This book sets the stage for the rest of the series. The Fall of the Altairan Empire is space opera, a grand sweeping tale of galactic civilizations crumbling as told by those at the crux of the crisis. I wanted a title for the first book that hinted at where the series was headed.

What is Nexus Point about?

Nexus Point says it's book one, but don't let that fool you. The book is a complete story. It's told by Dace, the main character for the series. She's been out of the Patrol Academy for only a couple of months, following her dream of owning her own trading ship. But her crew betrays her, sabotaging her ship, and stranding her on a planet locked in a feudal level of technology. The natives of the planet want to kill her because she's a demon. Drug smugglers on the planet want her dead because they think she's working for the competition. The Patrol agent on the planet thinks she's working for the smugglers. Everywhere Dace turns, people want her dead. Ever hear the phrase, "Out of the frying pan, into the fire?" That's how Dace feels as she tries to find a way to get off the planet and back to real civilization. If you're looking for a fast-paced adventure story, Nexus Point never slows down.

What books have influenced your life most?

I read just about everything I can get my hands on. I've lost track of how many books I own. There are several authors that really stand out, though. Andre Norton will always be my favorite SF author. I discovered her books when I was still in grade school. Reading them again is like visiting with old friends. Other authors that have influenced me include Elizabeth Moon, Julie Czerneda, Madeline L'Engle, Isaac Asimov, and Larry Niven. There are many, many others I could list, but those are the ones that stick out. The Bible and The Book of Mormon are the only non-fiction books I'd list. I wouldn't be who I am without that influence.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?

I've had the privilege of meeting many SF/F authors through my work at conventions. Most of them are wonderful, caring people. They take time to en-courage new authors, giving a few words of advice when asked. I can't say any of them have been a mentor for me, not personally, but their example and especially their writing, have inspired me to tell my own tales.

What are your current projects?

I'm currently in edits for Priestess of the Eggstone, book 2 in my series. Lots of fun and excitement going on for Dace, who's in trouble again. I've got stories in three different anthologies. "Omega Museum", a hard SF story about the museum of the last, in The Last Man Anthology from Sword & Saga Press just released. "Always a Bridesmaid", a silly zombie story, in Rotting Tales: A Zombie Anthology from Pill Hill Press is scheduled to release any day. "The Effect of Degraded Food Supplies on Indigenous Populations", a classic vam-pire story, is in "Fangs, Vol. 1", an ebook anthology from L&L Dreamspell Press, which is due out soon. I've got more stories in the works in various an-thologies and magazines. The complete list, and links, are on my website. http://www.jaletac.com Keeping track of all of them is proving harder than I anticipated.

I'm also putting together an anthology for my publisher, Cyberwizard Pro-ductions. Titled "Wandering Weeds: Tales of Rabid Vegetation", my co-editor and I are looking for stories about vicious, nasty, evil tumbleweeds. Details are on the blog: http://wanderingweeds.blogspot.com/

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

Where do I start? No, really, I struggle with beginnings. When I start a book, I have to get to know the characters, the setting, the plot, everything. It's a very stressful social situation. My characters are real. Sometimes I have to wander for several pages before the characters start talking to me. Then I have to weave it into the story. Knowing where to jump into the action is more difficult than it seems. This is why editing and rewriting are so important. I've got several trusted friends that have no trouble telling me when I miss. I want that opening to grab you and drag you into the story, plus it's got to make you care about the characters. It's a difficult dance.

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Same as what I've heard from everyone else: Keep writing. Every day. Find something to write- a blog post, a poem, an essay, a chapter, a short descrip-tion, a story, whatever you can squeeze into every day. If you're too busy to write, you aren't a writer yet. I work a part-time job, run two businesses out of my home, sew costumes and quilts, and have eight kids of my own. I write as my escape. It keeps me sane to write my insane stories. Maybe that's why I do so many silly horror stories. And adventures. I crave the escape. If one thing isn't working, I've got a million other ideas to play with.

Second piece of advice: BACKUP! Save those files often. And back them up on a flash drive or somewhere else not on your computer at least once a week. Nothing is more frightening than realizing you've just lost months of work. Keep multiple backups of every piece you write. You won't regret it. You will regret NOT doing it.

Thanks for inviting me to your blog today. It was great visiting with you!

Nexus Point: The Fall of the Altairan Empire Book 1Purchase links all at http://www.nexuspoint.info

Excerpt:
I clawed my way through thickets and brambles. I dodged past barely seen trees. I splashed through streams and tore my feet on rocks. I was lost in the woods with animals that wanted to eat me. I ran until my side ached and I couldn't breathe.

I stumbled to a stop. Grasses waved in a light breeze. Mist rose from a stream, thin streamers of white that faded only a few feet above the ground. I dropped to my knees, trembling from fear. My stomach heaved. I retched up nothing.

The grass in front of me slowly parted. I stared into a wide face of evil green eyes and huge fangs. The animal snarled, showing more teeth. I didn't have the breath to run any longer. I scrabbled through the grass until I found a big rock. I staggered to my feet, hefting the rock in shaky arms.

"Go away," I said, my voice squeaking with fear. "You aren't going to eat me." I lifted the rock to my shoulder. My muscles protested.

The creature shot a look over its shoulder, then bounded away into the night.

I let out a slow breath. Something had just scared the creature. That something would be bigger and meaner. Fear shivered along my spine. I held the rock higher, ready to throw it at the new threat.

He came out of the mist like a primeval god in a really bad romance vid–dark hair, darker eyes, and a face stolen from my most secret fantasies. He wore a leather vest with no shirt, tight pants, and tall boots. He stopped on the other side of the stream, muscles flexing as he folded his bare arms across his chest.

I swallowed hard, wondering if he was just a dream. I shifted my feet on the stream bank. "What do you want?"

New Short Stories out in E-anthologies!

Linda Campbell and I, under our pseudonym, Terry Campbell, have two stories out today on All Romance Ebooks, released through L&L Dreamspell. They will be out in other formats soon, i.e., Kindle Nook, iPad. Check them out:

"Man in the Moon,"
Dreamspell Mystery Volume 1 (ebook anthology)
http://www.lldreamspell.com/DreamspellMysteryVol1.htm
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-dreamspellmysteryvolume1-477918-152.html


"12 Perfect Days,"
Dreamspell Haunts Volume 1 (ebook anthology)
http://www.lldreamspell.com/DreamspellHauntsVol1.htm
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-dreamspellhauntsvolume1-477920-140.html

Video trailers of both are up at www.TerryCampbell.com

Happy Halloween--------from some of Daryn Cross' Critters

Character Overload

I was hit yesterday with a severe case of character overload. If you’re a writer, I know this has happened to you. It may even happen to a reader if you read several books at the same time. How do you do that last thing, you ask? I don’t have a clue, but one of my friends says she does, so I doubt she’s alone. Anyway, my definition of character overload is a condition in which all the characters you have, whether in books being edited, in the work you’re currently writing or who are plotted and awaiting their opportunity for the turn of your pen (or computer keystroke), begin to war in your mind for dominance.

When this happens to me, I find myself balanced on a piece of threadlike wire, hopping from thought to thought and unable to settle down and make noticeable progress in one project, ANY project. Yesterday, Editor 1 sent me a proof to go over one last time in the middle of my doing front edits for Editor Number 2. Five minutes after Editor number 1 set me the proof, a potential Editor Number 3 sent me a note saying she loves my book and please send the whole manuscript. Then there’s the proposal I just sent off to a potential Agent Number 1 re: yet another work.

I doubt I’ll ever have Alzheimer’s because my mind gets a great work out. I may, however, end up with one heck of a case of multiple personality disorder. So, as a result of all this, it’s time to sit back and entertain you with a fractured harried married writer poem, Character Uprising.

CHARACTER UPRISING

My characters are not too pleased,
With whom I’ve written them to be,
They’ve been grumbling, and they might
Form a union, go on strike.

It seems my hero thinks I’ve goofed,
By showing he’s a bit aloof,
My heroine wants to have big breasts,
Now she has a small flat chest.

The other beings moan and wail,
They claim there’s not enough detail,
And all of them agree they’re not,
Happy with my crafted plot.

My hero says that he will fight,
Until I make him more a knight,
My heroine has clammed right up.
Until she’s curvy, she won’t budge.

And as for all the rest of them,
They’re plotting wildly, full of vim
And vigor, certain they can steal,
My story, make it seem quite real.

And there I sit and cannot write
Because they finally went on strike,
Crushed, I give up, let them tell
Me how to write them so they’ll sell.

The moral of this all you see,
Is let your story be set free,
Ask the people in your tale,
To write themselves, and you won’t fail.

New interview up!

Come join me at:
http://blog.JulieALindsey.com

Learn about me, my characters and more!

Happiness and Hope

One day a few years ago when things weren’t going all that well, I wrote a poem and sent it in to an inspirational poetry contest and, to my surprise, it won first place and $100. I went on to publish it in a very thin book of poems, but afterwards, that poem appeared periodically on sites where people were in some kind of emotional distress. Years after, yet another poem I penned began to show up, once on an alcoholics anonymous site and again to go with a photograph by a beginning professional photographer. I began to think God does use us in mysterious ways. And so today, dear friends, I launch these out again for you and anyone who can use happiness and hope.

HAPPINESS

Happiness comes when you least expect,
It dances like ripples on life’s rejects,
It twinkles in fog on a crisp cool day,
It sparkles in the wink of a single sunray.

Happiness comes from deep inside,
You learn what’s important and follow your guide.
It comes with love that’s freely supplied,
It’s never confused as a product of pride.

Happiness grows when you give it away,
The more that you give, the more you can save.
Happiness comes when you simply give in,
To the power of the Savior living within.


HOPE
Based on Romans 8:24

Hope is the boat we sail,
Through trouble’s rough, high seas,
It saves us from the winds,
That threaten constantly.

It’s something we can’t see,
Still, we wish for that one thing.
It’s there, but we can’t feel
With hands the light it brings.

It’s what we’ll have for life,
Yet, never will we hold,
But through our times of strife,
Its power will be bold.

And hope’s great final gift,
To those who patiently
Do wait until its time,
Will be eternity.

I Have a New Cover!

The publishers say this book, co-written by L.J. DeLeon and me, will be in electronic format prerelease in a few days. I'll let you know when and announce a special promotion.

IT'S MAGIC Release November 2010

Here's a description of the story line:
Can true love exist between a man who believes a woman is capable of sticking a shive in his heart while making love and a woman who is convinced men think with only one head? Maxwell Magic, an eccentric mysterious matchmaker swears it can and he’s the man to provide the stimulus to make it happen. Kasey Bell, feminist writer, and Guy McLane, radio’s famous chauvinistic psychiatrist, are his targets. Even with carefully executed plans, the road to true love is strewn with mishaps, mirth and money-hungry nighttime talk show hosts. Will Kasey and Guy risk their reputations by exposing secrets buried beneath layers of shame and self-doubt for a desperately needed big money pay-off? Or, will they claim what has evaded them their entire lives—a love that lasts forever?

Excerpt:
As Kasey followed the stagehand, Guy grimaced. Damn. Why’d she have to have sea-green eyes and be a natural, sun-streaked blonde? He was a sucker for natural blondes, she appeared to be one. Unlike his ex, Helen, he suspected Kasey Bell’s blonde hair wasn’t found just on her head.

His gaze took in her tight ass and long legs. God, what legs Some men were turned-on by big breasts. Others by asses. Not him. He was a leg man through and through. And Kasey had the best set he’d seen in years.

Her dress clung in all the right places and was designed to make a man forget his own name. Not that it had a chance with him.

Guy studied her the way a connoisseur would a fine wine. Vintage seventy-three. He took another long, slow perusal and shook his head. He was wrong. The body on this Cabernet Sauvignon came from a perfect year. More likely a seventy-eight or if he were lucky, a classic seventy-five.

He grinned as she smoothed the sides of her dress while continuing to cross the stage on her perfectly toned legs.

Definitely still corked. She hadn’t had a chance to breathe, yet. He inhaled sharply. There was no mistaking a good mellow grape when he saw one. And when squeezed just right, the grape was memorable. One to be savored, never gulped.

No question about it, Ms. Kasey Bell was premium sipping quality. First, he’d give her time to breathe. Then he’d taste her, a little at a time, a gentle swirl over the tongue, a teasing of the taste buds.

As he continued to examine her, Guy swallowed hard. From the way her dress moved and the lack of lines, she wore a thong and thigh-high hose. Her derriere was the perfect size for his hands to cup each cheek as he pulled her flush against him. He could feel her long legs wrapping around him. And then there were her delicate ankles. They were so slim his fingers could circle them.

The whole package was enough to bring a grown man to his knees. Especially one like him who’d been alone for last three years. God, help him. Because if he didn’t, Guy knew there was no way he’d maintain his cool while seated next to her on stage.

“Dr. McLane?”

Guy snapped to attention. Standing before him were two lanky young men. “Yes.”
“I’m Josh Bell. This is my younger brother Jacob.”

Guy thrust out his hand and greeted each boy. “I understand you want to take some photos.”

“Yes, sir,” Josh answered.

“You’re our hero.”

Jacob frowned at Josh’s sharp jab to his ribs and Guy laughed. “What does your mother think of that?” He grinned as the two boys looked at each other, shrugged, then turned back to him.

“She hates it,” they said together.

“Dr. McLane, you’ve got two minutes.”

“Thanks, Al.” He turned to the boys. “We’d better get those photos taken.”
Guy started to move, then grimaced, again. Damn. He hadn’t reacted to a female this rapidly since adolescence. Back then, much to his embarrassment, all it’d taken was a slight breeze to get a reaction out of him. And at thirty-eight, the last thing he wanted was to look like a coat rack in some kids’ photos. “Both of you stand here,” he said, positioning the boys in front of him.

As Al Mack took more than a dozen photos, Guy wondered what it was about Kasey Bell that rang his chimes. They’d never met, yet he’d swear he’d seen her before.
Ah, well, he’d remember eventually. He never forgot a pair of legs, especially ones as spectacular as Kasey’s.

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