Google, Bing, Ask and many other search engines are visited by millions of readers every day in search of reliable information, and in today's lesson, I am going to show you how to increase your keyword search results on these search engines with Pinging and Indexing. 

Pinging / Indexing is a method by which a website is distributed to a server, or loads of servers, to notify them that a website's content has been updated.

A Ping Server may notify multiple other services when pinged, including;

• Search Engines
• Website Directories
• News Websites
• Aggregators
• Feed Websites
• And Many Others

Pinging and Indexing are the best and fastest way of getting your published URLs and blogs listed online in the search engines. And in other for the Ping service to work, you would need a set of strong keywords to make the search engine results a manifesto.

If you are a published author, your best keywords would be your BOOK TITLES and AUTHOR'S FULL NAME.

Keywords are very important, especially to a non-fiction writer who may title their book something like 'The Re-enactment of the Civil Right Movement.' This book title on its own (not yet taken) is a powerful set of words, and would definitely get some hits online from curious readers online if the book's URL is properly distributed.

This is why naming your book title is the most important aspect of book publication, because it is the name and book title that your readers would have to remember forever, and share.

These examples below will show you how your book title and name could be used as your set of keyword websites. You will notice that all of these different URLs point to the same sales page on Amazon.

1. www.amazon.com/Fifty-Shades-Grey-Book-ebook/dp/B007J4T2G8. Fifty-Shades-Grey-Book-ebook are the keywords in the url, and B007J4T2G8 is the ISBN / ASIN publication number.
2. www.amzn.com/B007J4T2G8 Same as the website above, with no alphabetical keywords attached, but leads to the same site.
3. www.amazon.com/Fifty-Shades-Grey-E-James-ebook/dp/B007L3BMGA. Another format of the same website, with the keywords, author's name, and ASIN publication number attached.

There are few other formats, much longer ones, that I could paste here, but these three samples prove the point. If you ever wondered why 'Fifty-Shades-of-Grey' received so many views, apart from the great writing, it is because of this thing call SEO algorithm, used by amazon, BN, Apple, Google and every other aggregate websites..

• IMT Website Submitter submits your website/blog to 1,800+ different places. All these 1,800+ websites are mainly "who is", "about us", "website statistic", etc. type of services. This tool creates pages about your website/blog onto every one of these websites, resulting in about 1,800+ different pages in some cases with backlinks pointing back to your website. Yes some of those backlinks are no-follow and some of them are do-follow, but bottom line is that these are well-established websites regularly crawled by Google and other SE, so your pages and backlinks/URLs on those websites will be found and your website/blog will get backlinks/mentions and will be visited and indexed more frequently by Googlebot and many other search engine bots like Yahoo, Bing, Baidu, etc., which is the main purpose of this tool, backlinks are just nice bonus.

• Index Kings submits your URLs to various statistic sites. These sites give a value of your URLs and also provide a free link back to your site. This rapid indexer sends your URLs to over 15,000 sites that would promote the site link and get you instant backlinks and Rapidly gets your URLs indexed by Google! 

• Google Webmaster Tool adds new sites to google.com, and updates existing ones, every time the search engine crawls the web.

• Bing Webmaster Tool submit the URL of your site to Bing, Yahoo, and few other search engines.

Now, these are the three methods that we would recommend you practice if you are interested in indexing your websites. 

1. Copy your Indie Writers Support profile link (website URL) and submit it to the Indexing / Pinging websites above. The contents published on your profile would automatically become your keywords.
2. Submit your very own Author's website, if you have one, to the same Indexing / Pinging websites above.
3. Submit your Barnes&Noble's, Goodreads, and Amazon's keyword-attached URLs (like the three samples provided) to the same Indexing / Pinging websites above. 

As respite from writing I often take to the workshop, even in winter. Yesterday offered an opportunity to grasp an hour or two of sunshine and milder air. Making vessels out of the clay distracts and facilitates a space in my mind, so the next paragraph of the uncompleted novel can begin to emerge.  

The porcelain seems ready to become four simple forms and I leave them to reflect upon their position and resolution after the clay and I have joined forces, handling each other well in such a variable climate.   

Tomorrow is murk, wet, and the clay looks back at me with a glistening sheen as I open the door.

I do not linger, neither the forms nor I need to acknowledge more than a ‘salut’. I will take them into the kitchen on Sunday to dry a little; ready for the turning, firing and combining with the fine artist’s leather.

 A collection of vessels.

An installation of fused resonances based upon the ancient birch wood in the fen. A reminder that earth, form and decomposition are fundamental certainties and will remain so when we have disappeared and nature reclaims its place. Untrammelled. I am at that point in my story.

The ancient birch wood stands upon black peat as it has always done, the land around drained into manageable and navigable droves and dykes, tall reeds still in abundance. Old roads many have crossed and travelled. A palpable presence.

Parts of the wood are almost inaccessible unless one knows a way through and can sense the way out again. There is immense stillness always, so the smallest sound is an audible detail.

A day in late summer, warm and full of light, the path taken between the field and the inner sanctum of the cool interior. A red deer stared and I at it, both of us stopping for an instant, then it gone and I moving silently on. The image transformed into a dragon fly next to me in the bracken on its way to the water’s edge.

The fen wood can be seen from the train as it passes on its way to or from the cathedral city, set in its shallow saucer of land, flat for as far as the eye can trace. The horizon, just visible at the far end of an old ocean bed now fertile, dusty black and overworked. I have looked out at the wood, from the train, for as long as I can remember and have always felt that I am almost home. This is one place of belonging.

The birch wood gifts its secrets to the unassuming eye, soothing a too busy mind.

The clay clears the head and focusses perspective; I have the fragments of the next chapter.

Yeats’s hazel wood gives up a silver trout and a glimmering girl, the juxtaposition produces a faerie image of transformation, one might be in danger of stretching the point here, although it would fit the poet’s provenance.

Both birch and hazel wood are redolent of the natural process of things and of time passing.  Both are guardians of the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun.  

Jenny Dunbar

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Imagine being able to add five thousand members of the Amazon Book Clubs to your Facebook's close circle (friend list). That's right, since every member (24,000+) of the Amazon Book Clubs are book enthusiast, where else would be the best place to invite/add other like-minded book-loving friends? These people are looking forward to meeting you, that's why they joined. 

Tedious, time consuming, boring, strange etc are words that could be associated with the task of inviting new friends on Facebook, hoping you'll get to know them or they would know you.  In fact, meeting and introducing yourself to new people use to be an old tactic way of book promotion, especially when a firm promise to raise your Facebook presence (friend's list) to 2,000+ fans.

Well. Today, we are now confident in telling you that you can now gain that five thousands book-like-minded new friends on Facebook in a matter of few days, with a task that will only take you 10 minutes to carry out. It is not a trick, it is a software, designed specifically for this purpose and others as well. It could extract the UIDs (user i.d's) of any Facebook group members, and give you the option to invite them as friends. If you are not a member of Amazon Book Clubs you would need join the group first before you can extract the members UIDs.

UIDs are a set of identification numbers assigned to every Facebook users. If you are a Facebook user, this software would show you what your UID is.

This tutorial video would show you how to carry out some of the functionalities of this software; http://indiewritersupport.com/video/how-to-use-facebook-blaster-software-tutorial.

• ✔  Auto Mass Friend Requests
• ✔  Auto Mass Friend Messages
• ✔  Auto Mass Friend Wall Poster
• ✔  Auto Mass Friend Poker
• ✔ Auto Mass Amber Alerts
• ✔  Auto Mass Captcha Bypass

To broadcast a message to all of your Facebook friends with this software, all you would have to do is extract and save your friends UIDs and use the Messenger tab in the software to send the message into their inbox all at once. For best measure, do not send more than 200 friend request or messages a day using this software. 

Upgraded members (PREMIUMS) of our network were supplied a copy of this software as part of their earned service. You can get yours too, and the many more to come, by joining this Exclusive Group. You may also download the software from this Restricted Page, accessible only with payment.

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I discovered this little tidbit on a blog for writers who have Word 2010. I'm not a computer Guru, but It actually works! I only wish the voice sounded like Morgan Freeman.

"If you have Word 2010 you have, as a writer, a brilliant free tool at your fingertips. How many times have you wished that you could “hear” your own work back so that you can tell immediately whether it sounds right?

It takes a few minutes to install this tool but it is worth every second. Once you have this on your tool bar you simply highlight the paragraph you wish to hear and click on the microphone icon to hear if the words flow."

It would be wrong to say all things are circular, but it is interesting how the narrative can often nuance its starting point as one ties the ends up. Endings, like beginnings, are really vital ingredients and so hard to pitch exactly right. What do I hope my reader will feel here? Does the weight of the last paragraph leave us in mid air, bring us down to earth with a thump, or just miss the point entirely?

 This week as I have contemplated the ending of my story/ novel, I have been surprised as I moved the pieces of the jigsaw around slightly, how the time element suddenly made more chronological sense. Why did that not seem obvious before? How an automatic reflection upon an earlier part of the story seemed to take over and gave me another thread to sew with. I touched the primary characters again and hopefully they will touch my reader.

I know I mess around with time in my stories, I shift and vary, but this is a conscious decision, is worked out and not a random action. Hence a great deal of thought is involved and time spent in searching for what one hopes is a viable and credible end product.

Intense scrutiny into the completed draft is an arduous, but essential part of the creative process and actually releases some new ideas. That, of course, produces more reflection and inevitably more work. When I say, ‘completed draft, ’I do not mean the finished item, but it is getting there, thanks to those ever increasing circles which force me to meet my characters again and think about their raison d’etre.        

Anecdotes. They attach themselves, not quite as many coloured patches, but rather in the way one lengthens a dart, refining a point and hopefully streamlining the effect. If by some lucky chance this enhances the angle, pace and emotion of the words then craft has gone some way to creating a little  art in the narrative. We live in hope!

Thematic or formulaic?  On analysis, which is inevitable as one reads through and reads through again, themes as opposed to formulas crop up in my work. Water themes, mystical themes, themes of juxtaposition and abstracted landscape.They occur out of my imagination and I work with them, or discard them if they do not seem right. Oh! And sometimes a dash of alienation.

I do not plan in great detail, but I analyse and work in great detail.  That is just my way and a definite pattern emerges. When the knitting, patching and darting start to be necessary that pattern is hopefully made clearer and more resonant by its complexity.

The words wake me up late at night and the next part of the tale begins to take shape. I do not have a pen and paper beside me, but let the ideas fester and a version of those ideas will come to mind, if I am lucky, when I begin to write. And of course one thing leads to another, sometimes usefully, sometimes not.

At times the words rush round in those ever increasing circles I mentioned earlier and I am pleased when I wash my hair which seems to purge the demons.

We all have our versions of the ‘how’ we create I wonder what some of yours are?

Well what about the element of fire ? I have pots in the kiln and anticipate opening it tomorrow morning. If all is sound I will smoke fire the porcelain at some point and hope the shapes and patterning enhance the form.

Jenny Dunbar www.lockpublishing.com/dunbar.html

Several years ago a good friend of mine told me that I should write down a lot of my adventures because I had lived such an adventurous life. Then a year or so ago, a good friend of mine (and former high school Spanish student who is very gifted in all things computer) after having run my web-site for several years suggested that I write a blog.

 I agreed as I thought it might help the sales of my books, which seem to be coming out about one a year. At first I thought I should write a “how to” blog on screenwriting tips and writing readability in general. This lasted for about the first dozen or so blogs. Slowly but surely my blog went from the art of how to get words onto a page to a series of personal adventures. Instead of writing grammatical rules and script writing techniques, I finally found my niche—life adventures that one can translate to the written page.

 Most people when they think of the word adventure, they think of something exciting and unusual. It may also be a bold, usually risky undertaking with an uncertain outcome. The term also broadly refers to any enterprise that is potentially fraught with physical, financial or psychological risk such as a business venture or other major life undertaking.

 Since I changed over to “adventure writing”, you will obviously have noticed that my stories are all over the map literally—some high adventures and some quite small and home grown. For example: My adventures in growing up in Okolona, Mississippi; my adventures with some of my relatives and people I have known; my adventures in foreign lands and situations, my selling Fitzgerald’s Happiness Tonic.

In my blogs, I show how I have used all of these adventures in my writing. I really don’t have to sit and dream up plot complications. The way I have lived my life is enough to just pluck an adventure from my memory and transfer it to one of my screenplays, novels or stage plays.

I suppose I have been trying to show that if you want to become a writer, you must live first—that means get an undergraduate degree from the University of the World and a Graduate degree from the University of Hard Knocks. I have degrees from both. Actually this is what my friend was suggesting: Write down some of your coursework at both of those universities.

 A couple of years ago I attended a high school reunion in my hometown of Okolona, Mississippi. I reunited with my best friend growing up. We were inseparable for all those teenage years. Then at age 19 we separated; he went to a Christian Bible School to become a preacher and I went off to Mexico, California, the Army, and a wide range of adventures in life. At that reunion, we hadn’t seen one another for 55 years. Even so, we took back up in our chatting like it had only been a weekend ago that we had seen one another. He told me after a bit, “You certainly have lived an adventurous life.” Then the next day from the pulpit after introducing me to his congregation he said, “Jack went to Hollywood and I went to Jesus .” In a way, I suppose he was saying Jesus was his adventure in life and mine was Hollywood and the worldly universe.

 I know that a lot of things I write about sound like high adventure and many of them are—like being caught up in the Cuban Revolution—like being arrested in East Berlin for black market currency dealing—like hitch hiking and getting picked up by some army guys who had stolen a car and were awol, etc. etc.

 Adventure is where one is involved in a bit of danger or where your livelihood is at stake or you are taking a chance of some kind. Those are the most popular adventures we like to hear about. However, we can make life an adventure on a much smaller level. I remember when I was young there was a Hillbilly comedienne named Minnie Pearl out of The Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, TN. She was pretty much the country Joan Rivers of her day. She could make ordinary happenings hilarious. In the process, she became famous and wealthy and beloved.

 So you see, adventure is where you find it. Some people get it in the kitchen. Julia Child made omelets an adventure and caught millions of people up in her world.

So just like my friend when he told me to put some of my adventures down on paper, I’m telling you the same thing. Put some of your adventures down on paper. You’ve had as many as I have but maybe just in your own way. You can keep them to yourself or you can share them—and then if they are interesting enough, they become adventures for others!

 Adventure is where you find it and most importantly, what you make of it.

Cheers, put a little adventure in your life today. As Helen Keller said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”

What is the most important characteristic a writer should have? The ability to question everything.

Every tale I’ve written began with a series of what ifs.

What if a child was thrown into a world where magic was real? What if a young girl is given the most powerful weapon in her world? What if a man discovered he was really a demon? The list is as endless as the imagination.

But what if is rarely enough to carry a story. From each what if, dozens of answers can evolve and the writer become hopelessly confused by trying to unite them into something resembling a tale.

For me, the next question is, why?

Why this character and not someone else? Why are they in this situation? Why would a reader be interested in them?

However, why is more than these. As far back as any of us remember, we are taught there are certain truths in this world and that reality is a hard-and-fast concept we must each face. This, of course, presupposes everyone’ s truths and everyone’s realities are the same? By the time we realize we are writers, we (should) know that truth and reality only stand as long as no one asks why.

Why do we believe we have certain inalienable rights when we can see it is not true in many places around the world? Aren’t these just privileges society grants or abridges at its whim?

Why do we accept the world is a sphere when, wherever we see it from, it appears as a convex disk? Is it possible only the portion we see exists and anything else we believe is in a dimension we only imagine?

The whys are not as important as the answers. Our responses are what generate the ideas we need to create worlds.

However, the ability to develop unique and interesting answers needs to be exercised.  From my perspective, every writer needs to set aside a few hours each week to let impressions flow and coalesce into ideas.

I am fortunate. I spend an average of 15 hours a week driving. This is my time to turn off the radio, ignore the phone and let the mind wander. During these moments, I recall events I’ve seen and play what if and why. Over the years the ability has grown until it is second nature. I see what is around me and simultaneously see many things they could be.

Yesterday I stopped in a place named Bachi Burger to look at the menu. The hostess asked whether she could help me so I asked if the burgers were made from real Bachi. She looked confused (as many people do when I respond to their serious questions) and told me she didn’t know what a Bachi was. I told her they were a cute little creatures from the land of Neverwas that tasted better than beef. They were in no danger yet, but what would happen if her restaurant chain expanded? She had no response so I decided it was probably best to leave. As I turned to go, she thanked me for telling her about Bachies.

My kids tell me I do a great deal to bring confusion into the world.

The point of all this though, is that learning to see with what if followed by why generates an endless stream of plots. I attribute the blessing of never knowing a day of writer’s block to the fact these questions have become automatic.

I know there are other questions of equal importance for writers to have constantly on their brain. I’ll address those in future posts.

What a pleasure it has been to interview and get to know Lisa Marie Redfern, author of the Haylee e-trilogy and Haylee and the Traveler’s Stone (print book soon to be released). Not only is she a wonderful writer, but her talent doesn’t stop there. As an accomplished artist, photographer, and business woman, Lisa stretches the boundaries of her art and her way with words/imagery, enticing followers to dip their toes into the rippling waters of imagination.

Q: Books, movies and even television shows these days are delivering a steady stream of plots that involve the undead, the unreal, and the wickedly supernatural. In your opinion, what accounts for society’s longstanding fascination with characters that are not completely human?

A: A cultural theme occurs when lots of people have similar ideas and begin exploring it in depth. We take our collective temperature with questions such as; What are we afraid of? What defines us as human? How far can we stretch our imagination? What does it mean to be ‘different? and How would it feel to be powerful and untouchable? I think the dark nefarious vampires, zombies, and wickedly supernatural characters that are popular today are reflections of our attitudes and worries about the cultural and economic conditions that we live in.

Q: Tell us how you came up with your title.

A: Hyale is a daughter of the Greek gods Oceanus and Tethys. The character Haylee, and the book title, is roughly based on this name…with a modern twist.

Q: Alfred Hitchcock was a master at making cameo appearances in all of his movies. Does Lisa Redfern employ any signature tricks or insider jokes that we should know about?

A: Absolutely! Although I won’t reveal them all—I will say that many of the animal names were family pets. The Rattler/Lovey storyline was based on a rescue dog named Bandit. He lived up to his name. Once it was changed to Happy, he was much easier to live with. Lovey was one of our pet cats.

Q: Tell us about your female protagonist, and the passions that drive her thoughts and actions.

A: Haylee has spent most of her childhood living with a wounded parent—she takes on responsibilities beyond most children her age. She attempts to stay out-of-sight and out-of-mind as much as possible, has an affinity for animals, and possesses a quick mind; she aspires to become a veterinarian. But things don’t go according to plan. When it becomes clear that her strange condition poses a threat to her loved ones, she drops everything to figure out how to stop it. Along her adventurous journey, we see a maturing inner resolve, self-direction, and a belief that something good can be born from facing a problem head-on.

Q: In Haylee and the Traveler’s Stone, Haylee is transported to the turbulent backdrop of the San Francisco Gold Rush in 1849. During this time in California history, the population was dominated by young male adventurers who came from all over the world. Why did this specific era personally resonate with you?

A: I feel connected to this time period because it is woven into the historical fabric of where I live—in the heart of Gold Country. I wanted to develop a deeper understanding about what life was really like by bringing alive the sights, sounds, smells, and textures of that time. In my research, I discovered fun and quirky facts that may not have made their way into commonly read history books.

Q: What do you hope this book will accomplish?

A: My goal is to suck the reader into a vortex of altered time where his/her own life fades out for a while as Haylee’s story takes center stage. Isn’t that the ultimate definition of a good book—to entertain? Along with entertainment, I included those quirky facts (mentioned in the question above), because I want the readers to have something memorable to keep. If Haylee readers (who visit San Francisco) are able to see the city in a new way, I will be thrilled!

Q: Have your characters ever done anything that surprised you?

A: I usually arrive at my keyboard with an outline and longish, handwritten essays that fill in sections of the outline. Days of thought and nights of dreams have gone by as I’ve worked out the complexities of what I plan to write. It is a surprise when I’m typing away and a character goes in another direction…or says something unexpected. They are usually right, but we have to argue about it for a little while before I relent. When I describe it that way, it sounds psychotic doesn’t it?

Q: The publishing industry continues to reinvent itself. The combined effects of downsizing at traditional publishers and the desire by authors to have more control over their intellectual property and pricing structure has led to an escalation in self-publishing endeavors. What are your thoughts on this issue, particularly the debate as to whether a self-published title is as “real” as one produced through traditional channels?

A: Every work published is real. It is meaningful to the person who wrote it, so it can’t be anything else. Prior to 2010, when iPads and e-readers hit the market en mass, publishing houses set the quality standards for reading material before it was released to the public. The flood of independent authors who are self-publishing has changed those standards.

As a consumer, I appreciate knowing that the book I am about to read has a reasonable chance of being good—in subject matter, clean page design, and very little grammatical or spelling errors. When you buy something that has been self-published, quality levels can be hit or miss.

As an artist and independent author, I love having the ability to self-publish. For the very first time in my work life I’m unencumbered and free to create my vision from start to finish. The creation process itself is highly satisfying. I place a great value on producing work that is ‘as good as’ anything that a publishing house would turn out. Fortunately, I have developed the skills to do most of it myself, but I also invest in areas where I need help—editing and some design assistance. There is something ironic about putting so much effort into a product that sells for .99¢, $3.00, or even $5.00. Like those adventuring pioneers who braved the treacherous seas and overland treks with the hope of finding gold, we authors are gambling that more than a few readers will push that shiny, rounded-rectangle button marked ‘buy.’

Q: In addition to being an author, you are also an artist and photographer with a busy home life. How do you find time to write?

A: Good organization is a must. I use a Google calendar synced with my smart phone. Sometimes other jobs have to go to the top of the ‘to do’ list. I get as much done as I can when my son is in school. I enter into my most efficient writing zone after everyone has gone to sleep and the phone isn’t ringing. I try very hard to remind myself to go to bed before it gets too late…

Q: Lisa, you are incredibly multi-talented, and your website, book trailer are amazing. What advice would you give to new writers/artists regarding building a social media or networking platform?

A: 1. Realize that platform building and gaining followers is something that takes time. It starts small and slowly increases over time.

2. Once you start participating in social media, know that you’ve created a ‘living’ thing that needs to be fed on a regular basis.

3. Start slow. Choose one or two sites that you think that you might enjoy. Stick with them until you are comfortable before moving on to more.

My social media ‘ah ha’ moment came with Pinterest. Because I am visual by nature and I enjoy organizing data, this was a perfect social site to start with.

Q: As an artist and writer, you are clearly an inspiration to others, but who inspires you? Have you benefited from the wisdom and/or counsel of a mentor? If so, who and why?

A: Inspiration comes from everywhere. To quote Christina Hamlet’s book Screenwriting for Teens, “Log into life. No password required.” Also, my artist friends inspire me when we spend time together setting up art shows, getting our hands dirty, or just sharing and talking about our work.

For authors, I follow the big guys—Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child, Barbara Kingsolver, and Jean Auel for starters. I also follow some of the rising independent author stars—Hugh Howey, Guy Kawasaki, Rysa Walker, and Chuck Wendig. I like studying how they present themselves online, how they interact with their fans, what kinds of stories they are writing next, and what rights they are selling.

My son has a big imagination; he and I have many humorous, “What if …” conversations. Being out in nature, photographing interesting animals, random conversations, seeing something online that grabs my attention, or even just being alone and quiet, are all areas of inspiration.

Q: You’re obviously drawn to the metaphysical and otherworldly in many aspects of your creativity and writing, sometimes blurring the lines between the real and fantastical. What is it that draws you in, or inspires you?

A: Underlying everything is the hope and faith that we are much more than just our physical existence. I think all life is connected, and should be respected and honoured as the incredible gift it is. The real magic in this world is love and our relationships with the people, animals and living things around us. That is what I always attempt to express in both my art and in my words.

Q: A lot of new writers think all they have to do is write a good story and their job is done, but today’s writers are expected to do so much more, whether self or traditionally published. What advice would you give to new writers just starting out on this very long journey?

A: I think that is an urban myth. How did that one ever get started? When I worked as a book publicist, I dreaded the inevitable moment when the author bubble would burst. Once it popped, fairy dust and glitter never spewed out and sprinkled to the ground.

My advice to authors just starting out is similar to the advice you gave in your interview for In the Spirit of Love. Always conduct yourself professionally online. Stick to it - give writing a permanent place at your table - live your life - do what you need to do…and then go back and write some more. Once you have a few books out there for sale, add to your regular routine time to feed the marketing machine.

Q: Many writers and artists struggle with following their creative path vs making a (normal) living, and being accepted in a world that often can’t understand what drives the creative mind. Have you struggled with this, and if so, how do you attempt to overcome it?

A: Oh yes! More than a few times, I’ve wondered if I was adopted. Most everyone in my family is an engineer, accountant, scientist, lawyer, or a business person. Conventional social norms hold the greatest respect for professions with the highest pay scales. If pay scales were based on job satisfaction, artists and writers would be where the venture capitalists and technology moguls are now. I don’t worry about people accepting me. I am who I am, I do what I do, and I am very happy about that.

Q: Where can readers discover more about you and your books online?

Author reads sample chapter
Audible.com
Lisa’s art portfolio & online store
Art and Words Blog
Google+
Goodreads
Twitter
reddit
Redfern Writing Facebook Page
Join Lisa’s author e-mail list

Lisa: Thank you for the opportunity to participate in a You Read It Here First interview. I enjoyed responding to your thoughtful questions. Additionally, it was a pleasure to become acquainted with you and Christina and your work

Writers are terribly self-centered.

Now, don’t get offended. I’m not really talking about all of you. I’m pretty much talking about me.

Strangely enough, I don’t think anyone in my non-writer life would label me an egoist. Or an egotist, for that matter. I had to look up the difference, but there isn’t much of a distinction, as far as I could tell.* Anyway, I can’t picture someone calling me either one of those. At least not to my face.

With my family, colleagues at my day job, and with neighbors and friends, I try to be a good listener. I try to be generous. I take time to be there for them, to encourage them when they’re down, to support them when they’re mourning. I care about family and friends and frequently make sacrifices for them.

I sound pretty great, don’t I?

Ahem. Read on.

In my writerly world, I am horrified to admit that I have recently come to learn I’m a HUGE egoist.

Look at the first few paragraphs in this piece. How many times did I use the word “I?” TWELVE! It’s always all about what I think, or what I noticed, or what I wrote. Isn’t it? (Of course, I guess it might be hard to write about what you think or notice. LOL.)

I started to ponder this recently when I had a confrontation with a friend, and she pointed out to me how much I write about **me**. After a bit of soul searching, I realized she was right.

But it got me to thinking.

I try to be a good guy. I really do. This is in spite of all the stupid things I do, like dribbling my red herbal tea on the new carpet at work yesterday (I spent an hour cleaning it) and consistently forgetting to attach files to emails. If it can be screwed up, I’ll do it.

So, I’m an egoist and a klutz.

That’s not all. No. Not only am I all of the above, I’m mean.

REALLY mean.

I am merciless to my characters. I put them through the wringer time and time again, without care for their suffering. I torment them. I make them endure horrible losses. I hurt ANIMALS, for God’s sake. Okay, so I rescue them in the end, but what kind of a jerk does that to poor, defenseless animals?

Sigh.

I suppose we writers can always pretend to sit back and be the philosophical documenter, the great observer, the quintessential Hemmingway-esque witness of life. But however life presents itself - brutal or tender, seedy or majestic - all fiction comes from our inside our own minds. It’s all about how we see it. How we imagine. How we think our characters would feel.

Isn’t it?

So, how do we compensate for being such egoists?

It’s not as bad as it sounds. It certainly isn’t hopeless, and I’m pretty sure we can redeem ourselves.

Maybe we can find redemption by setting good examples through our characters' actions while they're in the midst of dashing here or there during the page turning suspense.  One thing I never intended to do with my three mystery series was to teach lessons about nurturing a family, tending to a disabled wife, dealing with trauma or loss, or being a good father or grandfather. Those things just found their way into my books, because my characters do that stuff in their everyday lives. To my surprise, my readers have come back and thanked me for doing just that. It humbles me to think that by including some amusing family scenes in the middle of the mayhem, I might have actually done some good. One fellow actually told me I made him a better dad. And another wrote to say I got him through his chemo. Like I said, it’s all pretty darned humbling.

Can examples like these make up for my weaknesses and faults? For that great big ego? For my incessant ranting about me???

Man. I sure hope so.

Aaron Paul Lazar

www.lazarbooks.com

Egoist, noun

1. self-centered or selfish person (opposed to altruist).

2. an arrogantly conceited person; egotist.

Egotist, noun

1. a conceited, boastful person.

2. a selfish person; egoist.

copyright 2015, Aaron Paul Lazar

Books by multi-award winning author, Aaron Lazar:

LEGARDE MYSTERIES

DOUBLE FORTÉ (print, eBook, audio book)

UPSTAGED (print, eBook, audio book)  

TREMOLO: CRY OF THE LOON (print, eBook, audio book)

MAZURKA (print, eBook, audio book)

FIRESONG (print, eBook, audio book)

DON’T LET THE WIND CATCH YOU (print, eBook, audio book)

THE LIARS’ GALLERY (print, eBook, audio book)

SPIRIT ME AWAY (print, eBook, audio book)

UNDER THE ICE (print, eBook)

LADY BLUES (print, eBook, and audio book) 

MOORE MYSTERIES

HEALEY'S CAVE (print, eBook, audio book)

TERROR COMES KNOCKING (print, eBook, audio book)

FOR KEEPS (print, eBook, audio book)

TALL PINES MYSTERIES

FOR THE BIRDS (print, eBook, audio book)

ESSENTIALLY YOURS (print, eBook, audio book)

SANCTUARY (print, eBook, audio book)

BETRAYAL (print, eBook, audio book)

LOVE STORIES

THE SEACREST (print, eBook, and audio book)

THE SEACROFT (coming soon)

ROMANTIC THRILLERS

DEVIL’S LAKE (print, eBook, and audio book)

DEVIL’S CREEK (coming soon)

WRITING ADVICE: 

WRITE LIKE THE WIND, volumes 1, 2, 3  (audio books)

Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. An award-winning, bestselling Kindle author of three addictive mystery series, thrillers, love stories, and writing guides, Aaron enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his website at http://www.lazarbooks.com and watch for his upcoming releases, THE SEACROFT: a love story and DEVIL’S CREEK.

AWARDS:
The Seacrest

2014 Best Beach Book Festival WINNER, Romance category

2013 ForeWord Book Awards, Romance, FINALIST
Double Forté 

• 2012 ForeWord BOTYA, Mystery, FINALIST

Tremolo: cry of the loon –

• 2013 Eric Hoffer Book Awards: Grand Prize Short List
• 2013 Eric Hoffer Book Awards: Honorable Mention, Eric Hoffer Legacy Fiction
• 2011 Global eBook Award Finalist in Historical Fiction Contemporary
• 2011 Preditors & Editors Readers Choice Award – 2nd place Mystery
• 2008 Yolanda Renée's Top Ten Books
• 2008 MYSHELF Top Ten Reads

For the Birds

• 2011 ForeWord Book Awards, FINALIST in Mystery
• 2012 Carolyn Howard-Johnson's Top 10 Reads

Essentially Yours

• 2013 EPIC Book Awards, FINALIST in Suspense

• 2013 Eric Hoffer Da Vinci Eye Award Finalist
  Healey’s Cave

• 2012 EPIC Book Awards WINNER Best Paranormal
• 2011 Eric Hoffer Book Award, WINNER Best Book in Commercial Fiction
• 2011 Finalist for Allbooks Review Editor's Choice
• 2011 Winner of Carolyn Howard Johnson's 9th Annual Noble (not Nobel!) Prize for Literature
• 2011 Finalists for Global EBook Awards

 Terror Comes Knocking

• 2013 Global Ebook Awards, Paranormal – Bronze

For Keeps

• 2013 Semi Finalist in Kindle Book Review Book Awards, Mystery Category

Spirit Me Away

• 2014 AuthorsdB book cover contest, Silver medal.

www.lazarbooks.com

www.murderby4.blogspot.com

www.aaronlazar.blogspot.com

When I first started writing over a decade ago, I exulted in every new dialog tag I could think up. I preened over “he croaked” and purred over “she grumbled.” Finding new and inventive ways to say “he said” became my quest.

My early works were peppered with gloats, murmurs, and barks. I even started a most coveted (only by me) list.

How many words can you think of to say “he said” or “she said?” Here are some, in no particular order:

Got that part?

Now that I’ve encouraged you to use “said,” I’m going to retract it.

Forgive me, but that’s just the way it is. If you can avoid a tag altogether–through the clever use of action “beats”– then more power to you.

Here’s an example of changing a passage from lush useless tags, to he said/she said tags, to using beats instead of tags:

I maneuvered the van around the next pothole, and was about to congratulate myself for my superior driving skills when a series of washboard ruts nearly popped the fillings out of my teeth.

I maneuvered the van around the next pothole, and was about to congratulate myself for my superior driving skills when a series of washboard ruts nearly popped the fillings out of my teeth.

I maneuvered the van around the next pothole, and was about to congratulate myself for my superior driving skills when a series of washboard ruts nearly popped the fillings out of my teeth.

Add your own examples below, if you’d like. Let’s see some Case A, B, and C’s in the comments section!

But I didn’t stop. I worried about arriving late to work, and the sides of the road looked very slippery. So… another lost shot.

I recorded The Grammy's because I wanted to watch The Hunger Games for the first time. The Hunger Games represented one faction of society having control over another, to me. That movie had a huge impact on me as I fear it is a sign of the times. My son was walking to the convenience store, at my request, yesterday and a white man drove up, blocking his way, and accosted him. He screamed all kinds of ignorant statements because he was tired of “Drug Dealing Niggers,” walking down his street. We called the police and they went out to the man's house.

This ignorant man proceeded to attack the police because he feels the Police in our community are doing an awful job of keeping “Niggers” out of Lake Helen, Fl. where I live. He said the Police need to stop “Niggers” from moving here and especially stop “Niggers” from walking down his street! He also stated he did not like the way my son dresses, particularly the black “Doo Rag.” my son wears on his head. My son, at the young age of 31, has a badly receding hair line that makes him self conscience and he wears that garment to hide it. This man was arrested but of course out in 24 hours. The convenience store my son walks to is the only nearby convenience store in our area and the route my son takes is the only only route to reach that store. We do not own or can afford a car and my son enjoys walking. Are we to give up our right to go to the store because he has to pass by that man's house? Does this man have the right to reach into our lives and control us? Do you think I should ask my son to go to the store again and sit home in fear of him becoming the next Trayvon Martin? This man stopped his car in front of our house tonight and waited. My eight year old Grandson ran to me frightened and screaming. As I ran to the living room and parted the curtain's he drove off. I am angry!

Trayvon Benjamin Martin (February 5, 1995 – February 26, 2012) was a 17-year-old African American from Miami Gardens, Florida who was fatally shot by George Zimmerman, a neighborhood watch volunteer, in Sanford, Florida. On the evening of February 26, Martin went to a convenience store and purchased candy and juice. As Martin returned from the store, he walked through a neighborhood and Zimmerman, a member of the community watch, spotted him and then followed Martin (despite being told not to do so by the police) on foot to ensure that Martin would not try to steal anything from the neighborhood. Moments later, there was an altercation between the two individuals in which Martin was shot in the chest. Zimmerman also blamed Martin's death on the fact that he was wearing a black hoodie.

This is going on all over the country!

Back to The Grammy's, Beyonce's stage setup for her rendition of the gospel standard "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" featured a wall of African-American men while they held their hands up, which is a nod to the "Hands up, don't shoot" campaign that came out of Ferguson. And Pharrell's "Happy" used his performance to shed light on not only Ferguson, but also on Trayvon Martin as well. Backup dancers donned black hoodies like the one that Martin wore when he was shot and killed in 2012, and broke out the "Hands up, don't shoot" gesture amidst the middle of their performance.

Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light: Amen!

I am glad movies like, “Selma,” are still being made, people need reminding! But there were also Common and John Legend, weighed in when they performed "Glory," their contribution to the "Selma soundtrack. "That's why Rosa sat on the bus; that's why we walked through Ferguson with our hands up," Common said. The most explicit of the comments coming from The Grammy's came from Prince, who said, “BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

Several things happened this past week that astounded the literary world. Harper Lee is finally to publish her first novel. Yes, her first. To Kill a Mockingbird was actually her second novel. Her publisher encouraged her to write an earlier story from the protagonist’s view, that of a young Scout who observed her father, Atticus Finch, at work on a rape case. Thus was born the seminal work, To Kill a Mockingbird. Evidently, the book was discovered among Lee’s publisher’s papers and they decided to move forward and publish.

The next thing I witnessed is the only interview ever filmed of Flann O’Brien, or more popularly known by his pseudonym, Brian O’Nolan. We see an extremely soused author, slurring his words, and an empty bottle of whiskey nearby. He was so introverted that he had to get stinking to be able to withstand the pain of an interview. It was only a snippet and some are still out there desperately searching for the entire interview.

As I watched the news from my computer screen, seated alone in my office at home, I understood these two private people more than all the extroverted newscasters and literary reviewers and academics combined. I’m an introvert. I test toward the extreme side, but I have learned to withstand the exposure to the marketplace, however painful it may be. It isn’t that I don’t like people that I too shun public places as much as I possibly can. In fact, I do. Undoubtedly, more than most. There are many people I care so deeply about I hurt. I find myself moved to tears when I think of them or their problems they must endure.

I didn’t mean to get so heavy on a Monday, but these two remarkable introverts, Harper Lee and Flann O’Brien, have surfaced this past week to remind me of who I am, of all those like us, the introverted authors. I like the idea that today we have author communities, that we have a Sisters In Crime and Mystery Writers of America, and the many other author communities that have sprung up over the past few years. We support each other. Encourage each other. And it shouldn’t just be with a communal organization that we pay to belong to where one author supports another. It should be every author supports the other. We may not all be introverts like I am or Flann O’Brien, but we can listen and find a way to be there for the other. Perhaps Mr. O’Brien would not have had to drink himself into oblivion just to give an interview, or Ernest Hemingway find release in suicide if we had paid more attention.

I realize I rag on the worst of us, the vanity press author wannabes, but I do care about those who are the diamonds in the rough, the voices lost in the sea of egomanical and yet terrible writers. They should be heard and need encouragement. Go out and buy a book today. Buy that story told by someone who truly has talent. Write a review that comes from your heart. And, if you can, connect with them, encourage them so they don’t lose heart like the Ernest Hemingways or Flann O’Briens.

http://www.amazon.com/Night-Shadow-Ch%C3%A9ri-Vaus%C3%A9-ebook/dp/B00O3L6Z92/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1423325344&sr=8-1&keywords=the+night+shadow+by+cheri+vause

My readers often ask, “Are you Gus LeGarde?”

I laugh and tell them, “Hardly. Gus is a much better man than me.”

I genuinely mean it when I say it. But is it really true?

When I started writing the LeGarde Mystery series, I wanted to base Gus on my father – a wonderful Renaissance man and a talented pianist/music professor. At the time, he’d just passed away from cancer, and I was overwhelmed with grief. The idea of starting the series as a testimony to him was appealing, and it provided some great therapy.

Dad and I were a great deal alike. We both nurtured huge gardens, cooked, and loved kids and dogs. So, as I began to write, particularly in the first person POV, Gus ended up being a lot like me.

So, am I Gus LeGarde? And is he a better man that me?

Gus and I are very much alike. So much so that my friends always think it’s me in the stories, and I often get asked questions like, “What was the name of the book where you and Camille went to Europe with Siegfried?”

We do look alike. We have the same wavy dark hair with silver sprinkled at the temples. The same hazel eyes. The same shoe size. But he’s twenty pounds thinner and more fit than I am. Hey, I’m allowed to dream, right?

Gus and I grow expansive gardens, cook lush feasts for our families, adore our grandchildren, and dote on our dogs. We’re good husbands, and responsible citizens. We live in big old houses in the country, and are crazy about nature, particularly the Genesee Valley and Finger Lakes regions of upstate NY. We love to ride horses and love to swim. We devour mysteries and read in bed before going to sleep.

However, Gus can run for miles without getting out of breath. He can hold his own in a fistfight, lucky devil. I get winded if I jog for more than a half mile, and I’ve never been in a fistfight in my life. Call me a pacifist. I’ve always used words better than fists, I guess.

Gus can play a flawless Chopin etude without even looking at the music. His artistry is perfect, his skills precise. I struggle through the simplest Chopin waltz.

Gus is drawn to trouble, ferrets out the villains, and fights to uphold honor for the common good. I struggle to get through my day to day existence and only write about courage and upholding justice. I sure believe in it, but I don’t really participate, do I?

Let’s talk about church. Gus is a better parishioner than I ever was, even when I regularly attended our local Methodist church. He’s on all the committees; plays organ for church services when needed at local nursing homes and prisons, and is an outstanding parish leader. I used to do some of that, until the committees took up far too much of my writing time and we lost the best pastor we’d ever had. I became discouraged and let the organized religious part of my life go – especially when my grandchildren moved in and going to church meant losing precious hours with them. Right now, they’re foremost in my life. I know God understands. ;o) And I will go back to church when they’re older and life settles down a little. I miss it.

Wait just a minute, now. Gus has a lot more time than me, doesn’t he? Hmmm. There may be something to this line of reasoning. He lives five minutes away from his job where he teaches music at the local university. I drive 35 minutes each way to work, twice a day. That’s a lot of driving. After he teaches a few classes a day, he is free to hunt scoundrels and investigate evildoers to his heart’s content. I’m stuck at work at least eight hours a day.

Now I’m starting to get jealous. Which is really sick, since he’s my own invention.

Gus also has Siegfried, his gentle giant brother-in-law who chops his wood, mows the lawn, feeds the livestock, and cleans out the horse stalls. Wow. Gus really has it easy. No wonder he has time to chase down the villains!

I’m warming to this angle. Let’s see…

Gus has another advantage – Mrs. Adelaide Pierce! I’ll admit, I always wanted the “real” Mrs. Doubtfire, and I invented Adelaide because I longed for her in my own life. During the weekdays she shops, helps with the grandkids, does mountains of laundry, cooks meals, and cleans the house. Sigh. Those jobs fall to me most of the time, since my wife is disabled. And I do lovingly care for my sweetie pie, bringing her meals, monitoring her meds, and generally loving her a whole lot. We both weave chair seats on the side, to make extra money. Hey! There’s something Gus can’t do!

And I just thought of one more thing. I take photos. Some of them are nice. And Gus doesn’t have a clue about photography. He’s got a good eye for art, but he leaves the photography to his adopted father figure, Oscar Stone. But Oscar’s a better photographer than me. He’s published coffee table books galore. Wait a minute, let’s not get off on that tangent.

The next time a reader asks me if I’m Gus LeGarde, I might hesitate before spouting my usual answer.

We really are one and the same soul – with a few minor perturbations. His thoughts are my thoughts. When he mourns his first wife, I tap into the feelings of fear and grief I experienced when my wife almost died, when the threat of her demise hung over our family. When Gus mourns his father’s passing, it’s my grief he’s feeling. He cherishes his grandkids like I do mine, with the same fierce sense of adoration and protection I feel toward my little pals, Julian, Gordie, Isabella, and Christopher. And when he picks his sun-ripened tomatoes, or his juicy plums, or his aromatic basil, he’s raiding my garden. Each meal he cooks has been my real-life creation, and every book he reads I’ve read.

And there’s one important fact here we must address…I created Gus. He wouldn’t have “life” it it weren’t for me. Ha. So there!

It’s an interesting relationship, this author/character thing. Kind of crazy. And impossible to ignore. Now that I’ve analyzed it to death, though, I think I’ll get cracking and let Gus take me on another mission. ;o)

copyright 2015, Aaron Paul Lazar

***

To read more about Gus LeGarde, please visit http://www.lazarbooks.com.

Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. An award-winning, bestselling Kindle author of three addictive mystery series, thrillers, love stories, and writing guides, Aaron enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his website at http://www.lazarbooks.com and watch for his upcoming releases, THE SEACROFT: a love story and DEVIL’S CREEK.

Writing in English is difficult, because it's an ever-disintegrating language.

Jonathan Swift, writer and dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, complained to the Earl of Oxford in 1712: “Our Language is extremely imperfect. Its daily Improvements are by no means in proportion to its daily Corruptions; and the Pretenders to polish and refine it, have chiefly multiplied Abuses and Absurdities.” He went so far as to say, “In many Instances, it offends against every Part of Grammar.”

It was the lingual wild-west, untamed and out of control! So, in order to tame our wildly evolving language, a group of clerks and clerics in the eighteenth century who wanted a more orderly language developed the rules for the “Queen’s English.”

Unfortunately, they used the rules they were most familiar with, and being men of the church, they borrowed them from Latin.

Doh!

Nevertheless, these rules have been consecrated, hallowed, and immortalized in hundreds of books on style, and repeated by guru after guru who ignores the scabrous history of our English language. These hard-and-fast rules have been passed down by generations of schoolteachers in a vain effort to keep the language pure, when everyone knows English was brought to Britain by the Saxons—those intrepid dark age settlers whose homeland is now the Netherlands, and who long ago went a-viking to the British Isles and stayed. Quite frankly, modern Dutch is incomprehensible to a modern English speaker, unless they were born there.

Oddly enough, so is Latin.

So—a bunch of smart guys in Victorian England applied the rules of a dead language, Latin, to an evolving language with completely different roots, Frisian, added a bunch of mish-mash words and usages invented by William Shakespeare, and called it “Grammar.”

Despite the pox-ridden history of the English language, it helps to have a framework to go by when writing, so yes—I use a book of rules, the Chicago Manual of Style.  This helps me to remain consistent in my writing, and smooths the narrative for the reader.

You can use any style guide you choose, but you must remain consistent.

My biggest complaint when reading indie novels is that some authors don’t realize how critical consistency is, and so many small errors could have been solved without too much trouble, if an editor had seen the manuscript prior to publication.

That is where an external eye is SO handy. I feel that a good relationship with an editor is the most important investment an indie can make in her career. Even if you have an editor, it's a good idea to examine every sentence yourself for consistency, and make a usage-list for yourself, using the first instance of how any made-up word is used in the manuscript. That is what an editor will do for you.

This is so that your own usages don't evolve as the story does, and made up names remain capitalized or hyphenated as you originally intended.

I do recommend you print out each chapter and go down it using an envelope to shield everything that is below the sentence you are looking at, or even do it backwards, starting at the end and going up.

I have editors, because even with these precautions I don’t always get it right.

But I do make the effort.

PROLOGUE 

The crescendo of his heartbeat rose in his ears. It began as a low, deep sound of a bass drum accelerating to the medium tone of the tom-tom. It drowned out all other sounds of that glorious day, like the cheerful song of the spring robin. His ears turned deaf to every audible vibration, including the wind rustling through the branches of the willow tree.

Why couldn’t he hear the wind? He could feel each gust tussling his hair. How a few dark strands caught on his stubbled jaw. He would brush it away if he could move. Right now, he didn’t want to move. Nothing mattered. Not the wind or his hair. Not even the birds or the tree. All that mattered stood before him. God help him. Nothing could deter him from his fascination…with her.

His eyes coursed over her delicate features. Chestnut curls. High cheekbones. Full, voluptuous lips…

Calling her beautiful would be unjust. A sin even. Lust came natural to anyone. But with her, it went deeper. She radiated like an angel. Soft. Sweet. Heavenly. It drew him in. Yet her presence, the way it made him shake inside, kept him wanting more.

The breeze blew her ringlets from the nape of her neck. Each swaying lock carried a hint of sandalwood. The same scent rushing through his nose. One more breath and he’d be intoxicated.

Her skin, a soft shade of peaches-and-cream, glistened every time gilded sunrays broke through the swaying branches of the weeping willow.

When he gazed down into her eyes, his breath caught. He tried swallowing the lump in his throat, but his constricted chest held it in place. Her warm, inviting eyes were a rich shade of gold woven with flecks of olive green. She was looking past him to the broken, shale wall surrounding the estate.

Something about the lush green grass and the smell of roses tugged at him. Wasn’t I about to… God, she’s beautiful.

He ignored his duties. Why shouldn’t he? Nothing could be more important than this moment under the willow tree with her, his golden-eyed angel.

His eyes searched hers for proof that she sensed the same magnetic force drawing them together. A force so powerful it was irrefutable as it called to his soul.

He waited for her to meet his gaze, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. The motion captured her attention. Her mesmerizing eyes focused back on his face. He released his breath, exhaling a slow sigh as he watched a smile spread across her lips.

Those lips…

He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. It made his heart hasten when he imagined them pressed to his, allowing him to taste their sweetness.

She stepped in, closing the distance between them. Her eyes descended from his, lingering on his shoulders. He watched in silent awe as her arm stretched toward him. When gentle fingers touched his arm, a line of fire coursed through every nerve, wrapping him in a cloud of desire. He fought against the groan creeping up from his lungs as her fingertips stroked his skin.

Her eyes wandered further down his body, causing his muscles to flinch.

In the passing breaths, his eyes fell to her tiny waist and well-curved hips.

Every single inch—a masterpiece.

He could no longer withhold his desire to touch perfection. Reaching out to her, he hesitated for a heartbeat, but pushed his fears aside. His hand caressed her neck, sweeping slowly up skin as soft as rose petals. Then he cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes, her breath releasing a gentle sigh.

Her subtle reactions affected his soul. He knew women, but not like this. They’d never found the secret chamber that held his heart. Had never come close to touching it. But this beautiful angel in front of him—she knew. She’d not only found his heart, she’d brought it to life, made it race like a river rushing through a canyon. He wanted her more than a rose wanted sunlight. Needed her more than the air he breathed.

A smile played at the corner of her lips. She leaned her cheek against the warmth of his hand, her breath tickling his palm. “Can you feel it?”

Her voice was like a whisper from heaven. He reveled in it. Wanted to bottle it up and keep the sweet sound with him wherever he went.

“Yes,” he breathed out.

She opened her eyes and ran her hands up his arms as he enveloped her in an embrace. Her fingers continued until they met at the back of his neck, interlacing at the nape. The look in her eyes tugged his heartstrings. His hands met at the small of her back, where they stopped and gathered her dress.

Say it. Tell me what your heart wants. I need to hear you say it.

Her lips parted, the words playing there as she stared into his eyes. He braced himself, waiting for those words he wanted to hear. His heart no longer raced. It pounded so fiercely, he thought it would beat out of his chest.

But she didn’t speak.

Let me know those lips.

She leaned closer.

Yes.

His beautiful angel stood on her toes, her lips brushing his in a soft, sweeping motion.

God, yes!

To his dismay, the ecstasy that enveloped them ended. Their sweet moment stolen like a priceless jewel. The heat of her body, of their passion, tore from his soul as she pulled away.

His disappointment consumed him.

Not again.

The tears forming in her eyes glistened as a sunray filtered through the dangling branches. Her bottom lip quivered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice cracking between words as he brushed a tear from her cheek. He feared that he already knew the answer, yet was still desperate for her to prove him wrong.

“You have to wake up, my sweet,” she said, her voice urgent, desperate.

“I’m not asleep. How can I wake up if I’m not sleeping?” He reached for her, wanting to pull her against him, to bask in the warmth of her touch.

She took a step back, tears sliding down her face, lips turning down in a frown. “You must.”

“No,” he begged. “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” Moisture stung his eyes as he pleaded with her to remain.

His voice betrayed him when nothing more than a whisper passed over his lips. “Stay.”

He reached out to her. This time, when he touched her skin, or what should have been her skin, the warmth was gone. There was nothing.

No!

His heart squeezed. He tried again, reaching for her, but his fingers caressed nothing but air. His eyes widened.

God, no…

Her image weakened. She reached her hand toward his face, as though to stroke it. He couldn’t feel the warmth, just a gentle breeze blowing through his hair.

Though her silhouette faded, her voice carried once more to his ears. “Wake up. Please, wake up…”

His heart grew strained with disappointment as the scenery slowly blurred and vanished. He kicked his legs, trying to ground himself as he tumbled into an abyss of darkness. He searched for something to catch him, to stop his descent into black. Nothing was there.

Suddenly, his body jerked into a sitting position as he gasped. His eyes burned. Bright light reflected off the walls surrounding him.

My angel.

He gazed around the room with desperate eyes.

Where is she?

His heart pounded fiercely as he searched the room.

She has to be here.

He wanted to scream her name, wanted to beg her to return, but couldn’t. He didn’t know her name.

The room spun, or at least he thought it did. Maybe it was his mind. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grabbed his head, holding it with both hands as he tried focusing again. A deep inhale brought the sweet scent of sandalwood to his nose.

Where the hell…

He opened his eyes, again, taking in beige-colored walls, an oak chest of drawers, clothes strewn across the floor. When his eyes settled on a pair of black, snakeskin boots, his heart panged.

Of course. I’m here. But that means—

He was home, in his bedroom, alone.

Falling back into the bed, realization burned his stomach. Another dream…it was just another dream.

There was no golden-eyed angel.

The only thing that remained from the dream was the wicked headache. As much as he wanted to cover his head and never leave the bed, the aspirin in the bathroom called to him.

As he stood, his foot crunched a can that lay on the carpet. His eyes passed over a shimmering blue and white beer can. An empty liquor bottle lay on its side, just two feet away.

No wonder my head is pounding. A hangover. I have a damn hangover.

He laughed, thinking about why he began drinking in the first place. To forget her.

What a joke. Not all the liquor in the world could erase her image from his mind.

Staring aimlessly, his heart grew weary, knowing he would never truly feel skin as soft as satin, never look into eyes as rich as marmalade. His soul grew restless.

She would never be his salvation. Only his tormentor.

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I’ve gotten asked by a lot of other authors about any sort of hints or tips of tricks that I could tell them to help them along.  If you’ve read my earlier posts, you know that I think that writing is a very personal experience, and therefore the process changes dramatically from person to person.  But, at this point, I have gotten asked enough that I finally decided to culminate all of the tips that I have found most helpful.

The following is a list of the top 10 things I believe a fiction writer should do. Most of these probably apply to all you nonfiction writers out there as well, but I’ll leave the official version of that list for one of you to develop. So, without further ado, here are the most crucial things every writer should do from my perspective:

Know the basics

Every writer must know the basics of grammar, spelling and punctuation. This is not to impress readers with how well we learned in school. If readers are paying more attention to mistakes than to plot, they will not be your readers for long.

Be original

Imitating another author’s style or rehashing an overused plot line is an easy way to lose readers. We have been blessed with only one Socrates, one Mary Shelley, one Stephen King. Many have tried to imitate them. Can you name one? While imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, it is also a certain path to obscurity.

Want to write

Writers write. It’s what they have to do. Writing requires long hours, tedious edits and rewrites and rarely pays enough to give up the day job. Many have tried writing because it seems a quick and easy path to success. After a few attempts, most find the day job is not so bad by comparison.

Accept obscurity

Writing is a lonely job. Writers spend many long hours hidden away, pecking a keyboard. For a short time, most writers will experience some notice, even admiration, from their social circle. However, as time passes and none of their work shows up on the New York Times bestseller list, friends and family smile knowingly when you claim the title of writer.

Find your audience

Not everyone will like what you write. It’s a fact. Few people south of the Mason-Dixon Line liked the Gettysburg Address. It is extremely difficult to persuade someone to like your work who does not like the genre you write. There are countless groups with interests in everything imaginable. A quick Google search is a good start. From there, try to develop connections that will grow your social circle.

Find a support structure

Writing requires far more self-motivation than the average day job. Writers have only themselves and whatever cheering squad they can put together. Most other professionals are surrounded by coworkers who know and understand the perks and stresses of their jobs. Writers have to seek others who share their compulsion and cultivate a support structure where they can find it.

Get feedback

Few writers can see all the inaccuracies or implications of their work with no feedback. As writers, we see our stories from within. Part of us or someone we have known goes into each character. Places we have seen or imagined have gone into each scene description. However, do they work for our target audience? We will never know unless we make ourselves accessible.

Accept criticism

Not all criticism is negative or valid, but all has the potential for being beneficial. Writers are mostly human. As such, we tend to learn from our mistakes. However, this only happens if we know what our mistakes are. None of us sits down to intentionally throw in a dangling plotline or a contradiction in place or time. Once in, the writer often fails to notice them, but few readers are as oblivious of our mistakes.

Have a thick skin

Because they have to remain accessible, writers are easy targets. They are criticized by those who do not agree with the believability of their characters, the probability of their plots or the choice of genre for their tale. They are subjected to abuse for not eagerly accepting every first draft offered for their opinion. They are vilified as greedy for not accepting a fifty-fifty split for every idea as long as they do all the writing, editing and promotion.

And of course, HAVE FUN!

As long as writing is inner driven, it is only attitude that keeps even its most onerous aspects from being fun. We all know the mental high of the first rush of creativity. Most of us dread the hours of rewrites and editing. Yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we do not do it for the readers. We write because it’s what we like to do. All jobs have aspects that are less fun than others, but that does not mean that all aspects are not fun.

Fume Fume - Altered Consciousness. - Change in life cycle. - Chapter Ten

We all will, sooner or later, find ourselves having to make the hardest decisions of our lives. Dani found it hard to make the decisions she had to make, in Chapter Ten, “To Dance with Ugly People,” but her altered consciousness pushed her into the direction of making a change in her life. Dani wanted to forget the past and make a clean start.

My Friend and Fellow Author with Lock Publishing, Jenny Dunbar posted a Recipe and it gave me an idea. I want to offer you the chance to push in the direction of making a change to your menu for, January 1 2016. Join in the tradition of eating lucky foods on the first day of the New Year 2016.

But instead of leaving everything up to fate, why not enjoy a meal to increase your good fortune? There are a variety of foods that are believed to be lucky and to improve the odds that next year will be a great one. Traditions vary from culture to culture, but there are striking similarities in what's on the table. I grew up eating:

Collard Greens
Their green leaves look like folded money, and are thus symbolic of economic fortune.

Pork
The custom of eating pork on New Year's is based on the idea that pigs symbolize progress.

Black-Eyed Peas
Peas are also symbolic of money. Their small, seed like appearance resembles coins that swell when cooked so they are consumed with financial rewards in mind.

Round Pan of Corn Bread
Round is the shape you want for the new year.

Recipes:

Southern-Style Collard Greens

12 hickory-smoked bacon slices, finely chopped
2 medium-size sweet onions, finely chopped
3/4 pound smoked ham, chopped
6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
3 (32-oz.) containers chicken broth
3 (1-lb.) packages fresh collard greens, washed and trimmed
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon pepper

Preparation
1. Cook bacon in a 10-qt. stockpot over medium heat 10 to 12 minutes or until almost crisp. Add onion, and sauté 8 minutes; add ham and garlic, and sauté 1 minute. Stir in broth and remaining ingredients. Cook 2 hours or to desired degree of tenderness.

Fresh Black-Eyed Peas With Bacon

1 1/2 pounds fresh black-eyed peas, rinsed, drained
8 to 12 ounces bacon, diced
Leftover diced ham and/or a ham bone or ham hocks, if ya got it
2 bay leaves
Additional water or chicken broth or stock, if needed
1 1/2 cups chopped onion
1 cup chopped red and green bell pepper
1 clove garlic, minced
1 1/2 cups water
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

Preparation
In a tall stockpot cook the bacon until done but not crisp; add the onion, bell pepper, to the rendered bacon fat and cook just until tender. Add the garlic and cook another minute or so. If you have some leftover ham, add it here also and cook it until browned. Toss the peas in the pot and sort of stir fry them with the veggies for a bit. Then slowly begin adding the hot water, stirring in as you do, and bring it up to a full boil.

If you're lucky enough to have a ham bone, stick it in there after you add the water but before you add the peas, reduce heat to medium and allow the ham bone to cook by itself for about an hour to deepen the stock. Once that cooks (or if you don't happen to have a ham bone) go ahead and just add the dried peas, salt, pepper, and bay leaves. Then bring it all to a boil.

Reduce to a medium simmer and partially cover, cooking for about 1 to 1-1/2 hours or until peas are tender and creamy. Add additional chicken stock or water only if necessary to slightly thin out.

Moist Southern Cornbread

1 1/2 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups cornmeal, sifted before measuring
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk
2 cups whole milk, divided

Preparation
Preheat oven to 350°.
Put the butter in a 9-inch round cast iron skillet and heat in the oven or on the stovetop until the pan is hot and the butter is melted but not browned.
Meanwhile, sift the flour, cornmeal, baking soda, baking powder, and salt into a mixing bowl. Whisk together the eggs, buttermilk, and and 1 cup of the whole milk. Stir into the dry ingredients until well blended.
Pour the batter into the hot pan. Carefully pour the remaining 1 cup whole milk evenly over the top of the batter; do not stir. Place the skillet in the oven and bake for about 45 to 50 minutes, or until cornbread is set and baked through.

Instead of leaving everything up to fate, Dani made a move, was it the right one? Get your copy and find out today! Enjoy my recipes anytime of the year.