Category: writing

Books, fantasy, stories, writing

New Book!

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Just in time for the holidays!

My cover designer finished the cover for my short story collection (can I call it a collection if it’s just two stories? And if not, what SHOULD I be calling it? Seriously, this has been driving me nuts. A duology? But they aren’t connected to each other, just similarly-themed) a couple months sooner than I was expecting. The stories themselves have been ready to go for ages, so all I had to do was fix up a little bit of formatting, and voila! Just in time to add to your Christmas wish list:

If This Be Magic & The Traitor and the Spy, available now at Smashwords and Amazon, and soon to be available in print.
Here’s the blurb for If This Be Magic:
As if being the worst student at Miss Cranston’s Select Seminary for the Study of Sorcery weren’t bad enough, now sixteen-year-old Sophie Abbott suspects her uncle, the most respected magician in Boston, of secretly working for the Kaiser. The year is 1915, and though America isn’t in the war yet, Sophie can’t sit by and do nothing. Before long, she and Uncle Edward’s apprentice Owen are deep in danger and treachery, and Sophie’s unique ability to see magic as a spiderweb of spells might be the only thing that can save them. Time is running short and Owen’s life is in her hands. Every spell she has ever attempted has failed spectacularly – can Sophie trust her magic now?

And for The Traitor and the Spy:

Philomena Stirling-Vane is fourteen years old in Victorian England, and in the unhappy position of having accidentally inherited the family magic. Her father is outraged, and her mother nearly prostrate with grief over the unhappy prospect of a lady magician in the family. When Jonathan Kempson, Mr Stirling-Vane’s former apprentice, requires another magician’s assistance to track down a traitor to the Council of Magicians, Phil sees her chance. Disguised as her brother, she accompanies Mr Kempson to London, where they must overcome their mutual dislike and learn to work together to unweave the tapestry of deception laid around them.

I was immensely proud of Justice’s Mask, and still am, but these two are even closer to my heart. They are fantasy, for one, which is my first and best love. They also both have a great deal more humor than Justice’s Mask, and while the more serious tone fits JM, I really do prefer to keep a more light-hearted tone when I can.

They are also set in the same world, though different eras, as my forthcoming novel Magic & Mayhem (I am aiming for a summer publication – we’ll see). This is my first attempt at playing with different stories and different characters in the same fantasy world, and it’s been so much fun.

Also, the cover. Isn’t that just gorgeous? I am so in love with it. It was created by Kathryn Jonell, and I highly recommend her work for anyone looking for a cover designer.

I have two more short stories and a novella from my summertime non-novel writing. I’m not sure when or how I’ll publish those, but for right now, I am so, so pleased with the three I’ve already published.

I hope you all enjoy them as much as I do!
philosophy, research, stories, writing

The Joy of the Library

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Thank you all for your encouragement on my last post! I did get out my journal (and my fancy pens that I bought for art and then never used because I haven’t started the art book yet) the other day, but I haven’t written in it yet. Mainly because I started a new writing project (I am calling it Jane Austen meets Alias meets Diana Wynne Jones, which gives you a glimpse into how my brain works) and am having too much fun with that to try anything else.

Carl and the kids dropped me off at the library Friday late afternoon, and after wandering around for twenty minutes in a blissful daze about being able to pick out books without distraction, I meandered to the back, sat at a table, pulled out my laptop, and wrote.

Aside from the one tutor who breezed through the DESIGNATED QUIET AREA (seriously, there are signs!) talking at the top of his voice to his clearly not-hearing-impaired student, it was bliss. Forty minutes of quiet writing time, no one needing me, no guilt over the household chores staring at me, no need to hop right up and get supper started, nothing.

So I wrote, and I plotted, and I looked up the differences in address as regards a contessa vs a countess, and I wrote some more, and finally I got up with a happy sigh, checked my books out, went into the foyer, called Carl, and talked him through the last few steps of supper prep (basically: “Stir, turn the oven off, leave the dish covered.”). Then he and the littles came back for me, we went home, and ate the dinner that I’d started before I left and Carl finished. It was delicious, by the way. Lentils and rice!

We are definitely attempting to make this a weekly thing. Coffee shops are fun, but a quiet (or MOSTLY QUIET yes I’m talking to you obnoxious tutor who was supposed to be in the teen room anyway) library with all sorts of wonderful resources (not just the internet!) at my fingertips is far better for me. And it gets me out of the house, and even one hour of not having to be “mommy” is wonderful.

I love libraries, always have, ever since I was very young and enthralled by the one row of picture books at our local library (it was teensy-tiny, for a teensy-tiny town, but far better stocked than you might think). Library nights were the highlight of the week for our family for years: Dad would get home from work, we’d all pile in the car and drive to the library (the one night it was open late), browse for a while, check out an enormous stack of books apiece, stop at the gas station on the way home for soda (or Clearly Canadian – Mountain Blackberry was the BEST) and chocolate bars, then go home, Dad would make popcorn, and we’d all sit in the living room with our books and snacks, and read until bedtime.

The first thing I do in every new town we move to is find the local library. Sometimes the local library sucks and we have to go further afield to find the best one for us. We’ve been lucky these last two moves – we’ve ended up only five minutes away from a wonderful library each time.

The big excitement for Joy when she turned five was that she could finally get her own library card. Both the girls love going to the library, admittedly for the toys as well as the books, but also for the thrill of SO MANY books in one place, and all for the reading of anyone who wants. It really is a wonderful thing, when you think about it.

So it makes sense, for me, that the library would bring a sense of peace to my soul when I go there to write, that it would feel just right, comfortable and natural in a way that no other place can quite match. I’m already eagerly anticipating my next writing visit there.

Maybe this week I’ll get around to attempting some poetry.

Where is your favorite out-of-the-house place to write?

Joy signing her name for the library card

Enthralled in a book that she checked out all by her very own self!


philosophy, writing

Poetry of Life

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I am not a poet. I shouldn’t really have to say that on here, should I? If you’ve read even a few of my posts, you’d know that I have a very conversational style in my writing; I write as I talk, and I am not a poet in my conversations, either.

Most of the time that doesn’t bother me. I’m not much on reading poetry, either. I memorized the first few stanzas of Sir Walter Scott’s “The Lady of the Lake” when I was a kid, and I gained some appreciation for Emily Dickinson in my freshman creative writing class in college, and I struggle to appreciate John Donne because of my abiding love for Lord Peter Wimsey, but really? Poetry is a closed book to me. I can scratch together a few lines for a Christmas present for a family member, or put together a little poem to hang next to a baby picture on my littles’ bedroom wall, but using poetry to express my innermost feelings? Not gonna happen.

And then I read people who write prose so beautifully that it reads like poetry, those blog posts that dig into my heart, those words accompanying a recipe in a cookbook that make me want to bury my hands in flour and build a legacy, those lines in a book that shine a light on feelings that have been obscure even to me. And I wish (oh how I wish) that I could write the same way. That even if I can’t write poetry, that my prose could be deep and rich and beautiful and speak out of the chambers of my heart, right into others’ hearts.

But I sit with my fingers poised over the keyboard, or twirling a pen above a blank page, and what comes out is my usual light chatter instead. Even when I am writing for myself, that doesn’t change, so it isn’t that I’m afraid to expose my inner self to others. Or is it that, is it that I have hidden myself away from others for so long that it’s become an ingrained habit, something I can’t break even for myself?

This post here is more stream-of-consciousness than I usually write. It’s about as close to poetry as I get. I do have a poetry blog that I started several years ago in an attempt to develop a more poetic side, but it’s been gathering dust for many months. Maybe I should start working on that again?

I don’t want to stay in the shallows, with my writing or with my life. I’m not afraid to dive into the unknown deeps when it comes to my life. I shouldn’t be afraid of stretching out with my writing, either. Light entertainment is fine, and even good, at times, but I don’t want that to be all I ever write. I want to make people think, and feel, with my writing. I want to use my writing to convey at least a part of the beauty and wonder I find in this world, this life.

Maybe I just need to take a deep breath, and dive right in. No fear.

I wrote this over a period of a couple days, but I have not edited anything (well, aside from a few spelling errors). An attempt to stay raw and not polish the truth away from my words.

figure skating, writing

Happy INDIE-giving!

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Funny, when I signed up to join this Blogfest, I didn’t think that I would have already joined the ranks of independent published authors! I expected to still be a “wanna-be.” Just goes to show you can still surprise yourself sometimes.

I surprised myself yesterday, too, when I had my first ice dance lesson in twelve years. Oh, I was sore when I got off the ice, but overall? I felt AWESOME. I expected it to be so much more difficult than it turned out to be. I remembered so much more than I thought I would, and following the pattern, keeping my center, all that – challenging, but nowhere near as impossible as I was expecting. The moral of the story (to imitate the White Queen)? Never hold back from doing something just because you think it’s going to be hard! If you really want it, go for it, and don’t give up, and you might just be amazed at how much you are able to accomplish!

I am so thankful for this opportunity to get back to something I have loved so well for my entire life. Thankful, too, for the opportunity to publish my stories – writing is something else I have loved my entire life. I have dreamed for almost that long about being published, and to be able to achieve the first step of that dream – publishing a short story – is amazing. It is nothing I take for granted.

And neither are any of you! I am truly grateful for all the friends I have made in this little corner of the web. Writing would not be anywhere near so much fun without the community and support we all give each other.

And to show that thankfulness in a little more tangible manner, I’m offering TWO giveaways. One, my short story, naturally!

Justice’s Mask: Cassandra James finds the line between right and wrong blurs when a Loyalist spy is unmasked at her eighteenth birthday party.

This story was a major departure from my usual writing genre, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I would love to share it with one of you, too! Edited to add: Alex asked if this was an e-book. Yes, it is! Thanks to Smashwords, it is available in Kindle, Epub (which works for iBooks, Kobo, Nook, Sony, and more), PDF, or even just as online viewing. Thanks for bringing that point to my attention, Alex!

My other offering is a $10. Etsy gift card. I love Etsy, the global marketplace for independent artisans. This is my second year of ordering personalized ornaments for the littles through Etsy, and I think it’s going to become a family tradition! Etsy is now offering gift cards for many shops, which I think makes for a fantastic gift or giveaway.

No hoops to jump through or forms to fill out for these two giveaways – just leave a comment letting me know which one you’re interested in, and next Monday I’ll draw one name out of a hat for each!

Thank you all for being you. You’re all fantastic people, every one of you! And for more wonderful giveaways, check out the Indelibles blog!

goals, publishing, stories, writing

Published!

elouisebates

Wednesday afternoon. Feeling frustrated with everything. Election over, but people still being completely illogical, ungracious, and unkind. Stories needing editing, but nothing moving forward with already-edited stories to encourage me to keep up with the rest. Children, as always and forever, needing me constantly, no matter how much I’ve already done.

Nothing earth-shattering, nothing that ought to bother me, just lots of little gnat bites adding up to ferocious annoyance.

Something snapped. I put a movie on for the kids, went into Carl’s study with the door open so I could still hear them if (when) they needed me. Brought up a basic photo-editing program, and turned one of my photographs into a book cover. Went onto Smashwords and read their book on basic formatting. Went to Amazon and read their directions. Implemented their suggestions.

In the middle of all this, talked to my husband, who was also having a frustrating day. We commiserated with each other, I went back to my formatting. Movie ended, kids ended up in the study with me, playing while I worked, me trying to answer their questions and respond to their comments while still getting accomplished what I needed.

Called Carl on his way home from work. Told him he was no longer allowed to be in a bad mood. “Why?” he asked.

“Because,” I said. “I am officially a published author. And that’s huge.”

And it is.

It may be “just” a short story; it may be “just” self-published, it may be offered “only” in ebook form right now, it may not have a “professional” cover …

but it’s mine. And it’s published. And I am over the moon. I’ve dreamed of this moment almost my entire life, and I finally made that dream a reality.

Justice’s Mask, by Louise Ayers. Available at Amazon and at Smashwords.

Apparently I should snap more often!
Huge thanks to Laura, my fantastic editor, as well as Rockinlibrarian and Amo Vitam, who gave me wonderful and enormously helpful critiques. Thank are also due to all of you, who have encouraged me and walked along this road with me. This is just the beginning!

children, heroines, humor, stories, writing

Holly Grayson, Alleluia …

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One of Joy’s favorite songs is “All Creatures of our God and King.” She will go around the house humming it for hours, breaking into words only at the “alleluia, alleluia” part.

Grace, being three, likes to imitate her sister in all things, so when Joy starts caroling “Alleluia, alleluia,” Grace immediately joins in.

Only her alleluias don’t always sound the way they’re supposed to. From Grace, it sounds more like she’s singing, “Holly Grayson, Holly Grayson …” (Or, technically, “howwy gwayson,” because she’s still working on her “l”s and “r”s.)

After I checked all their books and TV shows to see if she was singing about some character (she wasn’t), I decided it was just a trick of her hearing alleluia slightly differently, pronouncing it more differently yet, and my ear trying to arrange her nonsense syllables into something that makes sense.

Then I started thinking about what a good name Holly Grayson was for a book character, decided I’d use it sometime.

A couple days later, I decided Holly had long, dark brown hair, and either blue or hazel eyes.

Few days after that, I knew she was strong-willed and sharp-witted, often speaking without thinking, but with a warm heart underneath.

An investigator, I realized shortly thereafter. Not an ordinary investigator, either, but either a paranormal or supernatural one.

Nope, I decided a short time later. Time-traveling investigator, working for the InterGalactic Time Police (what, you didn’t know about them? Oh, they exist, my friends.), except they only let her stay on because of her ability to always get results. They don’t like the way she flouts their rules and doesn’t always respect authority. You can’t fire your top investigator for being a smart-mouth, though, so she stays on, even though they’re always looking for reasons to get rid of her.

Then I decided that her time-traveling machine broke down on her last trip, trapping her in the Victorian Era until she is able to fix it, and that she uses her skills and abilities to help those who can’t help themselves – in fact, that becomes her agency’s motto. Holly Grayson Investigations: We help those who can’t help themselves.

Saturday afternoon, I caved and started writing the story that landed her in the Victorian Era. It’s going to be novelette or novella length, I’m not sure yet. I’m having so much fun with it.

Hey Grace, got any more songs you want to mangle? Just imagine the stories you could inspire!

This is somewhat how I imagine Holly. No talking lions, though. At least not yet.

writing

Scrambled Egg Writing

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There are about as many ways to prepare scrambled eggs as there are cooks. Last week with my mother visiting, we had scrambled eggs every morning for breakfast. Some mornings I made them, some mornings Mom did, and one morning Carl did.

Carl barely mixes the eggs at all, cooks them in butter, adds no salt or pepper. Mom mixes them thoroughly, adds milk, salt, and pepper, and cooks them in bacon grease. I mix slightly, add salt, pepper, and marjoram, and cook them in either butter or grease.
They’re all eggs, they all taste different, they all reflect the cook, and they’re all delicious.
You see where I’m going with this, right?

There are so many different styles of writing. Even within the same genre, everyone writes a little differently, puts a little unique twist on the way to tell the story. You can try to imitate someone else exactly, and maybe the story will read okay, but it won’t be you.

There are a lot of “rules” for cooking. One thing I learned from the truly marvelous cooks in my life is that rules are meant to be learned and then ignored at your discretion. Hold too tightly to them, and you’ll never be more than a mediocre cook. To really make food that tastes grand, do it the way that suits you best. Scramble those darn eggs the way you like them, even if nobody else does it like that, and even if it’s against the rules. Some people may not like them, but that’s okay, too.

Learn the “rules” of writing. Then break ’em where you need to in order to write the story your way. Some people may read it and complain about you not doing things the “right” way, but that’s okay. There isn’t one right way. Just ask Shakespeare. He certainly wasn’t following rules.

Sometimes the eggs will stick and burn, or your hand will slip and you’ll dump too much salt in, and sometimes maybe you’ll try cooking them a different way and find that it’s better, or at least fun for a change.

Sometimes the story will flop spectacularly, or you just won’t be able to make all the various elements come together in a cohesive whole, and sometimes you’ll try a different style and have a lot of fun with it, maybe even figure out a way to incorporate the new with the old.

If you fail, you scrape the frying pan into the trash, you hit “delete” on the document, you push up your sleeves and you start again, learning from your mistakes and sometimes, the best of times, even laughing at them.

And you get better. Always. Just so long as you keep trying.

Some days the bread loaves turn out perfectly …

And sometimes they meld into each other to become one big lump. Yep. It happens. Still bread. Still tasty.

goals, philosophy, writing

Everyday Writing

elouisebates

Yesterday morning after church, Carl stayed inside chatting with friends while I kept an eye on the kids in the little playground in the courtyard. After a few moments of watching and thinking, I reached into my purse, pulled out my pen and the sheaf of papers I’d shoved in earlier … and started scratching out the basic outline for my next novelette.

And then I had to laugh at myself. Yes, I’m a writer all right. Even with having to take a break when Grace and another girl had an disagreement on the slide (the other girl lost, but Grace was the one who came away in tears), even when I texted Carl to say Where are you, the girls are getting restless and I’m melting in the sun, even though there were people all around that I could have been talking to … I was thinking about characters and setting and plot, and getting down as much of it as I could.

My kids already know what editing is, as well as outlining, plotting, and all the rest. They hear me talk about it, they even ask me about it now. Joy draws pictures and makes up stories about them as she draws. Grace plays with her toys by acting out stories with them. When we stopped at the drugstore to get a birthday card for their friend today, I walked out with a card, fresh pencils and colored pencils for the girls, and new post-it notes for me, since I can never find Carl’s when I need to use them for story notes.

Somewhere along the line this summer, I’ve started treating my writing more seriously. It’s always been my passion; now it’s my business as well. It’s becoming an essential part of our family life, just as Carl’s studies did back when seminary became more than just a “someday dream” and moved into a serious “in the next few years plan.” It’s not taking over anything, it’s just entwining into our everyday lives and activities.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

critiquing, editing

Moving Right Along

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Three of three!

I’m cruising through these edits. Short stories go so much faster than novels! Even the Olympics haven’t been enough to slow me down – though granted, much of what they’re showing right now doesn’t interest me greatly. If it weren’t the Olympics, I would never voluntarily watch any sort of volleyball, beach or court. Water polo isn’t high on my list of favorite sports to watch, either.

I do, however, find myself on the edge of my seat for every. single. rowing. event. Seriously, I start out watching casually, and the next thing I know, I’m holding my breath, clutching my hands together, making little inarticulate squeaks every time positions change at all. Not much editing happening during those (also, it’s ridiculous how happy I am to hear Terry Gannon commentate on all the rowing events. I grew up listening to Terry Gannon, Dick Button, and Peggy Fleming commentate on all ABC’s figure skating events, and every time I hear any one of them now it just brings back my happy teen years).

Carl and I enjoy watching the gymnastics together, and oohing and gasping over it all. We are in full agreement that having either one of our littles take up competitive gymnastics would put us in early graves. Any other sport, I think, would be fine, but gymnastics makes me sweat.

Anyway. Back to the editing. The nice thing, I’m finding, about editing so many short stories in a row is that it is much easier to see my repeated problem motifs and correct them than it is in a novel. I’m not exactly sure why that is, but that’s how it works for me. I am starting to see and correct some of those problems myself now, even before the CPs have pointed it out, and that’s definitely a good thing.

Two more stories to be critiqued and edited, and then I send the whole shebang off to my copyeditor. I hate to sound like a broken record in all my posts here – but I’m excited.

I’m taking today off – spending the day with some college friends, including one who now lives down south and only makes it back to the area once a year. Eleven kids under the age of six and five adults – yikes!

I’m pretty sure it won’t just be the kids running around like chickens with their heads chopped off.

Tomorrow will be getting those last two stories in good enough shape for CPs to look at them. Things are most definitely progressing!

critiquing, editing

Edits and Quilts

elouisebates

My week off is done! I started editing yesterday, in between watching the Olympics and grumbling over NBC’s terrible coverage. I keep telling myself to be thankful we can watch any of the events at all, but somehow I keep finding myself on Twitter, complaining again. Then I virtuously tell myself that if enough of us complain publicly, NBC will have to take note and make changes before Sochi, and therefore I am doing America in general a service.

As Jane Austen says, “how quick come the reasons for approving what we like.”

I’m actually quite pleased with the way the edits are coming along. One story in particular needs a lot of work, but the other two are fairly smooth sailing. Which is good, because as soon as these three are ready to send to my copy-editor, I’ll have two more ready for critiquing and then editing.

I’m still trying to figure out the cover design. Do I hire someone to do that for me, or do I handle it myself? I’m not too shabby of a photographer, and I actually have a very clear idea of what I want for the cover, but the problem is in finding a model, and then handling all the editing aspect of it. I don’t have Photoshop, and iPhoto (and even PicMonkey) is very limited! Any advice, already-published writers out there?

Even with the shoddy coverage from NBC, the Olympics are definitely inspiring me. If these athletes can do everything that they can, do that huge push to fulfill a lifelong dream … then I can figure out all these nit-picky details to take that first step on the road of my lifelong dream.

And, as is usual with me, my brain is already teeming with ideas for new projects. Three connected novellas! Two similar-themed but not-really-connected novelettes! A collection of fantasy stories and artwork from other unpublished/new writers/artists organized by me! And, oh yeah, my novels. Can’t forget those.

I don’t really mind having so many creative plots at my fingertips. Even if I only accomplish half of them, that’s still pretty major.

In the meantime, I am holding myself sternly on the task at hand before I let myself get carried away with new projects.

(Grace’s sunshine quilt is coming along nicely, by the way. I sit down to watch the Olympics and just start tying, and before I know it, I’ve got several blocks done. I might actually have it finished by the end of the Olympics at this rate! Here’s a picture of it in its pinned state – the lighting doesn’t do it justice at all, but you still can get an idea of how cute it is.)

You can see why we call it the sunshine quilt!