My writer's voice seems to have laryngitis...now what?

Good evening!

Taking a break from the final home stretch editing for "A Hero's Spark"  I started reading Adriana Trigiani's newest book, "The Supreme Macaroni Company."   I'm halfway through and I've been reading it in my spare time over the last couple days.  I can't put it down.

What happens in the book, you ask?

Not much, really. I  mean, I'm halfway through the book, and really all that's happened is an Italian American shoe maker in her thirties is marrying an Italian tanner in his fifties...and her mother planned the wedding between Christmas and Valentine's Day.

Wow, you might say, so, no explosions, no sex, no car chases?

Nope.  And I can't put it down.

See, here's the thing about Adriana Trigiani's writing:  She tells small stories in a huge way.  Valentine, her heroine in this series of stories, in a girl in her thirties who is single  (until halfway through this book) but who lives with a very loud, very tight knit, very big family.  And it's the stories in and about the family that are wonderful.  I don't sew and I hate arts and crafts and yet I'm lost in wonder as she describes cutting patterns for new shoes.

She has an amazing writer's voice.

That's something we writers all hear about once the world realizes we might just be serious about this writing thing. "You have to find your voice."  I had a lot of critique partners, agents, editors all tell me the same thing over and over when I was marketing "Lies in Chance".  

It took me a while to find that voice, but when I did,  my first novel, "Dream in Color," was born.  If you ask my mother, the first 104 pages of "Dream" are the best writing I've ever done.

Finding your voice might be one of hardest things a writer has to develop but once you've got it, you've got it for better or worse.  Sustaining it through the length of a novel is then the challenge.  Sometimes we run into stretches where we produce zero words.  Some call it writer's block, I call it not being able to hear my voice. 

Those of you who know my work, know I write under two names.  (Ironically, the work that's closest to who I am in person is the work I don't publish under my own name. )  My plan, come this summer after "A Hero's Spark" is done, is to find yet another voice and start a new book series under yet another name.

Keeping that voice loud and clear is a big part of writing a coherent novel. Blogging has opened a door to millions who have a voice, have something to say, and can say it clearly, concisely, in short spurts.  I tend to blog when I'm stumped in my novels. Somehow, talking, just talking, which is all blogging really is, turns up the volume on my writer's voice.

Like everything with writing finding your voice and listening to your voice is an intangible.  Can you write a book without a clear voice?  Sure.  Will it be a great book many people love?  Doubtful.  If you can't hear your own voice, no one else will be, either.

So today, as you're banging away at the computer, listen.  Listen to the voice in your head.  You may have to listen closely, because your voice might have laryngitis.  But listen...you'll hear it...and you'll be a way better writer for it.

An open Christmas letter from me to you.

Good morning!

Merry Christmas everyone!

I realize it's not chic in this country to wish people a Merry Christmas.  I mean, there's been this cultural battle about how we should greet each other this time of year.  What I've seen is that after all the yelling and screaming at each other about "Merry Christmas"  or "Happy Holidays" we've wound up just grunting at each other, acknowledging each other with the bare minimum of effort.  Sort of like every other time of the year.

I have been pretty busy lately, and haven't blogged much, but I thought I'd write to you, my friends, in the form of a typical American Christmas letter:  Except this isn't going to be painful to read.

 So here we go:

My Dear Friends:

This has been a tough year for many people, and that's pretty true for me as well.  My little family spent far too much time this year waiting in emergency rooms, talking to doctors, buying prescriptions for multiple medical issues we never saw coming.  It was sort of a mash in the head, starting on Easter night.  When I look back on 2013, I'll think of it as the "year of the medical bills."

Had the year ended on March 31, I would deem this year a failure, a dark, black hole.  But the year didn't end, thankfully, and there were moments of great hope and beauty along the way.

On a professional front, I got my rights back for Dream in Color and I created not one but two new covers for the book.  I also released my two Elsie W. Books 

"Elsie W.:  Unsafe at Any Speed.""Elsie W.:  Not While I'm Chewing"

And I'm currently working on a third book for my "Wicked Women" series, a book I hope to have released by Valentine's Day.

 

 

I think my favorite day this year was a very hot day in July when the four of us went to our church to have our picture taken for the new church directory.  The four of us did not want to be in the stifling hot classroom at nine at night. None of us likes getting our picture taken and let's face facts:  I haven't improved my photogenic features in the ten years since the last church directory.

But there the four of us were, the last photo session of the night for the photographer.  It had been a very tense time in our house since Easter Sunday night and frankly, we were a very fragile bunch.  But something happened during that session:  The four of us laughed together for the first time in a very long time.

We sat in that hot, miserable room, all of us looking really, really awful for different reasons.  (I personally picked a shirt that simply doesn't look good on me.  It's too light for my fair skin.  Normally I wear it under a sweater, but like I said, it was July.)  But there was something that was so funny about the photographer, what we were doing , and everything, it was like a dam broke and all the tension that had hung over us broke and we laughed together and healed.

I keep this picture on the fridge.  I love remembering that day because it was so special. Some time ago I realized I like the way I look because I look like a blond version of my aunt Carol, who is a beautiful soul and if I turn out to be like her I will be a success in my life.

Now here we are, and it's Christmas.  There's trouble in every corner of the
world.  And yet, I can't help but feel optimistic.  Maybe the world leaders will continue to screw up on a monumental basis, but if we here in the real world can shut out the shrieking, shut out the anger, and reach out to each other, we are going to be okay.

So whether you celebrate Christmas or not, let's all take a minute and see the beauty of things, even in the smallest things.  Leave an extra five dollars as a tip for your waitress.  Hold the door open for a string of people at the post office.  Give your mother a hug even if she makes you insane every day of your life.  Don't give the biggest or shiniest gift, give the one that speaks from your heart.  Hum or whistle a happy song.


Friends, I celebrate Christmas, the birth of Christ.  My basis of my faith is hope.  In my writing, I bring to life characters who are very flawed, but have hope.  If I take nothing away from 2013, which started out so very, very wrong, I can take this:  Hope is never lost where there is kindness, love, peace and laughter.

So, where ever you are, whatever you are doing right now, I want to wish you a heartfelt Merry Christmas...and my hope is that we are all just better to each other in 2014!

 

If a negative review gives birth to something awesome...is it really negative?

Good evening!

I'm so super excited!

You all know how I love, love, LOVE new cover art, right?  Well, a few months back I got a semi negative review about "Dream in Color," my first novel, and my beloved baby.

"Dream" has sort of been through a number of peeks and valleys.  I sold it originally to Wild Rose Press, who gave me the awesome cover are there to the left.

However, after completing my contract with Wild Rose, I wanted to take back my rights, which was fine, but Wild Rose got to keep the cover art.  I was bummed, but excited about trying my hand at cover art.  So I created the cover you see there to your right.  I was quite proud of it and thought it captured the spirit of the book.

Nay, nay said the readers.  No, one reader complained, the people on the cover were far younger than the characters in the book.  True, but I thought they seemed a bit older than the original cover...still apparently the person writing that review was bent out of shape because she got a free download and then was forced to read a book about middle aged people, when she thought she was getting a YA.  Hey, sister, read the back of the book blurb next time.  Never buy a book just for the cover.

Anyway, I was able to brush that one off, sort of, but then I got a review where the writer was grieved that the male on the cover did not have long enough hair to suit main character Jesse Alexander, the rock star.

Really?  You gave me a 3 star review because the guy on the cover had short hair?

Well I pondered that for a while and, after a few months of working on other book covers, I honed my skills a bit and realized that I should take another stab at this cover.  And ladies and gents, I'm excited to give you the big reveal right now:

TAH DAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Click here to buy the book on Amazon!

 

I think this is the winner.  Not that book sales are based on covers, I'd like to think the reading public is smarter than that.  BUT, I think this cover catches the spirit of the book, and the length of Jesse's hair.  Which, as I've found out, is the key ingredient to this book.

 

So I guess I have to thank that reviewer.  They may have thought they were skewering me with some sort of whit, but in reality they just made me a better cover artist.  I mean, look at that guy...that guy is HOT!

 

Now, Amazon seems to be cranky about getting this cover out this evening, but within the next 24-36 hours, this cover art will be available on all formats on Amazon.  Of course, if you have a device that's not a Kindle, you can download the book with the new cover pretty much right away by clicking HERE!

 

I think I have to disagree with Shakespeare...

"What’s in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;" If you're like me, you read William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" somewhere in high school.  I had to read it as a freshman and our teacher insisted that we memorize the balcony scene and act it out for the rest of the class.  Now, this might be hard to believe, but back then I was not quite the cool, outgoing, awesome person I am today.  I was quirky, but shy with people I didn't know.  So my best friend, Rachel, and I memorized the scene.  She was Romeo, I was Juliet...mostly because she was taller than I was.  (There was an inequality of boys to girls in that class...in the girls' favor, and yet, Rachel and I weren't all the keen, at the ripe age of 14, to act out literature's greatest love scene with some guy.) Those words have stuck in my head all these years, mostly because my husband is a big Shakespeare fan so we see a lot of Shakespeare plays and movies.  A lot. But after crafting my own tales of love lost and what not, I have to say, I think I disagree with Shakespeare, a tiny bit.  I think the name we give things plays a gigantic part in how we feel about things.  I think names, words, are very important.  A rose by any other name might not be something I'm interested in sniffing.  If we called a rose, let's say, a dung blossom instead, who's going to sniff that?  Sure, the flower still smells nice, but the beauty of the flower is lost because the name is all wrong. Look at how parents agonize over naming their children.  (Well, some parents.  I get the feeling these days that some parents just spew out the first word that comes to their head and then the kid is stuck being called "Apple...")  We study names and meanings of names and we think about how the kids on the playground are going to twist that name into something horrible  (a  big reason why our son isn't named "Amos.")  Words, names, are important.  You are going to treat someone you call James with more respect than someone you call Jimmy.  Jimmy is your buddy from down the street who can be counted on to bring beer and try to balance a spoon on his nose.  James will wear a tie to pretty much everything and can do your taxes. And yet...it's the same name.  Right? It's how we as authors have to approach writing.  We have to think about the words we're using.  Language is a big, broad, ever changing landscape.  (Unless you're writing in Latin, of course.)  We want to use words and images that put the reader in a place or time by using words and images that are timeless.  We don't want to get too caught up in current pop culture because that culture will fade and if our books and stories are going to be read beyond our lifetime, the words, the images, have to be timeless.  Sure, we have to use fewer words than our author forefathers did.  (I can't even imagine a 1200 page tome like "Les Miserables" getting a look from an editor now.  And "Moby Dick?"  That would be pared down about 400 pages before anyone would even blink.) We live in a faster world.  We have to get to the point faster.  We still have to use the right words. People like Shakespeare movies because the stories are timeless, even if the language bugs us, the visuals are always good.  Reading Shakespeare is difficult, true, but once you get an ear for it, you realize he used the words he meant to use and said the things he meant to say in a way that even we, how many hundreds of years later, can figure out.  Four hundred years from now, I'm hoping someone will read my novels, Fresh Ice, Dream in Color, and Lies in Chance and feel the stories the way I wrote them because I worked so use themes and words the exact way I meant to. My mother always grumbles because I have adult language in my books.  Well, let's see:  One hero is a rock star.  One is a hockey player.  One is a sort of a cowboy.  I don't see any of those guys saying something like, "Oh shucky darn."  You have to use the right words to set the mood, reveal the character, and say what you mean. Otherwise, a rose by any other name might smell sweet, but no one is going to give it a look.

For Vicki

Rick Springfield has a copy of my first novel, Dream in Color and that's due to a wonderful lady named Vicki.

I'm telling you this because Vicki passed away last week, ironically enough a short time, maybe hours,  before she was to see her beloved Rick Springfield in concert.


Though I'd only spoken to her a few times, I thought of Vicki as a friend.  She and her best friend, Wendy, were fellow fans of Rick Springfield and that is a sisterhood, for sure.

I met Vicki through Wendy.  Wendy, a few years ago, heard me talking on the radio about my book, a rock and roll romance with a Rick-like main character.  She and Vicki reached out to me and Vicki told me she knew Rick and that she could have me meet him.

I won't lie, I had my misgivings.  I mean, right, she really knew Rick Springfield.

Turns out, she did.  She was able to get a copy of my book to him, (so now he has an autographed copy of my book) and he signed one of my books for me.  (I keep it on my desk as a reminder that dreams can and do come true.)  She also made good on the promise for me to meet him, even though that darling woman had to all but tackle him in a bowling alley.  (And that's a great story, let me tell you!)  Thanks to Vicki, I was able to have the greatest thirty seconds of my life.

Vicki had been ill, but her dedication to all things Rick was undeterred and I envied Wendy and her as Wendy posted new pictures about their Rick adventures.  Vicki's smile and her spirit glowed in every one.

Vicki passed away late last week.  Wendy and I, it turned out, were at the same concert that night  (it was a big place, we didn't see each other).  On my way home I got a text from Wendy giving me the bad news.  My heart goes out to Wendy, who lost in Vicki a very dear friend and concert buddy.

In thinking about Vicki this week, I'm reminded how closely we are all connected in this life, even though we don't think we are.  If I hadn't written that book, if I hadn't done that radio interview, I would never have met Vicki and Wendy, and I sure would not have had that beautiful, awkward, hilarious moment with Rick Springfield.

It's those random connections we make, that matter.  Vicki made more of an impact on my life with one kind act than most of the people I've known for years.  She gave me more confidence in my writing life than any of my family members, and she did it just because she could and she wanted to.

We all have that person in our lives, or maybe if we don't, maybe we should be that person in someone else's life.  I know that since meeting my two "Rick Chick" friends I've been more aware of the people around me and what I can do to just make their lives.  I haven't found that amazing thing yet, but I know I will.  When I do, I will look heavenward and say, "this is for you, Vicki."

This isn't about charity or some big picture "tapestry of mankind" thing.  This is about looking around and seeing a moment when you can do something unexpected for someone, maybe even a complete stranger.  This is about doing something nice for someone...and you may not even realize the impact you have on their lives after that.

I call on all of you to take a moment and think about this:  Is there something you have or can do...no matter how small you think it is...that would change someone's life forever?

I challenge everyone who reads this to ponder it.  And when you find that thing, when you are able to give someone the best 30 seconds of their life, I want you to do it for Vicki.

A new web address!

Good evening!

Back when I started this blog, I had just sold my very first book, Dream in Color, and I was awash with glory at the idea of starting a blog and selling a book.  So  my blog address not only contained my full author name, but the name of the book.

It was way, way too long.

Then recently I shut down my personal website.  Very few people were finding it and in the interest of streamlining my operations, I closed it.

Today I shortened the web address a bit so this blog is easier to find for those of you who haven't bookmarked it as the most amazing blog about the writing life...ever.  (Okay, in my dreams, it's the most amazing blog about the writing life.)

Ladies and gents, I give you:  authorsarahjbradley.blogspot.com

It's a bit better.

Anyway, I wanted to share that with you.  Now I must get back to edits.  I'd like to think the Elsie book will be out sometime next week.  Which means I have a lot of work to do between now and then.

 
 
 

Sneak Peak Sunday! "FRESH ICE"

Good morning!

Haven't done a Sneak Peak Sunday in a few weeks, and with "Not While I'm Chewing" due to come out this month, I thought I'd just remind you all that I have 3 other books available for your reading pleasure! 

Click here to purchase "Fresh Ice," "Lies in Chance," or "Dream in Color."

 

Today I'm giving you a quick chapter from "Fresh Ice."  I hope you enjoy it enough to check out the whole book!

*************

“Now that was a good meal!” Adele held the door open as the girls, Sean, and Izzy stepped out of the dark, closed space of the Irish pub and into the sticky damp of the early Nashville evening.

“Who knew you could get the best Irish food in the South?”

“Show me, Sean, where deep fried pickles are Irish food.” Izzy grinned.

“Okay, you got me there. So, who’s up for a stroll downtown? Maybe find a place with great live music.”

“Sounds like fun. Girls, you wanna hang out with the parents a bit more?”

“I’ve got just the place!” Mikayla tossed her hair and laughed at her mother. “A place called ‘Second Chance’s.’ Jenna, you are going to love the bands they have there and the guys are seriously hot, it’s a complete meat market!”

“Oh yes, that’s what a mother wants to hear from the mouth of her daughter.” Adele frowned at Mikayla. “Izzy, how about you?”

Izzy glanced in the direction of the hotel. “I was thinking I’d just turn in early.”

“Oh Mom, come on. Please come with us?”

Izzy looked at her daughter and smiled. “Okay. Where is this place?”

The walk to Second Chance’s was several blocks down to the heart of the music district. As warm rays of the sun lengthened and cooled in the settling of night, revelers filled the sidewalks and the doorways of the countless clubs and eateries. Music and neon throbbed through a haze of mouthwatering food smells. Dazzled with the color of it all Izzy was hardly conscious of the distance they’d walked until Sean opened a door and said, “Here we are!”

The girls evaporated in a sea of dancing bodies while Sean led Adele and Izzy up the stairs to the bar, where tables lined the railing overlooking the stage.

“I’ll go get the drinks, ladies, you enjoy the show!” Sean left as Adele and Izzy looked at the band on the stage.

“At least it’s not a howling band.” Adele toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. “I can’t abide howling bands or bands that are too country, you know what I mean?”

“Sure,” Izzy answered vaguely, leaning on the railing to get a better look at the band.

Sean returned with drinks, and the rest of their conversation faded from Izzy’s consciousness as she lost herself in thoughts of her future now that she held a winning lottery ticket. She sipped her drink and nodded politely whenever Adele glanced in her direction, but her brain was busy sorting out what she was going to do. She was so deep in thought, she wasn’t aware the music stopped until she realized Adele was shoving her roughly. “What, Adele, what do you want?”

“Why does that man look familiar?”

As she focused on the tall, dark haired man on stage, Izzy took in a deep breath. The man was perfection. Under the hot lights his dark, gleaming hair just brushed his strong jaw. I’ve seen him before.

“Ladies and gents,” his easy, light Tennessee accent stirred something warm and wanting deep inside Izzy. “I’d like to thank you for coming out tonight and listening to some great local bands.”

“We love you Quinn!”

The unified shouts of several women startled Izzy, breaking her trancelike concentration from the man

Quinn smiled back at the audience. “I love you all, too. Most of you know I make my living talking about sports, but music has been a passion of mine for years. How about a big hand for Chance, for keeping this place open and bringing us fantastic independent music night after night?”

Here he pointed up to the balcony, where a spotlight suddenly glowed near Izzy. She didn’t look toward the owner of the bar, who waved at the crowd below. Her gaze was locked with the clear, blue-green eyes of the singer. She couldn’t look away and she couldn’t blink. Those are the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.

He’s the man from the funeral.

Everything around her narrowed until all that was left was the glow of the spotlight around her. Izzy saw nothing but Quinn’s eyes looking up at her. He held his gaze steady with her for a silent eternity. Everything else was dark and silent, like a protective cloud around them. There was no time, no sound, just the glow of recognition in his beautiful eyes. It didn’t matter one bit that they were strangers and would probably never be closer to each other than in this dumpy space. There was a connection between them, and Izzy was lost in it.

“What are you staring at? Do you know that guy?”

Izzy blinked at the staccato blast of Adele’s voice, and the connection was lost. The party below raged on as the band Quinn introduced started playing. Quinn was gone.

Izzy, too, ached to leave. “I’m sorry, Adele. I’m not good company tonight. I don’t think I feel well. I’m going to go back to the hotel.”

“You’re not sick are you?” Adele’s eyes narrowed. “We have a lot of moving to do tomorrow you know.”

No room for discussion about that. “Oh, no,” Izzy wiped her eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need…I need some air. I think I’ll walk back to the hotel.”

“What, right now? Alone?”

“Sure. It’s not that late, really, and besides, you and Sean, you guys need some time alone, too. So I’ll just get back.”

“Are you sure?”

Izzy looked over the balcony hoping to spot Quinn, but she couldn’t find him. “Oh, I’m sure. I’ll be fine.”

***

She’s here. Quinn walked backstage and laid his guitar in its case. Isabella Landry is here, in this building. I could reach out and touch her and it wouldn’t be weird or stalkerish.

But what could I possibly say?

Well, she seemed really interested in what I saying. I could go up and maybe thank her for coming or something. That wouldn’t seem weird. Quinn rubbed his hands across his face. That’s the best reason I can muster for going up to meet a woman? Good manners? My, how the mighty lady killer has fallen. Shaking his head at his own folly, Quinn started for the stairs.

“Quinn, dude, where ya goin’?” One of the musicians put a hand on his arm.

“I saw someone…I have to catch up with.”

The musician’s face creased with a lecherous grin. “It’s a chick, isn’t it? I spotted a couple out there I’m thinkin’ of scorin’ on, too.”

Quinn shook off the drummer’s hand, repulsed by the lecherous expression on his face. “You’re a pig.”

The drummer shrugged. “Yep. I’m a pig. But I’m a pig that’s gonna get laid.”

Quinn ignored the band members’ cat calls as he ran through the back stage and up the stairs. Once in the bar, he scanned the crowded room. She’s gone.

“Hey, Quinn!” Chance shouted over the din of conversation. “I told you, didn’t I? You’re good for business!”

Quinn nodded to Chance, but searched for Isabella.

“Who ya lookin’ for?”

“There was a woman up here. Probably at that table where that couple is.”

“Buddy, there are a thousand women here and quite a few of them are age appropriate. Take your pick.”

“No, Chance, this one was…well, I’m looking for her. You don’t remember if she was with that couple?”

“Quinn, are you kiddn’ me? Look around! I’m workin’ here! If you’re so interested, go ask them if they know her.”

Quinn nodded to Chance and stepped away from the bar. He studied the couple at the table and toyed with the idea of approaching them. A light tap on his arm broke his concentration. Looking to his left, he saw two women, girls really, both looking very interested in him. “Hello, ladies.”

“My friend and I think you are the hottest thing in this place.”

Quinn’s face warmed as the two women moved close enough for him to be very aware that neither was wearing a bra…and both were young and firm enough, not to need the support. “Well, um, thank you ladies.”

“So how about if we get out of here?”

Quinn closed his eyes. How often have I turned down an offer like this?

Never.

When was the last time anyone offered?

Sally.

The thought choked him. He couldn’t breathe the air in the bar anymore.

“Oh Quinn, you must introduce me to your new little friends.”

Quinn shivered at Serena’s icy touch. Of course she showed up. She’ll find a way to make me regret doing something remotely fun without her.

He looked down into her glittering green eyes and gave her a smile. Hopefully Isabella Landry left before Serena sniffed her out.

That would be something for the gossip reporters.

Quinn almost smiled at the thought.

“Ladies, you’ll have to excuse us. Quinn has a previous engagement.” Serena’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at the girls.

“What, you really have to leave so soon?” The braver of the two also seemed to be the denser of the pair.

She is clearly not reading the dynamic here.

“Yes, I’m sorry, little girl. But I sure there are more age appropriate men elsewhere in this…place.” Serena gave a little sniff to remind Quinn how much she hated Chance’s.

“Geez Quinn, can’t your mom let you come out and play?”

Ah you brave little idiot. Quinn didn’t need to see Serena’s face to know exactly what she was thinking. She buried her nails deep in the skin on his forearm.

“Listen here, co-ed…” Serena’s normally cool voice was a ragged snarl.

“Okay, ladies, how about we all just say good night?” Quinn freed himself from Serena’s claw and put a hand on each of the girls’ shoulders. His fingers dangled just close enough to their twenty-one-year-old breasts to make both the girls giggle. I’ve still got it.

I can’t make use of it anymore. But at least I’ve still got it.

“Now my lady friend and I are going to move on, but I’m going to have my friend chance take care of you this evening. Chance!” Quinn pointed to the two girls. “You take care of these ladies, and put it on my tab, okay?”

Chance nodded and winked at Quinn.

“There, now you two have a wonderful night on me, and thanks for coming out tonight.” Mustering up every ounce of Southern charm he had, he kissed each of their hands lightly, causing them to erupt in another wave of giggles as he ushered a still seething Serena out the door.

Once outside, Quinn inhaled the humid night air. “So, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

Serena’s hand stung across his face before he saw her move.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Don’t you ever act like that around me again, Quinn Murray!” The light of an over head streetlamp made her sharp features seem hollow, dark. Yet her eyes glowed with rage.

“Act like what? I was trying to keep you from killing those girls.”

“Why? They were horrible little bitches.”

Quinn put both his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, they were horrible little bitches. Horrible little co-eds whose daddies would probably love to bring a lawsuit against you and the station if you actually did tear their eyes out.”

“You weren’t thinking about me. You were thinking about those girls the whole time, wondering what they’d be like.”

“Serena…” he crouched slightly to look her in the eye, “when in the last two years have I not been thinking about you?” At least that much is true. The thought of her haunts my every waking nightmare minute.

Her jaw tightened. “Why would you even be here, on stage? You were the one who got up on stage and made them all want you, just like you used to. And I won’t have it, Quinn. You belong to me now.”

Her words shattered against him like glass against a stone wall.

As if I could ever forget. You won’t let me replace you with other women and I won’t let myself drink you away.

Isabella Landry is back in Nashville. And not even that thought can wipe out our little arrangement.

“Serena, of course I belong to you.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and guided her up the street.

“Really?”

He knew this new, desirous tone, well. “Sure.”

“Then let’s go back to my place and you can prove it.”

“Great idea,” he replied with hollow enthusiasm. Isabella Landry, the woman I’ve adored for two decades, is somewhere in this town, and I’m shackled to Serena.

He pictured Isabella’s face as she watched him from the balcony. Her face melded to Sally’s.

And what could I possibly do to deserve anything else?

Reviews: How seriously can you take them?

Good morning and Happy Memorial Day to everyone!  (Here in the US we take a day in the spring to remember our veterans and to thank them for the service they've given to their country.)

Just got my first really, really negative review.  It was on Dream in Color, and the author of the review opened with "Don't waste you time and money."  Ironic, since the reviewer, SB  (not me, my initials, yes,  but not me) didn't pay a nickel for the book. SB went on to say that the characters were too far fetched, but not in a good way.  Looking at the other reviews she wrote for other books, I see 1)  She reads a lot and 2)  she really likes thriller series involving people in super heroic situations.

So I guess it would be true that a story about a middle aged woman living a life of quiet desperation and being in love with a rock star from her childhood would seem a little out there.  I guess having an overbearing boss and a nosey mother is just something SB has never encountered.

Okay, enough sarcasm.  But seriously, I'm letting this affect me.  This three sentence review done by a person I don't know, someone not brave enough to put his/her full name on the review has gotten me down and I'm wasting a golden day of writing fretting about this.

How seriously can we take reviews?  When you're new and unknown in this business, as I sort of am, every review is important because there aren't many of them.  Most of my reviews are from people I know or friends of friends or someone with some sort of connection to me.  Only recently have I been getting reviews from complete strangers.  Some are very nice...one is very not.

We all want positive reviews.  It makes us feel like we're on the right track, like we're doing something good.  One negative review, especially one this  completely negative, can send anyone into a tailspin.

Is it a measure of talent. this review?  Is it a true commentary on the content of the book...or is it just that a person who has no connection with a character quite as "every day" as Ramona Simms may not understand the ache in her heart every day for something she isn't supposed to want or have?

Folks, I can't be objective here.  But you can.  Kindle owners, I'm giving away all three of my books today on Amazon.  Today only! 

Click here to get started!
If you like them, leave a review.  If you don't...well, be honest...but gentle!

A Bit of Shameless Promotion!

Good morning all!

So you all know I currently have three books out there in the world just waiting for you the purchase.  But I've noticed while Amazon seems to be the biggest marketplace for authors such as I, that many of you might want an alternative to the Kindle e-book.

Have no fear!  You can shop at Createspace, which is yes, an arm of Amazon, but it's the home to print on demand copies of books written by people like me.

If you order directly from Createspace, your favorite indie author gets paid a larger royalty.  I'm telling you this because hey, we working authors need every penny we can get and ordering directly through Createspace actually cuts out the Amazon middle man.

So, here are the direct links to my books:

Click here to purchase Fresh Ice!

Click here to purchase Lies in Chance!

 

 Click here to purchase Dream in Color!

 

Enjoy the read!  And then go forth and write!

 

FREE DREAM!

Good morning!

Super special for everyone for the next three days:




My Rock and Roll Fairy Tale, "Dream in Color"  is going to be FREE on Amazon Kindle starting tomorrow, Sunday and running through Tuesday!

Click here for the free Kindle book!

  If you have ever had a crush on someone who seems out of reach...this is your book!

Ramona Simms doesn't live a colorful life. She has a dead end job, a gassy dog, and a mother who believes marriage is the only measure of success for a woman. She dreams her teen idol, the retired rocker Jesse Alexander, will take her away from everything someday, but the only Prince Charming in her real life is her coworker, the persistent, colorless, Virgil. Then Ramona learns Jesse is coming out of a retirement to do a series of concerts. Convinced this is her destiny calling, Ramona sets out on the journey of a lifetime, dreaming to turn her black and white life to something far more colorful.



This Kindle download will be free Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday!  Happy reading!

Will a new cover mean new sales?

Good afternoon!

So recently I got my rights to my first novel, Dream in Color from the original publisher, the Wild Rose Press.  We parted on very good terms, and I highly recommend submitting your first romance novel to them if you are ready to do so.

But in getting back my rights, I lost the cover art.  So I had to get new cover art and since I didn't feel like paying someone else to do my cover art, I went and did it myself: 

 

A front and back cover, and I did it on my own!  I was pretty impressed.   But what impressed me more is that, while sales for Dream haven't exactly made me independently wealthy, I have in the last month, outsold what I did all last year for this book.

 

Was it the cover art, I wondered, or the lower price?  Or both?

 

So I went to my second novel, Lies in Chance. I loved that cover art, but sales were very, very slow.  So I thought I'd spice it up a bit and see what happened.  This one took a lot more work because it's a much more complicated story and because I really wanted to capture the essence of the book.  And because I had no idea what I was doing  

 

Front cover.

Back cover.

I love it.  But does it mean more sales?  I thought the first cover was awesome, but readers didn't gravitate toward the book.  I'm hoping this is a bit more attractive.  I won't know for a while, since it just went live late yesterday.

The other thing I'm wrestling with is "To Kindle Select or NOT to Kindle Select."

Common sense says not to put all your eggs in one basket.  But reality is, I'm selling books on Amazon, and I'm not selling books too many other places.  In fact, the only thing I've managed to get on the Barnes and Noble website is a negative review talking about how the characters are too likable to be real...and how the book needs proofreading.  The funny part is...the author of said review misspelled at least two things.  I love irony.

So do new covers mean new sales?

I can't wait to find out!

(Oh, and lest we forget, I have a third novel out...Fresh Ice and I have no intention of changing the art on that one! 

 

New chapters...

Good evening!

A lot has been happening here, which you probably guessed since I haven't posted in a couple weeks.  Well, let me give you a run down:

1)  Fresh Ice  is doing quite well on Amazon, and I'm so excited every day to see people enjoying this book.  I can't WAIT to get out and do some book signings!  If you have a local book store and you'd like me to do a signing, let's see if we can make it happen. 

2)  Dream in Color is officially mine alone.  After a really great three years with Wild Rose Press, I took back my rights and have slaved for the last couple months at creating new cover art and new files to upload.  The new edition will be available in the next couple days exclusively through Amazon.

3)  Lies in Chance, the story of  my heart, will be the next one to undergo a bit of a makeover, depending on how Dream in Color does.  Reviews for this book have been stellar, but I'm still waiting for the right group of readers to find this book, and help me prove the establishment wrong about indie publishing.

4)  Meanwhile, yes, my workplace books about Elsie W are taking shape.  I won't lie, I love writing fiction more than humor because fiction is my escape.  But, while the March release date for "I can't Fix Stupid..." is simply NOT going to happen, look for the first Elsie W book to be out before the school kids are.

5)  Oh yes, I have started a new novel.  I don't want to give away too much, but let's just call this one a sort of sequel to Fresh Ice and Lies in Chance.  Thanks to my critique partner, Linda Schmalz, I'm thinking of someday bundling the three books into a sort of trilogy.  And, since we all love a good villain, I'm thinking of calling it my "Wicked Women" trilogy.  (That's got ya wondering, doesn't it?)

6)  It's with some sadness that I'll be closing my website soon.  After a lot of thought and notes from a very enlightening writer's meeting, I've decided to close down sarahjbradley.com  and focus on my two blogs since I can do everything with my blogs that I would do on a website, and you all seem to find me here more than my website.  I worked hard on it, so I'm sad to see it go, but letting it go means I have more time to do what I love most:  write.



So that's what's happening right now and if I'm not here quite as often as I have been it's because I'm focusing hard on producing more stories for you to enjoy!  I can't wait to see what these new chapters in my life are going to bring, and I hope you come along for the ride!

Meanwhile...go forth and WRITE!

One small step for publishing, one giant step for me!

Good morning!

So I've been teasing my Face Book Faithful with an announcement about my first book, Dream in Color.  I'm ready to make that announcement public right now.

After three wonderful years with The Wild Rose Press, I decided it was time to bring Dream in Color in with the rest of my books, and I requested Wild Rose revert the rights for that book back to me.  Since my contract with them was fulfilled anyway, Wild Rose was kind enough to give me back my rights.

They just had a couple things they wanted to make sure I understood.

1)  They would be removing the book from their website and other sales outlets.

2)  I had to make a couple small changes to the book itself, so that it wasn't the exact same book they'd sold.

3)  I would lose my cover art.

I expected the first two points.  The third one knocked me over.  I love that cover art and, up until last night I had zero knowledge in anything about creating cover art.  But hey, Wild Rose said all this would happen in 90 days.  I had, I told myself, lots of time.

Until the other day, when I saw that the download format for Dream was no longer available ANYWHERE!  GACK!  I needed to change the book, format the book, and make cover art for the book RIGHT NOW, and I had no idea how to go about that.

But last night I had a break through, and I spent some quality time glued to my desk.  I hit my favorite image website Dreamstime and learned the ins and outs of how to purchase images.  I then spent a lot of time with my paint program, you know, that thing on your computer you usually use to scribble on but haven't really learned how to use?  Oh, wait, that's just my issue?  okay then.

Finally, I went to the dreaded place where book covers struggle to get published, Create space.  This is where I've uploaded my other two books for print publication, but I always wrestle with book covers.  Last night was no exception.  However, I'm fairly confident, and very, very excited this morning to show you the result of my work.

 

I still have a number of things to work on before I am ready to re release Dream.  But after last night, I'm feeling far better than I did this past week and I can't wait to share everything I've learned, along with this book I wrote  (Your first one is always going to be your baby).