Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Best Way to Kick-Start your blogging? A Blogfest!

Some of you may know that I've rather swiftly infiltrated the LTUE hierarchy and, in 3 short years, volunteered my way from She-who-had-never-heard-of-LTUE to Pitch Master. Then, during LTUE 2013, I agreed to be the Assistant Contest Coordinator. Coooool. :)

All of which leads up to this: we're having an LTUE Blogfest to advertise the contest for next year. Next year is gonna be huge because not only do we have amazing celebrity judges, but we also will be PUBLISHING THE WINNERS! Which is much cooler than me.

To gear up for the contest, which opens to submissions in a couple months, the Blogfest will explore What Works? What sci-fi or fantasy short story, poem, or illustration struck a chord with you, impressed you in some way, or made you recommend it, go back to it, ponder on it, etc?

Get all the deets at the LTUE blog, and make sure you sign up on the Linky list.

Cover Reveal: Feudlings in sight by Wendy Knight

To help me come back from my blogging haitus, I'm posting twice today. :)

First, a cover reveal! With a rafflecopter giveaway!

I'm again impressed by the awesomeness of Wendy Knight's covers. This one is a Fate on Fire novella, Feudlings in Sight! Available Thursday on Astraea Press, Amazon, and all other major ebook retailers.


Boys of war suck at romance.

Charity Delyle has lived in the shadow of her Prodigy cousin and his powerful Guard since the day she was born. And she doesn’t mind—really. Except that being in Hunter’s shadow means that he can’t see her. And she’d like that to change.

Hunter has one purpose in life: Protect the Prodigy, or die trying. That means a social life, school, and even Charity come last until the war is over. For the most part, he’s okay with that—he can lose everything if he has to…except his seer.

Starting at a new school should be much safer than living in a war-ravaged Carules headquarters. But this new school is different than the others. Friendships are forged and destinies are questioned, and Hunter’s decision could cost them all everything they’ve been hoping for.

“Okay, do you want to practice the ones we learned last week or just start new ones?” She had carefully color-coded the spell book with sticky tabs — spells they had mastered, spells they had practiced, spells that would come in handy one day — she was very organized. And if the Council ever found out she put sticky tabs in a book that was over three hundred years old, they would kill her completely dead.
“Learn as much as you can, Shane. Gonna be hard to find a place to practice in the mountains of Utah, surrounded by Normals.” Hunter idly traced spells in the air, letting them fizzle and die without igniting them.

“Well, alright.” Charity flipped to the red section — spells that would come in handy one day. She started at the top. “This one is called an Al-able.” The odd word rolled awkwardly off her tongue. “It’s like… it looks like it’s sort of a flat triangle of flames.”

Hunter and Shane both walked over, studying the spell in the book before tracing it slowly into the air. The spell wouldn’t actually ignite until they lit it with the flames roiling through their blood, but they both wanted to make sure they could do it correctly so as not to explode them all to pieces or something.

“No, no, Hunter. Less harsh lines. Softer.” Charity glanced down at the page and then up at Hunter’s disaster of an attempt. Sighing she laid the book on the metal next to her and pushed herself to her feet. She took Hunter’s hand, trying hard to ignore the way her own blood seemed to explode into flames. There’s no magic there, she told herself harshly. “Like this.” She led his hand through the spell until the air smoked and the image burned in front of them. She looked up, got caught in his gold eyes. He watched her, an unreadable look on his face.
It made her heart stutter in her chest.

Before he could say anything she dropped his hand. “Now try it on your own. I can’t do everything for you, you know.” Charity grinned playfully, dodging out of the way as he tried to push her over. She rescued the book from the twisted metal and perched, watching them expectantly. “Go. Do something.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Give the girl a book and she’s suddenly the boss.” He moved away several feet so he wouldn’t accidentally ignite her. He’d done it before, and Charity didn’t relish the idea of it happening again.

BIO: Wendy Knight was born and raised in Utah by a wonderful family who spoiled her rotten because she was the baby. Now she spends her time driving her husband crazy with her many eccentricities (no water after five, terror when faced with a live phone call, etcetera, etcetera). She also enjoys chasing her three adorable kids, playing tennis, watching football, reading, and hiking. Camping is also big: her family is slowly working toward a goal of seeing all the National Parks in the U.S. You can usually find her with at least one Pepsi nearby, wearing ridiculously high heels for whatever the occasion may be. And if everything works out just right, she will also be writing.

Twitter: @wjk8099
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorWendyKnight
Blog: www.writethroughthenoise.blogspot.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7009940.Wendy_Knight
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Sometimes Hiatuses are Unplanned

It's been over a month since my last post.

It's been longer than that since I've written in my WIP. Any of them. Including the new-shiny.

This Thursday will mark six months since my divorce.

Next week is eight months since the world turned upside down and I had to reevaluate everything I thought I knew about the one person I'd sworn to love forever.

A week and a half ago, that person swore to love someone else till death do they part.

Sometimes creative energy has to be diverted to bolster fried logic centers. And to compensate for a brain made so much mush by too little sleep.

I'll be back. Not sure when--this working-single-mom gig takes a lot of time, but summer is gonna be over eventually and I'll be able to get the restless natives to go to bed at a more reasonable hour. Methinks. Mehopes. Meprays.

Meanwhile, I'm pretending that my subconscious is hard at work on my WIP. Maybe by the time I can write again, I'll know who my antagonist is. And what s/he wants.

That would be nice.