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 |  Thoughts and deeds taking me on my path toward insanity. |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please visit me for updates on the Myth to Life series as well as other writings, don't forget to leave a message in the guestbook, and join the site at: http://www.eairwin.webs.com I would love to hear from you! |
~ Quote of the Day ~ Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum. ~Graycie Harmon Hello everyone; I don't think I'll ever get tired hearing myself repeat this as I write the words ... another installment of "Myth to Life - The Rise of Riley McCabe" is being released today, May 7th, 2008. Woo Hoo! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** http://www.mysticmoonpress.com/bookstore/ http://www.fictionwise.com/ I'm really excited and trying to remain under the anxiety of one more story out there needing to be read by the public. You would think after several releases the anxiety would go away, wouldn't you? It hasn't. But amid all the anxiety and struggle to find a readership, I truly am happy because part of the ongoing saga of Riley, Braedon, Andrew, Quinlan, Desmond, as well as a few unsavory characters and enemies are out there mingling with the rest of the literary world. A small beginning for me, but one I hope will grow as more people read and become familiar with my characters and their lives - and of course buy my stories. At times I feel schizophrenic with all the characters clamoring for a continual storyline, while I juggle the scenes and conversations of such a varied group of lovers and miscreants. But isn't that what writing is all about ... bringing all those characters and their emotions to the page so people can enjoy reading? I hope so otherwise I'm wasting a giant portion of my life scrawling black ink into a lined notebook. One of my friends at work, a fellow writer, has read several of the series stories. After reading the second story, "At Death's Door", he asked me if I talked as much as my characters did because they had a lot of conversations with each other. That had to be the funniest thing I'd heard in a long time since I'm rather a sporadic talker and talk very little once I leave work. I'm sure I'm like a lot of writers in that regard, always saving bits and pieces of me to put into a story for someone to read. I'm still hard at work on the next installment of the series - "Blood Betrayal", and with hope will have the final rewrites and edits completed in the near future for the publishers to read. Plus, I've begun the fifth story and have the rough draft almost completed. These have been harder to write due to my work schedule, but I'm slowly plogging along, keeping the characters anxiously waiting for their next cue so they can enter the stage of Riley McCabe. Little did I realize how apt the first part of the title of the series would be. Myth to Life. Sounds a little like my life.  Thank you to those who continually support my writing as well as me. I cannot do this alone, and, frankly I enjoy the company of the few who are brave enough to walk with me through my odd little life and this publishing venture. You are very special to me and life is much fuller for knowing you. Thank you for reading my words, thank you for caring that I make it. Ta and peace, Patricia |
~ Quote of the Day ~ The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life. ~Jean Giraudoux Hello everyone; There are many seasons in our lives, some are short, some last a lifetime. Often we are so busy we miss both while continually living at a fast pace, or we don't wish to recognize the cycle of life changing. Seasons are important; for they signify the beginning and end of things, joy and disappointment, triumph and heartache, life at its fullest, and death with its finality. And, with hope, the revelation of mysteries buried deep within not only the earth as its season's cycle, but in our lives. The past six or seven months have been particularly hard for me. I will admit this since I am human and get to experience the emotions. A few know some of the heartache and drama, along with the highs - no one knows the other emotions of deep pain and hurt, often with despair at its core. Yesterday I worked another overtime shift. I usually don't work Sundays but I need the money (you know, that operation thing hanging over my head), so off I went. Last night I got home after 9:00pm, marking my 66th hour of overtime for the week. None of which I'm forced to do except by my bank account. A little side note: I have been dreaming more this past week. Not remembering much, but at least there weren't any nightmares. But one dream was extremely remarkable in that it was so vivid. I opened my bank statement, and there it said in black and white - $21,000.00. I don't know why the number 21,000 but I was happy in the dream. Now, if the dream would only translate into real numbers to crunch. Today, I think I'm gong to skip the early overtime because frankly I'm tired. So today I said stop for the moment and enjoy standing still. I haven't missed the spring season, my favorite, but I haven't really enjoyed it because of hurrying through it on my way to work. I used to talk about my garden. I enjoy gardening and planting things to see them grow, or in my gardening mind, placing odds on how fast the newly planted shrubs and flowers were going to turn to brown sticks or just fall from the ground in a display of angst. But there are a few stalwart shrubs and flowers which refuse to say they are giving up. Maybe I planted some of my stubborn nature along with their roots when I placed them in the ground. Can we do that? Because I tried love and that didn't work. I decided I'd take a few snaps of the flowering items which still thrive despite my neglect and share the few moments with you. The pictures aren't great and a few were taken after the magnificence of the first beautiful blooms, but I needed to chronicle something other than a time card showing all the overtime hours. My grandmother and mother would consider the afterthought as 'a day late and a dollar short' but at least the pictures are here as a testiment to the changing of the season. And that's okay. Another season is happening, and the blooms now lie on the ground in their deadened state and await removal. Such is the cycle of life. We bloom and then we die. Hopefully along the way someone took a picture of us in our most glorious blooming state and captured the good in us as they savored our loving perfumed scent, even knowing we would eventually change into something different to sustain a new cycle of life. The mirrors have been brutal this week, quite a funhouse experiece in my head with all the distortions. I have a mirror stuck in my brain and a plate-glass size shard stuck in my heart. Lots of things to deal with, a load of poo to wade through. But through it all, I keep seeing the steady reflection of me at the end of the room. The reflection that never wavers despite the entire world feeling as if it is falling around me or actually on me. I see her calm face, with her beckoning smile, a mad giggle escaping her lips as she holds out her hand for me and any others I've picked up along the way to join her. I see the person who managed to survive. I see me and I still like what I see. I like me. I wish all of you a wonderful day. Ta and peace, P p.s. Well, I can't figure out how to make the bloody pictures appear here since there are in my Photopia folder and I don't know the secret magic code for transferring. But if you are interested in seeing the pictures, take a look in "Invalid Item"  . The garden pictures are at the bottom of the group. If anyone knows the magic formula and would like to share, I'd appreciate the knowledge of transferring pictures.Thanks, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "A dream has power to poison sleep." ~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Mutability" Hello people; One of my friends at work asked me, after reading one of my stories, if I had nightmares and if they influenced what I write. Jokingly, my answer was this: I would first have to sleep in order to have a dream cycle. Plus, I ususally don't have nightmares about anything that I've written or had nightmares which have caused me to write anything particular. Frankly, I don't watch gorey slasher television or movies even though I may write about it. Some may find that weird or odd, but my mind needs down time just like everyone else's so many times I treat my mind to something far different than what I write. Plus, I'm not influenced by what I've seen and have a preconcieved mental imprint before I write. The nightmares I usually have are about real things -- like not having enough money to pay the bills, or what I said to someone that is going to haunt me through eternity, things like that. Everyday life that has run amok and I have to relive it in a dream ... if I ever slept that is. Last week at work, we discussed dreams over lunch. Or should I say the analyzation of dreams. I don't try to analyze mine too much since I spend my days overanalyzing everything I read, touch, people with whom I speak, you get the drift. I'm an overthinker and at times my brain is overwhelmed, so adding the analyzation of dreams just, well, is overwhelming. But I found the conversation fascinating as people described their dreams and nightmares and the group went at it and began tearing apart each dream trying to find the root cause. I will admit I have had several recurring nightmares in my life, mostly when I was younger, probably due to the control of many circumstances not being within my grasp as a child, which precipitated the nightmares. Pseudo-Freud here. But I was game for the exercise in dreamscapes so I added my nightmares to the mix. One person came up with a fairly good reason for the recurring nightmare (which lasted for years) and as I thought about it the reasoning made sense. Probably because I was no longer having the dream and my inner child had grown a little. Plus, new adult problems had taken the place of the small child problems. But Sunday night I woke from a nightmare, my first in a long time. The nightmare was extremely vivid, but for the life of me I still can't remember one thing about the dream. All I know is that I struggled to wake from the dream due to whatever was happening. The nightmare forced everything in me to react which began a vertigo spell. I dragged myself to a sitting position and sat on the side of the bed for the longest time just to get my bearings through the intense confusion. The odd thing was my brain kept telling me there was something hidden in the dream that I needed to know. I've rarely had that type of dream or nightmare where it became imperative to know the reason behind the dream, so I sat there trying to allow my mind to relax in order to let the dream weave back through my mind. Nothing happened, including sleep. I think I finally did sleep about three hours that night, but all the sleep happened in 5 minute increments, a fitful night tossing and turning, changing directions in the bed, tearing off my nightgown because the room and noise were oppressive and it seemed as if the nightgown was binding me to the dream and further entangling my senses. I don't know what to make of this nightmare because it haunted me all day yesterday and into today with its phantom nothingness. Yet, I know there is something still remaining hidden within that nothingness that I'm supposed to find. I can't shake the feeling nor what it means. It's as if I were connected to someone else's brain waves at that moment and they are trying to send me subliminal messages so I can react for them because they can't. Sounds crazy huh? I sounds crazy to me, although there are times when I have been on the same wavelength with other people and have spoken the exact thoughts they were thinking. I'm not sure what to make of any of this, but I had to share to get some of it out of my head. Am I a sensitive being or do I merely possess an overwhelmed mind. I guess this will be question #47 when I seek therapy. Until then I guess you get to decide. Oh, and as to the poem yesterday. Maybe I should have just written two precises lines to describe how I felt about the situation, since writers should cut all extraneous words from their work. Here's how the poem should probably read: You shit on my head, I wish you were dead. See? Nice and consice. I think I need a good dream to offset that.Hope all of you are well and attempting to stay out of mischief. Ta, Patricia |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "Looking at yourself in a mirror isn't exactly a study of life." ~ Lauren Bacall Hello people; I had a little more to say today, but time evaporated and I must head to work. I'm still working with the mirror, and like every reflective surface, I am shown things I dare to unearth inside my head and heart. Consider this a prelude to one of many reflections and probably rants I'll share with you in the future. The poem was written for the Neverending Poem a few weeks ago. I thought I'd share it here today because the words hold meaning. False meaning and changed words to reflect a different situation, unlike what I have been assigned by someone else to feel. I only wish that I had had the thought for the carnal pleasure of the act instead of merely the assumption I participated. Have you ever gotten caught in someone else's mirror and their reflection of themselves? Sometimes it is tres unpleasant because you get to go through what they should deal with as they walk away from the mirror satisfied with what they have seen when they should have been studying themselves more honestly. Ta and peace, P Your promises . . . broken by betrayal, spoken shards of shattered trust impale my innocence left alone in despair, my carved and bleeding heart no longer held securely within your loving embrace. Amid the maddened murmurings, the whispering world watches, their vicious vibrations mix with your vindictiveness, crumbling the pedestal upon which you placed me. Unable to gather my fragmented feelings, I am decimated-your destruction complete, I rent my clothing in grief and stand before the multitude naked and revealed. Through this my love remains pure and untainted, my annihilation casting me into a remodeled role- Fallen Woman. |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "When a man meets catastrophe on the road, he looks in his purse, but a woman looks in her mirror." ~ Margaret Turnbull Hello people; I hadn't intended on stopping in here tonight, but then thought I might share a bit, so here I am. 'They' tell you, (I know, who the heck are 'they' anyway), that a writer should never put a mirror in a story and allow the character to talk to it. I suppose 'they' have their reasons, but since I don't like to adhere to reasonable things, I wrote a story in which the main character talks to the mirror, sees things in the mirror, goes on the other side of the mirror and the mirror speaks back. Of course the story hasn't hit the airwaves yet, so I'm not sure of the feedback I'll get.  But I have a fascination with mirrors. I don't know why since I'm not really Narcissus and don't while away most of my day staring into one, but there it is. Another odd fascination to add to all my other fascinations. When I wrote the story about the mirrors, naturally I had to do a little research. I know all of my friends will probably say I don't believe her, she never researches anything, she lets others do it for her. They would be correct, only because they know once I start researching the research rarely ends and I'm so far from my original goal of mirrors that I'm soon researching the moon because of its reflection, which sends me to Saturn and why it has rings, which will lead me to another tangent thought about rings either on fingers or around a tub. You get my drift. A mirror is just a bit of glass with a solid backing which creates a reflective surface for us to behold our loveliness in. The glass used to be backed with silver, now amalgam is used. Yep, the stuff they fill your teeth with ... I'm assuming it is a higher grade amalgam in your mouth, but what do I know since it would take more research to find out if there are different grades of amalgam. Maybe amalgam only has one grade since it's a combination metal, like two metals screwed onto each other which forms pot metal and you can't get them apart. Egads! See, the research is endless. And for those of you who also truly know me, know I am not a foot-notey type of gal, much to Char's chagrin. Don't yell at her, she tried her darndest. So in honor of Char's footnote collection, I offer this definition of amalgam. Obviously, you can tell I'm never going to make it in the non-fiction writing department. Amalgam is a commonly used dental filling that has been used for over 150 years. It is a mixture of mercury with at least one other metal. Currently, dental amalgams are composed of about 40% mercury, and 60% powder where the powder is made up of silver (~65%), tin (~29%), copper (~10%), and zinc (~2%). Amalgam has many advantages over other restorative material, such as low cost, strength, durability, and bacteriostatic effects. Its main disadvantages are poor aesthetics on anterior teeth and the known toxicity of mercury. Concerns about possible detrimental health effects from the low levels of mercury released from amalgam have resulted in a decline in the routine use of amalgam in recent years. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amalgam Back to the mirror. I bet you thought I'd lost myself in another tangential flow. It is 1:30 in the morning as I write so the chances are great we may stray into uncharted territory. Since I am intrigued with mirrors and 'they' said I shouldn't write about one, I thought what the heck, I'm going to talk about mirrors. There are lots of mirrors in our lives which provide reflection ... the amalgam backed one which shows us our individual physicality, traits, and warts, as well as other mirrors (or some may say barometers but they have to get their own blog for that) which reveal our moral and ethical characters, our spiritual and emotional well being, and yes, also our failures. Today, I saw many things in my mirror. After a weekend which was filled with great angst, uncertainty, emotional upheaval, and exhaustion, I will admit I was pretty spent with nothing left to give anyone. But you keep giving because life has to continue. Wednesday, once again my head told me 'no, you don't get to abuse me any longer' and provided me with a nice present of a major migraine with all the loveliness they involve. Not wanting to chance another full-blown episode of vertigo and loss of equalibrium, I said, 'okay, we've done everything except fall out of bed from spinning today, I'll call work and not go in'. My head agreed. But as I looked in the mirror, the ravages of the continual migraines and illness were evident on my face. I can tell you I don't like the purple rings under my eyes which I never possessed before. I can tell you the chalk-white skin isn't pretty and it being replaced at times with red blotchiness isn't attractive either. I can also remind you that I'm not enjoying losing clumps of hair that blow through the bathroom like falling leaves when I dry my hair. I can tell you that the vision before me wasn't pretty. But life continues, despite what I see in the mirror. I slapped makeup on my face, arranged what's left of my hair, and thithered onward to work. I will also admit that I honestly enjoy some of the people with whom I work. My immediate pod group (yes, can you imagine being called a pod and what all the chat is about that one word?) holds some of the funniest women I've been around in a long time. We have managed to make some of the horrible situations at work better by just being us. One of my friends sits on the other side of my gray wall where I used to sit last year. So when I returned today, the first person I see is her, my wall-mate's face shoved around the corner of my space staring into my eyes. She asks me how I'm feeling, and then proceeds to tell me I look like shit. I laughed. As my pod-mates came in, they told me I was missed, which was really nice, and then each told me I looked like shit and my eyes just looked awful. Now I have a definition of what shit looks like ... blonde and faded, balding with purple bruises under her eyes. I suppose my mirror didn't lie, and neither did they. But what was nice is that although that reflection of my physical traits was true, another portion of what I am to them was also revealed ... to me. Sometimes we can't get passed what we see in the mirror and offer that reflection or misreflection to the world as what we truly are. The reflection continually hounds us as if what we truly are is trapped between the glass and amalgam and will never change. I've always said if you don't like what you see, then make some changes. Try something new, make yourself better on the outside even if you don't feel good on the inside. At least something will look better as you work on the tragedies inside your brain. Is that trite and superficial? Definitely. But somehow it works ... just a short term remedy. So why would I even say anything like that? Because most of the world is superficial and only sees itself as a refection of what we usually cannot attain. It is only when we see ourselves differently in the mirror's reflection that we can make true change happen. My mirror doesn't hold a great reflection these days. I've mentioned my face, my pudgy body is also reflected there. I can change what is on the outside with a lot of help and cosmetics. But what of the mirror that reflects my inner man? Often it is scarier to look into that mirror than any amalgam-backed glass known to man. I'm daring to look at my inside mirror these days. My reflection isn't pretty, but it's still there, when I wasn't sure it would be. How does yours look? Need to make any changes? Like I said, I have a fascination with mirrors ... both physical and emotional. I'll let you know what I have seen when next we meet. Perhaps you can share what you've seen as well. Thanks for listening. It's 2:30am and I'm headed for bed. Keep close. By the way, I want to say a special thank you to Kimmy-dear, who sent me the picture of the pirate and American flags atop the ship masts. It was a great present to receive after hearing how bad I looked all day.  Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "In the middle of difficulity lies opportunity." ~ Albert Einstein Hello People! Wow, I looked at the last time I wrote in here and it's been ages. Life continues at break-neck speed, at times a mere blur as I race through the day and mingle my writing with fifteen minute breaks and a half hour lunch. Mornings I usually feel like I have a hangover after working 91/2 to 10 hour days and getting home after 1:00am, so not too much writing is happening then. Editing and answering bits of mail here and there seem the only things accomplished most days. The several hours while I unwind before bed I try for a bit of writing before shutting off the light for the night. A few pages have appeared, the scrawled handwriting from my cramped hand a testiment to too many hours working on a computer. However, I have great news! The final edits on "At Death's Door" were completed and sent to the editor late last week in order to meet the deadline for publication. Hang on everyone. Today, "At Death's Door" is released at Mystic Moon Press: http://www.mysticmoonpress.com/ and will probably hit Fictionwise eBooks: http://www.fictionwise.com/ within the next few days. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I'm really excited to have the second story out there for everyone to read and provide comment on when they visit the sites. And, at Mystic Moon Press, I now have my own author page, P. A. Matthews, which provides blurbs about the stories, excerpts from the stories, as well as a link to the bookstore. Hopefully tomorrow I will have my website address also listed so people will be able to write me there and provide me with feedback as well as letting me know you're out there and what you're doing. http://pamatthews.webs.com/ Oh and just a bit of promotion (I'm so bad at this) if you would like to purchase a coffee mug with any of the covers from my stories, they are available at Mystic Moon Press in the giftshop. I don't receive any proceeds, but if you want a momento, other than my huge thanks, a few items are there to purchase. Who knows, maybe one day I'll have my own line of merchandise to sell. Maybe I should run a contest to find the best catch from the Riley series to print on a mug of my own. Sounds good. Gosh, where would we be without mass marketing taking over our lives? Yes, I'm a sellout author. Hate me, love me, just buy my stuff! So, amid all the craziness and lack of time in my life, I am still getting out there and trying to deliver what I hope will be the beginnings of a long life with Riley and all her friends and foes, and provide those willing to share my life a bit of reading pleasure along with my friendship. Speaking of friendship, I owe many of you letters and words of thanks. With hope this next week will provide the time I need to sit down and actually write heartfelt words and not merely quick notes. I'm working my way through the notes, although it is slow going these days. Thank you all for your continued support of my writing and especially of me. You will never know how much I appreciate knowing you are there reading my words and caring what happens not only with the stories, but with their author. We can never achieve success solely on our own. Sometimes it takes a legion of behind the scenes warriors to prop up the person striving for the unknown. Thank you all for being my warriors, because you know I'm always standing with my sword drawn for each of you. Here's to everyone having a great day, and a selfish wish from me for huge sales! Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world. ~Virgil A. Kraft Hello everyone; I wanted to wish everyone a wonderful first day of Spring. I have much to share on the subject as I watch winter pass and life emerge from barren ground. I do believe Spring is my favorite time of the year, a time of hope as we step from Winter's death into Spring's eternal promise awakening from its slumber. I even get to celebrate my birth during this time of blustery days and colorful flowers. Until I can write of the things touching my heart and soul, I will leave you with a poem. Hopefully through some of the words you will understand a bit of my soul. I miss each of you. Happy Spring, Ta and peace P Spring by P. A. Matthews Buds freshly formed emerge, subtle, supple, vernal’s verdant theme— ancient variations, leaves bow t’ward radiant blooms beginning a quixotic dance as sweetened zephyrs scent warming air and cottony clouds kiss the azure sky. eternal life springs forth from barren beds awakening the season to thrive, enticing anticipation, resurrection of spirit, revelation of mind, raised to perfection, victorious, conquering wintry death. Double Etheree |
St. Patrick's Day blessing upon you! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Happy St. Patrick's Day from this wee lass as I wish you all blessings from my little corner of the Irish world. In closing, I shall leave you with these bits of Irish wisdom. What Shall I Say About the Irish? The utterly impractical, never predictable, Sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.Strange blend of shyness, pride and conceit, And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat. He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight, Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight. His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears, Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears. His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand, And there is no middle ground on which he will stand. He's wild and he's gentle, he's good and he's bad. He's proud and he's humble, he's happy and sad. He's in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies, He's enamoured with beauty wherever it lies. He's victor and victim, a star and a clod, But mostly he's Irish— in love with his God. The Irish... Be they kings, or poets, or farmers, They're a people of great worth, They keep company with the angels, And bring a bit of heaven here to earth An Irish Welcome Here's Céad MÃle Fáilte to friend and to rover That's a greeting that's Irish as Irish can be It means you are welcome A thousand times over Wherever you come from, Whosoever you be ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ First you're an unknown, then you write one book and you move up to obscurity. ~ Martin Myers Hello Everyone; I keep feeling as though I'm only here to annouce something or anything besides not writing about many things which fill my heart and mind. Some of the thoughts are at the moment too personal to share, other thoughts too pointed for people to understand without me losing the few friends I've managed to keep here, some mere reflections of the small bit of world around me. I will admit going back to work has put a crimp in me writing about some personal reflections since exhaustion is just stealing any bit of ability to share them even though the reflections are many and quite often extremely satisfying or disturbing depending on the day. But I do have the thoughts and hope to write about them when the tornado in my head and life calm a little. And even though I'm exhausted beyond belief some days, I really do like being back at work. The change of schedule to swing and nights has proven to be one of the best decisions I've made this past year. I'm with a new crew, like a good portion of them, and have had some fun days even with all the fast-paced hours sitting at my desk. I'll try to get something on paper to share in the near future. I suppose part of the problem is the fact there are only an alloted number of hours in the day and even though I try to practice time management as effectively as possible, inspiration cannot be slotted in no matter how hard I try. Plus getting the series ready for publication has taken most of my focus whether I wanted that or not. Sometimes it feels as if I'm peering into a magic eight ball waiting for the obscure answer to my direct questions and the little triangular thing keeps bouncing around in the water and never revealing anything. Ah, such is life some days. And I'm not complaining by any means. I'm extremely fortunate to have this experience with writing and with having a job. Many don't have either. Some days are a tad more overwhelming than others. I will admit this past weekend, with the glitches to the book delivery and a few items that still need fixing, left me rattled and put off since there was no way I could physically fix anything, nor make the boo-boo better. Frustration seemed to be the name of the game there while I tried remaining stoic, which wasn't working on my end and I failed at it with others. I guess still being human my emotions are no different than other people. Yet trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism when you want to scream is the stuff on which we have to build character. You'd think by now I would have erected a statue to myself, huh? This morning I decided I'd check out a site that is listed on the Mystic Moon site. I linked to Fictionwise eBooks and found my first book, Between Myth and Blood, complete with it's cover and excerpt, available for reading. Here's the site if you'd like to check it out : http://www.fictionwise.com/home.htmlThis was a complete surprise to me since I wasn't sure if an installment series like mine would make it onto the pages. But it did! I'm listed in the dark fantasy/fantasy section there. I'm excited because even though I can't go into a bookstore yet and purchase my book and hold it, I can see the work online for others to purchase and read. And I'm really happy about that since I'll have a tad more exposure and that's what an author needs to find an audience. Starting out in this game has proven quite daunting and I don't have magic beans or a spiffy new formula to jumpstart the process. Okay, I'm feeling a bit lost. That's the honest truth. This is one of the areas I really don't know how to share with all of you without sounding pretentious or boastful. I want to include you in my walk through this different world because I'd like to share the experience, yet remain mindful I may be talking too much about myself and have all of you bored to tears or just tune out. I guess you all know me pretty well and know I suffer with self-promotion. I can't quite find that happy medium yet. At the risk of boring you more, I'll stop rambling now. I am really excited and am currently writing the fifth installment, number four is currently in the rewriting/editing stage and will hopefully be out by the end of summer. The writing is going a bit slow at the moment, but I've picked up an idea and am working through that to further the story. Thanks for listening today and as always my thoughts are with all of you. Here's to a wonderful day. Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ "Publication - is the auction of the Mind of Man." ~Emily Dickinson Hello Everyone; I can honestly say receiving the news my series, Myth to Life - The Rise of Riley McCabe, was picked up for publication was indeed one of the highlights of my life. Perhaps I should rephrase that - my writing life. I try to keep things in perspective as much as possible (I hear all of you saying, uh-huh, right, tell us more lies P, will ya?), although this time I wasn't sure of the emotions attacking my body and brain when I read the news via an e-mail the series was to be published. Lots of things run through your brain when you get news like that; from total disbelief to oh my gosh, now I really have to put my money where my mouth is and continue with this project otherwise I'm just a one shot deal. Not too much pressure, huh? And there are a lot of items to accomplish once you hear those magical words 'Your Published'. Trying to agree on cover art, edits to the stories before they hit another site, obtaining reviews to put with the stories to draw more readers to your work and the site publishing you, trying to understand how different people work within different parameters at new locations, attempting détente when it seems there is none without compromising your ideas or ideals, along with a myriad of other seemingly climactic moments which don't bring much pleasure. At times all you can hope for is a modicum of success after a long day at work only to find that what you imagined is not really how life at the moment on that particular stage is playing out. Would I change a few things from the time I first heard those magical words? Perhaps ... probably. Is my world perfect with my new call to infamy? Most likely no. But this is what builds character, struggling through to see the final product released. And the first of many stories, each with their own final product, has hit the Internet airwaves. After waiting several months to bring the first installment to the viewing public, I am pleased to annouce †Between Myth and Blood†is now available for online viewing and purchase at Mystic Moon Press. http://www.mysticmoonpress.com/bookstore/ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Unease and torment lie within the chaos between two powerful entities. Will secrets destroy their tenuous relationship? Only one thing frightens Riley more than any enemy ever could ... Enter the world of Riley McCabe - where enigma and myth collide with terror and temptation. With each step taken, Riley is drawn further from a place of safety into a darkened realm filled with ancient foes, and an increasing number of new enimies seeking her destruction. Due to a few glitches along the road on Friday, I refrained from the annoucement until I was sure the product was there for public viewing. I want to say a huge thank you to those who have supported me from the beginning while I've been writing these stories, and encouraged me to keep hanging in there when I wanted to throw the manuscripts at the wall while screaming "I quit!". There's a lot to be said for positive thoughts and words sent your way when you're sitting alone in a room with only the computer as company. Please feel free to send me your thoughts or give a review to MMP on the first installment. I look forward to knowing what you think. Ta and peace, P |
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