So many updates, so little time.

I hate blogging on the weekends, but here I am anyway. There is so much going on that I could probably blog everyday for the rest of the month so I am trying to combine things to keep that from happening.

First Chapter 3 of my free serial, The Gods of Market Street is up now. Thank all you wonderful people who have told me how much you enjoy it on Twitter. I smile every time I read a tweet from my readers saying they are reading my serials or books, so I feel like a bad person--but I have to ask you to please, please remember to vote for it on jukepop. It's free for you to read, but I will completely upfront with you and admit I only get paid if it is a top serial. Since I normally get paid for my writing it is almost a step in the wrong direction. BUT I love being able to let you read my books for free so I am really hoping it works out for both of us. Thank you so much for your time!

Speaking of free, my friend and Publishing partner Larry Kollar is having a huge week. He's got a New Release, Pickups and Pestilence--the Sequel to White Pickups; and his Anthology Oddities is FREEEEEEEEE go grab all of them if you are missing any! I did all three covers.

Also Larry is having a KINDLE GIVEAWAY! Run over and enter, I'll wait here.

In other news, I hit 6k Twitter followers. It was pretty shocking since wasn't I just making the 5k announcement? I wouldn't be anywhere if it wasn't for you.

Don't forget that awesome Pigments of My Imagination giveaway I'm having. You can also read the first three chapters for free here. It's still on schedule for release of May 27th--it was looking like it might come out early; but of course there was a set back *sighs dramatically*

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Wednesday for Writers #1 Why Your Second Book Should NOT Be How to Publish a Novel

Everyone on the Internet is a freaking expert. That is why I absolutely hate giving people advice on anything. Not a day goes by where someone with thousands of followers less than me on Twitter wants to give me advice on how to gain more followers. Because clearly, they are so much better at it than I am.

You can't make this crap up.

I am not sure it is an epidemic—yet, but I have noticed a disturbing trend as I sit back and wait for some social media website or another to do tricks. It is the number of self published authors who have decided to write books on self publishing. For laughs I decided to go check some of them out. An outrageous number of them are second books. That's right, these idiots think they are qualified to tell you how to make a life changing move after doing it exactly one time.

You want to get driving lessons from some punk with a learners permit?

You wouldn't even pay to get your haircut from someone who had only done it once, but someone has to be buying this garbage. Here is a hint, you can get it all for free. And starting today, you can even get it from me.

As a general rule, I don't really like blogging how to things for writers. There are a lot of personal reasons for this. The first is, I am not an expert. I publish my novels, I have been published by an indie press, and I have founded a publishing co-op. That isn't the same thing as having all the answers. That's never going to happen. The second reason is, most readers don't care. So many people forget that writers are not your target market. Despite what their sheer numbers on Twitter would lead you to believe, there are more non-writing readers than the other way around. Lastly, there are a ton of other resources out there already for free—which I am sure is where most of these How to Self Publish Your Novel people got their information from to begin with.

I am pretty sure it has been over a year since I had broke my how to rule. I might have slipped up—if someone was absolutely wrong on the Internet! But suddenly people care what I think. I have no idea when it happened. It just did. Randomly, I'd have some new follower ask me for some kind advice or something book related every week or so. Now I am up to like three a day. Many times they ask me the same kinds of questions. Since someone took the time to ask me, I like to take the time to give them the answer without just sending them to some other website. Thus, it was starting to take up more and more time. So I have decided to devote a day a week to helping other writers. I will even take questions. You can @ me on Twitter or leave them in the comments. I will do my best to get to all of them, but please try and be specific. I get asked how to publish, or even how to write a novel almost every day. That's like asking someone directions to a destination across the world. Every time I read a direct message like that I think about it for three seconds, wondering if maybe there is some easy, Twitter sized answer I hadn't considered. Then when I realize again that there isn't my brain melts down.  

Don't make me do that. 

Pages of Pigments. Part II

I am blogging progressively later, that's how you know I am up to something. As it is, I am up to many, many things this week. For the second installment of Pages of Pigments I am sharing something with you a little different. Something right out of London 1666. Lucky for you, I was a drama major. FYI, this bit hasn't come back from the editor yet. Sometimes, especially late at night my eyes fail me.

I. See. Commas.

If you haven't checked it out yet, here is Pages of Pigments Part I--where you can read the first 3 Chapters of the book. Make sure you enter the giveaway. It's posted here, as well at the first post. There are ways to enter everyday! I *want* you to win.

Freshly fallen leaves crunched below the toes of her cream slippers. Tufts of the crinkly foliage gathered near rocks and tree roots, but most of it still was attached to the branches overhead. Large pockets of leaves were still green, and they stood out among waves of yellow and red. The wind seemed to whistle through them like they were curved lips as they danced and shook all around her.

Lucia was lost, in her head, and in these never ending woods. There were too many sounds, too many smells. All slightly out of focus like an old photograph, like baby pictures she had forgotten were ever taken, even though they were of her. Everything was so dull, and far away, until a sharp crack sounded from behind. Her burgundy dress glimmered, catching the light as she whirled around.

“I beseech thee young miss. Do not be leery, for though I be neither friend, nor foe, I could never raise but a finger to your porcelain skin.”

It seemed hundreds of years out of place, but Lucia would know that voice anywhere. How could she have forgotten it? How had she not known him the moment she saw him again.

“Oh, I know thee well Leonardo Stone, Painter of Light, and thou hast spent many moonlights by my windowsill, singing verse to I; who was feigning sleep. Beseech me not. Though I know thou would not strike my flesh, I cannot say the same for my heart, for thou are betrothed to the fair Helena!”

It’s a very strange thing to relive your heart breaking the exact same way all over, splitting as if by old fault lines that had long healed and had since been forgotten. 

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PAGES OF PIGMENTS #1 Read 3 Chapters for Nothing of PIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION

So for hitting five thousand followers on Twitter I promised my readers the first three chapters of Pigments of My Imagination for nothing, and here they are! Only a bit late because there is a ton going on behind the scenes these days--and apparently my editors are human (but I don't believe any editors are human).

Lets start with the boring stuff. I own all the rights to Pigments of My Imagination. I give you permission (and encourage you) to share what I have shared with you here, so long as you don't take credit for it. Simple stuff!

I am having a *sweet* giveaway for the rest of month to go with it. Giveaway deets are below the chapter links. I provided all of the pages in Google docs because they are long, and they were making my blog a mess yo!

AND here is the big kicker, this isn't the only excerpt that is coming for this book. I plan on doing a few more on Mondays and Fridays until release day. Check back often because there are so many chances to win I can't even remember them all! Lucky for me, Rafflecopter can!

Click here to at POMI to your Goodreads TBR list!

PIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION CHAPTER LINKS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three

Enter to win: Bookmarks, Posters, or a giftcard!


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THE GODS OF MARKET STREET. See the NEW cover. Read it for nothing. Vote to keep it going.

The second chapter of THE GODS OF MARKET STREET is now LIVE. Along with this, the brand new cover. As much as I appreciated all the love the previous cover (with the same image) got it, was making me INSANE. I had to toss it together quickly to do the submission (think <5 min) so I went back and changed it up a bit.

PLEASE. Wander over to JukePop Serials and vote for it. You can vote for every chapter. As much as I love and want you guys to get to read this serial for nothing, this gig only pays if I do well. 

Provided no one dies, starting next week I hope to update it Tuesday & Thursday until it's completion. Apparently, my editors have the nerve to be human. In addition to the serial we are editing 3 full length novels--two of which are mine! I still owe you guys your 3 chapters of PIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION in honor of my hitting five thousand Twitter followers BUTTTTT I decided to roll it into this awesome thing starting tomorrow called Pages of Pigments. There is going to be SO MUCH AWESOMENESS involved.

Happy Birthday to my FAVORITE little hobbit!

Last night I hit some massive mile-markers on my journey as an author. It wasn't in books or stars, it was in followers and finders. People who care about me and what I do. People who look for me. Last night this blog, the one you are looking at RIGHT NOW rolled over 50,000 page views and I hit five thousand followers on Twitter.

I remember when I had eight Twitter followers and two hundred page views but more on that Wednesday; when as promised I shall be putting the first three chapters of PIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION, here. So everyone can read them. FOR FREE. Hopefully early in the morning. This after dinner blogging is for the birds.

Today is big freaking deal, because it's Frodo's birthday. Frodo, one of my favorite book bloggers. Everyone who is human despairs at some point, and it just so happened that he rescued me from a very dark time in my writing career. The pit where I would have gone to die--or at least the pit where I was planning on hiding all my stories away; to never, ever be seen by anyone else.

So if you like my books--you know who to thank, because I'd have given up without him. I wanted to give him something special! It hasn't seen the editor yet it's third in line so no one panic. But this is for you buddy. Chapter One of Barneby Knotts. I can't even post the cover, because that's for a different day, but I hope you like it! I know it's a shorty ;)

P.S.--the husband's birthday is tomorrow. He is going to wonder why he didn't get an EPIC blog post.

I held my breath willing the window not to squeal. If anyone heard me now, I'd never make it out. 

        I'd be a prisoner here for months, the whole summer trapped in this box. I'd go mad. At least, that was what happened last time mom caught me sneaking out the house.

Slowly, painfully slowly, I lifted the dusty frame up a millimeter at a time. My fingers damp with sweat, black grime sticking to them like fingerprinting ink leaving evidence of my crime. My window always jams halfway up, but it had to be enough. I couldn't risk sneaking out the back door again. My sister was on to me. 



When I was sure that was as far as my window was moving, I turned back in facing my bedroom. On my bed lay my  empty black Jansport. I shoved my school books deep under my bed, where I hoped my mother wouldn't dare look for anything. If everything went according to plan, I'd be off seeking treasure, and she'd think I'd gone to school early because I put off my math homework again.

Really the plan was almost flawless. 

Propped against my desk chair was the sword my father had given me for my last birthday. It had belonged to his grandfather, and now it belonged to me. You rarely need such weaponry in these urban gigs, but it felt wrong to leave it behind. 

I was still wearing the same sweat pants and over sized t shirt I always wore to bed, but under that were my favorite pair of jeans, and holiest band tee. I peeled off the top layer, and used it to wipe the black smudges from my window away before tossing them it the corner of my room. Just like I would do any other school morning when I as half awake. If I used the hamper my parents would know something was up. 

I used what little light came into my room from the window to glance into the mirror. My hair was a mess, just like always. Black tips falling into my face still held in place by yesterday's hair gel, the back flat where I'd feigned sleeping for a few hours. It was so dim my brown eyes looked black, pupil-less, but the circles under them stood out above anything else. A small price to pay for the chance of a lifetime, I told myself. Grabbing my bag I slid out my window soundlessly. My feet landed softly on the roof of the back porch. It was a bit of a chore to get the window to slide back down as this side of it was smooth but eventually I managed. 

Flinging my backpack on one shoulder I stopped to listen. No one in the house was awake to catch me escape, and I was one jump closer to getting away with it. I stared over the edge of the roof, wondering which way down would make less noise. Shimmying the column or just dropping?

I sucked in a breath and stepped off. 

The night was warm, it was almost summer in Texas. The wind whooshed in my ears on the way down. I landed on my feet but with a much louder thump than I was hoping. I ran, not looking back to see if anyone had heard me. I thought I heard footsteps echoing on my path, but they were surely mine because the night was dark and empty. 

Read my new book THE GODS OF MARKET STREET for NADA!

That's right! I have turned my unreleased novel, The Gods of Market Street into a serial and listed the first chapter on JukePop Serials. I originally wrote the book for the 2011 Three Day Novel contest. I *really* wanted to add another book to my list in the first half of the year, (other than the ones scheduled Pigments of My Imagination, Dust of the Dead Sea, Barneby Knotts) but I just couldn't fit it in.

This is a fun new venue I am trying out. It helps me give away my books for free, which I enjoy, in a completely different environment. The only thing I ask is that you take a moment to vote for The Gods of Market Street if you enjoy it. Chapter 2 and 3 will be up soon. 

Want to win a $40 Amazon giftcard? Check out the details below!

Contest runs until 11:59 PM EST 4/30




Here is the blurb:
Grace Teller is no one. All that is left of her former existence are shadows of memories, no weightier than the daylight, and fading just as fast. Yet, in the center of her being, are the things the universe is made of--and something even older than that. As the storm inside her mind becomes a cloudburst over New Orleans, Grace seeks out the only person who might know who she was supposed to be: her father. Only when she is around the god-like Carawyn does Grace wonder if who she is right now is maybe all that matters.

But as the newness wears off on her new life, the person responsible for erasing the old one resurfaces--claiming that she belongs in Grace's new family as well.

The Gods of Market Street is a Young Adult Paranormal Romance.




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