Fight Like A Girl

Fight Like a girl is the title that I came up with for this picture. It was actually one of the pictures my sisters and I were playing around with for the cover of TAINTED, but it just wasn't quite right.

However, I did LOVE the picture because I felt it was a symbol of something I am proud of: girl power.

Now, I think there is a fine line between girl power and girl power. I like this picture because it goes against the societies norm of the meaning of fighting like a girl: slapping and pulling hair in the nice sissy-la-la way. It symbolizes that girls are just as powerful and can kick some major butt when they want too.

When my husband and I started dating, a big thing for me was that I wouldn't let him open a door for me. I had two hands and amazingly, strong enough arms to open the door for myself, thank-you-very-much.

When I was eight months pregnant with my daughter I changed my flat tire by myself in the pouring rain. When a guy pulled over and asked if I needed help, I smiled as I tightened the bolt and said, "no thanks, I'm good."

Yes I can handle any tool in my husbands garage. Yes I am the best when it comes to directions. And yes, I think girls have to have awesome super girl power to be able to be a mother, a friend, a wife, a maid, a cook, a tutor, a career woman, and still find time to be an individual who follows her own individual interests.

That being said, now ten years into our marriage, I would LOVE for my husband to dote on me and open my door (not that I can't...but maybe him doing it shows his adoration for me). If I were to ever get a flat tire again and a nice stranger offered to help, then I might just say yes because honestly, it would have gone much faster (maybe) and I wouldn't have gotten soaked to the bone.
And having my husband take over being mom, being cook, being maid, being tutor, is probably one of the most make-me-smile things ever.

Because girl power doesn't mean that we HAVE to do everything better than boys. It just means that we can if we want too, but sometimes the power in being a girl is stepping back and letting the men show us what they got. And that, my friends, can be the most rewarding thing ever.

So in this line of thought, I decided to take a look at Gage's point of view. Throughout TAINTED, he is fairly quiet. He let's Jemma take the lead and steps in when she needs it. But on a whim I decided to write one of the scenes in the book from what he felt and saw. Now it's not incredibly deep, but I did add it to the end of the book as an extra for the paperback version.

And who knows...maybe in book two of the TAINTED series we will get a chance to hear a little more from the love of Jemma's life.

Spilled Coffee

This morning started out like ever other morning...rushing and scrambling as soon as my feet hit the floor. Every morning at 5:30 am, my alarm goes off, I rush to make the kids lunch and breakfast, wake the kids up, lay out clothes for the kids, grab some clothes for myself, help the kids put their clothes on, tell the kids they are old enough to brush their own teeth and put on their own shoes, brush MY teeth, then help them brush their teeth and put on their shoes anyways because they are taking too long, grab and load all of the homework, backpacks, jackets, food, keys...and then we are out the door.

Now, normally, because I work with kids all day, I wear black and jeans. It is easy and if things get dirty I don't mind. Well, in my rush today, I decided to change it up. I dressed in light cargo pants with an equally light long sleeve top that has thin orange stripes (one of my favorites).

This is where the fun day begins. Following my husband into the equipment room so I can talk to him while he gets the items he needed to teach his PE class, he set down his piping hot coffee mocha next to me. In his attempt to hurry, this lovely coffee gets tipped.

Or more accurately, hit with his shoulder slash elbow and thrown at me, exploding at my feet and staining my lovely and not so kid proof outfit. Or should I say husband proof.

I tried washing it. No such luck. For the rest of the day I had students asking what in the world I had spilled all over myself.

My husband felt horrible for the rest of the day and tried to make it up to me by lots of quick kisses, lunch, and a Vitamin water (also one of my favorites).

And his attitude towards what was obviously an accident is just one of the things I find incredibly perfect about him. He was what I needed to make walking around stained with coffee all day not that bad.

Later this evening I was speaking with my mom and we started talking about characters. In the stories that I write, I find it hard to stray too much from some very core characteristics that make heroines and heroes likable.

In the books that I write, the lead females have very strong personalities. They are survivors and fighters. They are also usually stubborn in an independent way.
My males have a protectiveness about them and a willingness to just love the girl they have fallen for. Or like my husband, be exactly who that girl needs when she needs him.

Now, from these core characteristics, I branch out. One may love music, one may be more passive, one may have a temper that can flare at times...the list can go on.

But those core characteristics tend to stay because they are what I tend to love in fictional characters. But this can get boring when coming from the same writer book after book. There needs to be some challenge for a writer in really getting into the head of a person with a different character make up completely. A lot like acting.

And so, for one of the books I have started building the framework for, my challenge for myself to grow as a writer is to create a completely different heroine....who is also just so darn likeable you wish she were real.

How about you? What do you find in a lead female or male character that draws you to them?

Vampires, Fae, Werewolves...Zombies?

So it has now been 48 hours since I published my book. And I am still nervous.

My husband keeps telling me to prepare for any backlash. People who feel the content is not what they would normally read or may be upset that I would even write it. But in all fairness...it is in the description.

The title for this particular blog seemed fitting. All these fun little make believe things that are written about and consumed by our fiction loving population but many still carry a certain disdain for. I personally, love them. Well most of them anyway.

As a personal rule of mine, I generally will read anything once and if I love it I will read it a thousand times over and add it to my collection of books that clutter my room and living room. 

As a young adult, reading young adult literature was expected. Then came adulthood. Suddenly, I was worried that my YA obsession would be frowned upon. I tried and tried to get into reading literature that would be considered adult. But I just couldn't do it.
Non-fiction bored me (I read books for the same reason I love theater and watch movies, to escape reality for a time). And other books contained material that was either way too graphic that I was blushing or language that made me cringe.

So I turned back to young adult secretly. Hiding the covers so people wouldn't know. And then slowly, I began to realize it was nothing to be ashamed of. It is FICTION for goodness sake. Vampires, Fae, Werewolves...yes please. Tell a great story and I am hooked.

But then that leaves the zombies. Oh the zombies. Not so much a fan. Until I rented a book called The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan. I rented it because I thought the cover was cool. I read it and only realized about a third of the way through it WHAT I was actually reading. A zombie book.

When I realized this I literally slammed the book shut and stared at the wall thinking oh my gosh. It is a book about zombies. I set the book down, clean house, watching the book carefully as if it was going to jump up and become my worst nightmare. But it didn't. And eventually I was so stinkin curious about the characters that I not only finished it, but bought the next three and read them within two days. And that was all it took.

Because I realized that yes, I do not do gore. I hate it to be more precise. But I do do survival. I do love girls who kick butt and a story of the desire to fight for love and a life worth living.

And so this brings me to my book, Tainted. I wrote it because I wanted to get into the world of a young girl who has to survive a world in which an out of control virus is taking over. Call it zombies, I say chemical warfare and a super virus. I wanted to write a story of a girl who is willing to sacrifice everything for others. A story in which hope cannot be killed, but the tainted can. A story that is minus the gore but full of suspense.

And if I get backlash for that...then oh well. So be it.

So here it is.....
http://www.amazon.com/Tainted-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00788GBFK/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1329097393&sr=1-7

Swallowing Fear

Well. Here I am. Sitting at my computer trying to wrap my mind around what the heck I am doing. For a few years now I have followed several friends who blog and am amazed at their ability to write what is in their heart and share it with the world. Some are hilarious, some are briliant, all are entertaining and draw me back week after week. But never in my life had I thought I would EVER start my own blog.

So, why, you ask, have I started this now? Well, for years I have written stories. Not real life, not what is in my heart, but the crazy little things that flitter through my mind. And then, after days, weeks, or months I carefully tuck the story into a box somewhere, never to be seen by anyone but myself and maybe my family. If they are lucky.

So today I actually did the unthinkable.

I self published a book.

A 240 page...66, 000 word book.

And my palms are still sweating and my heart is still pounding.

I try to reason with myself. What is the worst that can happen? But that reasoning only gets me about this far...
1) Everyone will hate it.
2) Everyone will think I have wasted my time.
3) I will be humiliated and will never be able to show my face in public again...And maybe die from said humiliation.

Yes, I know, that's a little dramatic. But part of my writers brain, that has created characters who mean something to me and stories that I love, dreads that unlikely possibility.

Yet, when I think about the absolute worst outcome, it is nothing like the silly ones listed above.

Regret. A serious case of the what if's. Growing old and knowing that I let my dreams slip away because of fear.

So instead, I am learning this year to embrace that which I fear and run forward, following my dreams.

And for every ten that hate my work, I will be happy with just one who loves it or even likes it. And with a few more pep talks, I think that is something I can live with.