T.J. BROWN BLOG

10 Great Authors, 10 Unforgettable Adventures. With every “Today’s Adventure” post between August 1 and August 13, you can register to win the featured book and the grand prize of all 10 books. We’ll announce winners on August 14.  You may enter today’s contest by going to Kate’s Facebook page and liking it. Find links to all the authors below–follow any of them to keep up with the latest adventures.

Here’s Kate:

Everyone needs the chance to be new, at one time or other.  The chance to experience different sights and sounds, the ability to be open to learning new things and new ways of being.  To let go of a (slightly) disastrous past and face the world with a fresh perspective.

That’s how Bridget Forrester feels, in Let It Be Me, when she takes advantage of a tree falling on her house to persuade her family to go to Venice for the season.  She needs a fresh start – last season was abysmal, living in her sister’s shadow. In Venice, she can be someone different, someone mysterious – and she’s been invited to study piano with the renowned composer Vincenzo Carpenini. It will be the grandest adventure of Bridget’s life.

The only problem is, when she arrives, Carpenini has never heard of her.  But his friend, theater-owner Oliver Merrick has.  He’s been writing letters on Carpenini’s behalf, and the minute he sees Bridget’s green, trusting eyes, he knows he’s only invited trouble to Venice.

But when Carpenini and Oliver get Bridget involved in a wager, she is thrust into the glittering and dangerous world of Venice’s musical elite, and she must work harder than she has ever worked in her life.  She must transform herself from an amateur into a master pianist.  But as difficult as it is, with Oliver at her side, it is something magical.

 It becomes the grandest adventure of Bridget’s life.

Ready to join Bridget in Venice? Remember to like Kate Noble’s Facebook page, and you’ll be entered to win Let It Be Me and the other nine stories. Keep up with the latest adventures and get more chances to win through any of the authors:

Alison Atlee, The Typewriter Girl    Facebook

Jessica Brockmole, Letters from Skye         Facebook

T.J. Brown, Summerset Abbey: Spring Awakening  Facebook

Sarah Jio, The Last Camellia           Facebook

Susanna Kearsley, The Firebird      Facebook

Katherine Keenum, Where the Light Falls

Stephanie Lehmann, Astor Place Vintage Facebook

Kate Noble, Let It Be Me        Facebook

Deanna Raybourn, A Spear of Summer Grass       Facebook

Lauren Willig, The Ashford Affair Facebook

Finally!

I finally got a new car. I had one before, sort of, but it was five years old when we got it and I shared it with my daughter and I rarely got to use it. (Anyone who thinks sharing a vehicle with a teenager is an economical solution needs to rethink…) She had to go to work, school and see friends… all I did was sit at home and peck away on the typewriter. In other words, she had a life, I did not. (She may have had a valid point, but the upshot was still that I didn’t have a car to drive) Then my son was using my car. Then my daughter. Then my son.

So I stole my mom’s car.

She wasn’t driving it! No, actually, she  gave up driving, but  since my daughter had my comfortable car and my parents didn’t want to ride in my husband’s vehicle, I  bought her car from her. I just find it ironic that my daughter stole my car so I stole my moms…

ANYWAY,Now that my daughter has her own car, my husband and I decided it was time for me to splurge and buy a car. So I did.

Isn’t it lovely? It’s a little Kia Forte Hatchback. I was originally looking for a Rio Hatchback, but the Forte was roomier and came with a lot more options. If you know me, you know that this little car is perfectly me:)

And yes, on top of nonstop remodeling, my husband and I have been shopping around for cars…because we just weren’t busy enough. I can’t see light at the end of the remodeling tunnel yet, and indeed my house seems to be getting more and more chaotic as we go along, but my car is a bright spot and tomorrow, I am driving it up to an author friends cabin for two days of nonstop writing!!!

ROAD TRIP!

I get a little jealous when I hear of the warm, supportive relationships that other authors have with their critique partners. Some are even epic, like Gena Showalter and Jill Monroe or Rachel Vincent and Rinda Elliot. Others have whole groups, like the Viva Scrivas who maintain their own blog.

I have… no one.

Not that my writing doesn’t  need critiquing. God knows it does. My writing weaknesses include tenses, commas, and taking the easy way out instead of developing scenes to their fullest potential. (My editors are all nodding their heads here.) I credit my first critique group for taking my completely novice self and whipping me into shape so quickly that I had an agent in a matter of months. I wouldn’t be the writer I am today without the input of some wonderful people.

But on the whole, having a critique partner is just not for me. I should have gotten a clue with that first group… the fact that I was such a newbie and still the first one to get an agent rankled. Within a month or so the group had imploded.

I’ve had other wonderful CP’s that were too busy themselves to keep up with the fact that I am a bit prolific. (Understatement) I’ve had others who went in a direction that I didn’t feel I could competently critique. Then I had some who were just flakes and never got back to me after I critiqued their work. Then there were times when I flaked out. Not purposefully, but sometimes shit happens.

However, no matter how successful you are, there are those moments when you want someone to give you another perspective. So I hire one. Yep, I hire a CP.  Some benefits of hiring a critique partner:

• They never ever, ever need you to critique their chapter when you are on a heinous deadline
• In fact, you never ever, ever have to critique their writing, period.
• They love what they do and are generally quite good at it.
• They don’t want anything in return except a check.

Though I do have a relationship with my hired Cp’s, I don’t have friendships. No hurt feelings, no awkward emails. I send my stuff, they send it back all marked up, I send the check and  that’s the end of it.  I am free to take their advice or not. This doesn’t mean I won’t occasionally send something short to a friend to look over or critique something in return, but on the whole, hiring someone to do it for me works better for me now than a CP type of relationship could. It gives me peace of mind and that means I get more work done!

As my tweets and facebook status’ will attest, my life has been insane the past week. I took the week off of writing to start the process of remodeling the tiniest great room in America, i.e. my living room kitchen and dining room/office. I don’t know how many square feet this conjoined space is, but it is Lilliputian small, which is fine, the kids are on their way out the door and then my husband and I will have three bedrooms all to ourselves. Basically, it’s the starter home we never left and now we don’t have to get rid of half our belongings and downsize when we get old, so neener, neener, neener.

(Ahem)

Having never remodeled before I was unaware of the amount of chaos it engenders. I’ve learned it’s a lot like writing a novel and here are three reasons  why:

• I’m sure some people collaborate just fine during the rough draft of the novel/remodel but not me. I generally prefer to have input from an editor,(or my husband) after I’ve made all the major decisions.
• In remodeling, things have to be done in a certain order. I need the floor installed before the appliances are, the appliances have to be in before the countertops can be measured for the granite and I have to paint my cabinets before the granite is installed, etc. When I write a novel I have to have the concept firmly in place before I develop the characters, the characters before the major plot points and the major plot points before the black moment. Everything builds on the thing or event that comes before.
• Remodeling and writing a novel is HARD. You have to slog your way through. Yes, there are high points like picking the appliances or the colors, but most of it is banging your finger with a hammer, spilling paint on the floor or fighting with your husband. Writing a novel mostly consists of pulling words out of your brain with pliers, murdering that lovely scene that’s not working and arguing with your characters.

I have to return to writing and career on Monday even though we’re still at the beginning stages of the remodel. Someone has to pay for it. (Who knew that curtains were so expensive?)

 Before I get to Born of Deception, I wish to say that I’ve been blessed that the reviews for Born of Illusion have been  overwhelmingly positive. I’m always happy when people truly GET the book…even to those little nuances that I thought were just for me. And one little thing:  the mother daughter relationship in this book is very, very complex. It isn’t SUPPOSED to be a relationship of mutual happy support or the book would be SO MUCH LESS than what it is. There, with that said, I will get to the real post which is the cover copy for Born of Illusion and address an abiding rumor…

Budding illusionist Anna Van Housen is on top of the world: after scoring a spot on a prestigious European vaudeville tour, she has moved to London to chase her dream and to join an underground society for people like her with psychic abilities. Along with her handsome beau, Cole Archer, Anna is prepared to take the city by storm.

But when Anna arrives in London, she finds the group in turmoil. Sensitives are disappearing and, without a suspect, the group’s members are turning on one another. Could the kidnapper be someone within the society itself—or has the nefarious Dr. Boyle followed them to London?

As Cole and Anna begin to unravel the case and secrets about the society are revealed, they find themselves at odds, their plans for romance in London having vanished. Her life in danger and her relationship fizzling, can Anna find a way to track down the killer before he makes her his next victim—or will she have to pay the ultimate price for her powers?

Set in Jazz-Age London, this alluring sequel to Born of Illusion comes alive with sparkling romance, deadly intrigue, and daring magic.

I am SO excited about this book. It is MUCH, much darker than Born of Illusion, which was so much fun to write…

Now the rumor… When I queried Born of Illusion, my idea was to have each story  told from the view point of a different illegitimate daughter. Houdini first, Rasputin Second and then a prequel of Jack the Rippers daughter. When I sold the book, my editor loved Anna Van Housen so much that she wanted the second book told from Anna’s POV.  I agreed. So the second book doesn’t feature Rasputin, but Aleister Crowley and Harry Price are both in Born of Deception.  That would have been the end of it except that almost every single  review of BOI includes the Rasputin rumor!

I have the Rasputin book in my head and would love to do one with him soon. The reason the rumor got out? Somehow the original query that  I used in looking for a new agent ended up on Goodreads… I have NO idea how that happened.  I will keep everyone posted about the Rasputin book. Here are some pix of the next two gentlemen in the book…You can read more about these too men here and here.  Both are VERY HIGH ON THE CREEP FACTOR SCALE. They are part of the reason that Born of Deception is so much darker than Born of Illusion.

Last week, I decided that July Fourth would be my own personal Independence Day.  My last Fourth of July holiday was spent  sick and weak and undergoing brutal radiation treatments. It taught me a thing or two, just as cooking and gardening has taught me a thing or two. So this summer I’m declaring my freedom from the things that hold me back as a woman, a writer, a creative and a human being. I don’t believe that these things will just happen overnight but I hope to keep these resolves in my mind every damn day. So without further ado…

• I’m declaring my freedom from my inner editor who tells me I can’t write. I believe I’ve proven my merit as a writer, thank you very much, and the next time my inner editor raises her head, I’m going to bitch slap her.
• I’m declaring my freedom from my inner critic who tells me I’m not worthy, I don’t deserve this, I’m not creative enough, etc. Bullshit. I AM worthy, I do deserve this, I am creative! So bite me.
• I’m declaring my freedom from my inner Joan Rivers who bashes me every time I look in the mirror. Who is this woman and what is she doing in my head telling me everything that is wrong with the way I look? And at my age, why am I still listening to her? Off with her head!
• I am declaring my freedom from the guilt I feel over my past failures. Failures teach so I need to learn the lesson, forgive myself, ask forgiveness from others if need be and MOVE ON. No more laying in bed at night, my cheeks burning as Ms. Mcshamey Pants recounts everything I have done wrong since I was three. I have the power to make her disappear and disappear she will!

There, I hold those truths to be self evident and all that. It’s time for an inner revolution. I have too much to accomplish and too much living to do to allow that cast of sadistic characters to rob me of my enjoyment of life and the satisfaction of attaining my goals.

It’s been hot here, people, very, very hot.

Actually, I feel a bit ridiculous even saying that because our high nineties heat can’t compare to Vegas, (117? Really?), but I live in the Pacific Northwest. We may not melt in the rain, but we sure as hell do in the heat.  At least those of us who live on the west side of the Cascades do.

I haven’t been blogging lately because I have been busy doing all the things I love to do in the summer…gardening, cooking, yard work, traveling and writing.  I work in my yard about 20 hours a week and am still so far behind it isn’t even funny. We have three short months to get all the outside projects done, plus those inside projects that require ventilation such as painting or stripping and refinishing old furniture.  Three months is not nearly enough time.

But I am seeing the fruits of my labor. My backyard is lovely and we have eaten garden produce several times.  I feel so accomplished!  And look at what I found! Refinishing this little goodwill find (ten bucks!) is one of my summer projects  along with painting a park bench, painting my living room and kitchen and putting in a new kitchen bar area.

As far as writing projects…there are things things happening behind the scenes that I can’t share yet and I am currently way behind on a secret project. Other projects have had to be scrapped because of lack of time, and still others have risen to take their place. I just need to find more hours in the day… if anyone has figured that out yet, let me know, okay???

A friend of mine was touring my yard the other day, which basically means he stepped into my house and I locked his hand in a manacle worthy grip and forced him out back to look at my garden. This happens a lot nowadays. Even the mailman and the delivery guys look at the house nervously, afraid I’ll trap them in a conversations about how to get your azaleas to turn ice blue or the benefits of fresh beets. But my friend said something that got me to thinking… “Many artists become enamored with their gardens.”

This gardening obsession isn’t completely new. Ever since my husband and I have bought this home, I’ve worked in the yard, some years more intensively than others. Which means one season I’ll put in a rose garden while others, I barely remember to mow. Consistent I’m not.

This year, I’ve stepped off the cliff into the abyss of weeding, clipping, hoeing and planting insanity. I’ve moved some plants so many times, they think we’re playing musical garden. I’ve planted vegetables I’ve never even heard of for god’s sake, let alone know if I actually like them. (WTF is a kolrabi? I have no clue but it’s growing lush and happy in my brand spanking new veggie garden.)

Part of the reason is that my son is getting married this summer and I’m having the rehearsal dinner in my back yard. Things that have been put off must now be done. Another reason for my crazed flora and fauna fixation is that I’m a rabid Pacific Northwesterner and we like to eat shit out of our backyards– preferably in plaid, drinking our designer coffee and micro-brewed beer, our tats glimmering in the weak sun peeping out behind the clouds.

But I also think that part of it has to do with the increased level of creativity in my work.

Looking back, I see that the years where I worked in the garden most feverishly were the years where I wrote the most.  More writing, more gardening. This year, I have been writing at an insane pace and my gardening time increased exponentially.

I made the correlation, (do I get a gold star) but what does it mean?

I’ll explore that in my next blog. For now I will leave you with some before and after pictures of my garden! (You knew that was coming right??)

PS

Before

So I was totally going to do a blog on my first experience canning jam, but I had to can that for something else cause I lost the pix. (You notice that pun? Har.)

So as I navigate this week’s incredible highs, I decided to reflect on the ups and downs of the publishing journey. Enjoy!

High: Publishing your first novel!

Low: Waiting five years to sell another one.

High: Getting an agent!

Low: Realizing that you and that agent are not compatible.

High: Getting a fabulous review from someone who really gets the book!

Low: Getting a review from someone who completely missed the entire point.

High: Book launch!

Low: Post book launch collapse.

High: Feeling the writing flow from your finger tips from a magic never-ending well of creativity!

Low: Pulling words out of your brain one at a time and knowing that it would be easier to yank your teeth out with a pair of pliers.

High: Scoring a great promotional opportunity!

Low: Realizing that opportunity did absolutely nothing for your numbers.

High: Having a movie executive call you after a particularly productive meeting!

Low: Having nothing come from the meeting.

High: Getting the CALL!

Low: Months and months of crickets.

High: Getting an invite to a swanky  publishing cocktail party!

Low: Realizing that no one really wants to talk to you and having to go to the bathroom to check if your pits stink. (Oh, no one has ever had them happen to them? Me either. I just said that because… it happened to a friend of mine once.)

What are your publishing highs and lows?

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Break out the wine! @teribrownwrites dishes on publishing’s highs and lows! (Click to Tweet)

Publishing High: Getting the CALL! Publishing Low: Months and months of crickets. @teribrownwrites publishing highs and lows! (Click to Tweet)

GO FORTH AND PURCHASE!