While I researched Greek mythology for The Duende and the Muse, I came across some interesting info about Dionysus, God of the Vine - and his followers, the Maenads. Dionysus was madly in love with his mortal wife, Ariadne. One of the few gods to remain faithful to any woman, he mourned her for eternity. In ancient times, Dionysus became a master marketer to push his product: wine. He enticed people to drink by any means, and could be either friend or foe to humans. Sometimes both. The Maenads worshipped Dionysus, but also lived in complete freedom. They slept beneath the stars, sang and danced in the forests. And, oh yeah, ripped to shreds animals or humans they happened upon, and feasted on their flesh. As an immortal, Dionysus would, theoretically, still be in existence today. Still promoting his product. And still yearning for Ariadne. Or someone very like her...
We all have moments when a scene isn't working or the next plot twist isn't moving the story like we wanted it to. So we push away from the keyboard and think. I for one can't do that while sitting in my computer chair staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. I turn to other things. I have a few hobbies that lend themselves to letting my imagination run wildly about while still accomplishing something. Crocheting is a favorite. I can count, change colors, do multiple stitches without giving it one bit of my conscious attention. Jigsaw puzzles are probably my favorite mindless activity. I have a like-minded sister who lives out of state. For over twenty years we buy each other a jigsaw puzzle for our birthdays. We try to stump each other with an impossible puzzle. We're both very good and haven't managed to defeat each other yet. Even while doing the most difficult, challenging puzzle, I can plan the next scene, the next dialogue and still complete that lovely puzzle. Mowing the grass at our house takes at least one and a half hours. Riding the lawn tractor is truely a time given to thought. Driving a car is a similar time for reflection but I have to take more care. Yes, last night I drove right past my daughter's hockey field while thinking of the dire situation my protagonists were involved in. I wonder how other writers let their imagination free. What do they do when they're just stuck? Not with writer's block, but with a simple plot point.
Summer Lovin' is now available for purchase in print at Barnes & Noble and Amazon(no cover picture there yet, unfortunately).
It wasn't supposed to be out until July 10, so I'm excited! My author copies are winging their way to me now. To celebrate, I'm posting an excerpt and will give away a copy of the e-book to one lucky person who comments either here or at my blog.
Do you remember your first love? Your first kiss? Drop by and tell us about it.
BLURB:
SUMMER LOVIN’ is a collection of love stories by authors Dara Edmondson, Laurie J. Edwards, Mona Ingram, Kimberlee R. Mendoza, Sydney Shay, and June Sproat about life on a ranch, summer jobs, sandcastle competitions, the tragedy of a flood, and falling in love with a rock star.
My story in the anthology is “Summer Storms”: Sixteen-year-old Paige nearly drowns as she rescues a Pomeranian trapped in floodwaters that sweep through her town. Chase, the hottie who saves her, wants to help her and her mother, but Paige won’t accept charity. And can she risk him unmasking the family secret she’s kept hidden?
EXCERPT (Paige and her mother try to escape the flood sweeping through town. Waves have just smashed the branches of an uprooted tree through their window):
Picking her way over the broken glass, Paige lunged for the tree. Icy water soaked her sneakers and jeans. The suitcase banged against the trunk and almost slid from her grasp. Her fingers raked down the rough bark, tearing her palms. The tree bobbed up and down as water assaulted it.
Paige climbed on and wrapped one arm around an upright branch. Staying seated was like riding a bucking bronco. She wedged the suitcase between two branches and then leaned forward to extend a hand to Mama, who was scrambling for balance.
As she got Mama situated, another wave rocked the tree. The suitcase slid. Before Paige could grab it, it plunged into the water below. What had they lost? Her mind was a blur. But Mama was safe. That was the important thing.
She wrested the other suitcase from Mama’s grip and slid the handle over an upright tree branch. Mama clung to another branch as the tree shuddered. As long as the tree didn’t roll, they could float to safety. She hoped.
Wood cracked and splintered. Only a bit more and the branch would break free. Then they’d be at the mercy of the river.
A tiny yip caused Paige to turn. A Pomeranian paddled furiously in the sludge between their house and the one next door. Its fur slicked tight to its head, the dog panted as it struggled to keep its head above water. The tree had dammed the floodwaters between the buildings, but once the dog reached the rushing water, it would be doomed.
Paige clutched the branch with one hand and leaned back until her muscles screamed in agony. The dog struggled closer, but she couldn’t reach it. She gripped the trunk between her legs and let go of the branch. Still, the gap was too great.
Mama screamed, “No, Paige, no!”
But Paige ignored her. She inched backward and reached for the dog. With a great rending sound, the branch holding the tree in place tore free of its mooring. And with a sucking sound, the tree shot into the raging current.
Want to find out what happens next? Pick up a copy of Summer Lovin’. “Summer Storms” is only one of six stories in the anthology. All the stories in the anthology are different, so I’m sure you’ll find one you just love.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Hi Everyone: Sorry I've been absent but I've been on the road a lot. I followed with interest the discussion on the covers. My own thought is that each author should be responsible for what they put on the site. It continues to be busy. I'll be at the Barnes and Noble in Lancaster from noon to 2 pm tomorrow and then on to the Barnes and Noble in Philadelphia tomorrow night from 7 - 9 pm. George: I hope to see you in Lancaster. Anyone else? The month of July I'll be doing a number of signing at the Jersey shore. July 3rd in Avalon, July 16th near Atlantic City, July 18th in Sea Isle City, then July 30th in Ocean City. I'll be at Thrillerfest in New York from July 8 - 11. So, if I.m AWOL, it's not because I'm not following what you're talking about. I love the discussion and am impressed with all of the work ongoing. Hope to see some of you at the Camp Hill Barnes and Noble next Wednesday. Don
Over a year ago, Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell signed the Right-to-Know bill into law. On January 1, 2009, all levels of Pennsylvania government must now make its records open to the public. The new law includes a presumption that records are open. For the first time in Pennsylvania’s history, a citizen no longer must prove that a record is public and that it should be released. Now, a Pennsylvania government agency must presume that its records are public and make them available for inspection or copying. If the government agency chooses to withhold a record, the agency has the burden to prove – with legal citation – why that record should not be available to the public. Of course, some records are not open, such as criminal investigation reports or complete personnel records.
"The Mission of the Office of Open Records is to enforce the state’s Right-to-Know law and to serve as a resource for citizens, public officials and members of the media in obtaining public records of their government."
The new law is not just for state government, but also for county, and municipal agencies. Even volunteer fire companies must comply.
Getting information from local government officials has sometimes been difficult, if not impossible, in the past. As a working correspondent for a newspaper, some local officials would do everything they could to prevent the flow of public information. Some things I remember fighting to get included the salaries of school administrators. This is clearly public information: the salaries are paid by taxpayers, and they certainly have a right to know what the salary is that they are paying. Hopefully, the new Right to Know law will make this kind of information more readily available here in Pennsylvania.
I have never been a very good judge of how long it actually takes to do something. Perhaps I'm too much of an optimist, or not enough of a realist, but I rarely expect things to take as long as they do.
I have particular difficulty when it comes to my writing projects. Chapters always take longer to write than I think they will, outlines never seem to come together neatly and revisions - well, they take on a life of their own.
Actually, when it comes to revisions, I blame my writer friends, whose critiques are so thorough and so dead on that I can't just ignore them. I have to tackle the changes head on, and one change leads to another...and another...and before I know it, I've exceeded my allotted time. Again.
Such was my week last week. By Saturday, I was still working on polishing an outline and sample chapter that I had expected to launch into cyberspace by the middle of the week. And so I started out on Saturday by checking my e-mail, writing a blog... exercises in procrastination disguised as doing something that needed to be done, because looking at those pages again, however necessary, seemed overwhelming. The pages had already taken so much longer than I'd expected that I hesitated to approach them again, fearful of the time they'd devour.
As it turns out, they did devour a substantial chunk of time...and then they were finished. Yesterday, I sent them to my agent hoping that first she, and then an editor or two will be willing to spend their time on them.
After the fact, I am always glad I spent the time. I just wish I knew how much time to allot in the first place.
Last year I arranged a booksigning at an independent bookseller a good distance from my home. There aren't many independents left in my part of the world. Those that are about are struggling to compete with the big chain stores. For someone like me, those hard-fighting independents are my best bet for getting a booksigning. Because my small ebook publisher doesn't take returns, the big stores won't order my books. The small bookstore where I had my signing ordered my books and I agreed to take extras off his hands if we didn't sell many. Well, we didn't. The number sold was slightly more than zero, but it certainly didn't pay for my gas. He admitted his store did the majority of its business selling children's books and he sold few romances. I wish I had know before I prepared a prize basket and a brief talk on writing romance. But I can't fault him. I fear the independent bookseller will go the way of the small hardware stores with their wonderful smells and hard word floors. The small bookstore's peaceful quiet with no piped in music will drift quietly into the night. They don't have aisles of the latest CDs and DVDs or rows of magazines and they can't stalk the midlist books while still having room for the latest bestsellers. If there is an independent bookseller near you, stop in and support them if you can. They may not have a gourmet coffee shop with overpriced deserts and college students with their laptops out, but they will have a friendly educated staff and owner grateful for your patronage. Every person who works in those little stores will love books as much as we do. Support your independents.
There is an interesting little news story about Scribd in the Courant. Scribd is new online store that offers online texts. While the entire article is worth reading, this paragraph caught my eye:
Simon & Schuster is the first big New York publisher to makes its titles available on Scribd, which started its store last month. Publishers have complained of numerous pirated texts showing up on Scribd, but officials for both Scribd and Simon & Schuster say that Scribd has worked hard to improve its anti-piracy measures and that having the authorized editions in its database will make it easier to track illegal versions.
I think this is a major story, especially for writers. When a large publisher - one of the THE largest - with authors like Stephen King -embrace the technology, things are going to change in the publishing industry.
The Digital Rights Management (DRM) is crucial. No author, writer, or publisher is going to agree to any system where the DRM does not protect the copyrighted word. Anyone could write a manuscript, claim copyright, create a PDF file, and place the document for sale on a Web site. However, such a business model would allow one sale, and the rapid distribution and duplication - although illegal - of the document. But now that the DRM appears to be in place, and as major publishers jump on board, watch this new form of distribution of a writer's work flourish.
I'm leaving tomorrow for Italy, and in the throes of washing clothes, packing, and making sure our Westie doesn't notice the suitcases, I think about the daily writing responsibilities I'll leave behind. The deadlines, the calls to editors, the interviews will have to wait until my return. But I did one thing I haven't done in years. I purchased a journal. I promised myself I would record every sight, every thought, every character I meet along the piazzas and alleys of the ancient towns we'll be visiting.
I always tell my workshop students the value of keeping a journal. It's not only semi-therapy, but it keeps you writing, improves your skills, and gives you fodder for stories. Well, "Do as I say, not as I do." But this time I'm taking my own advice. When you immerse yourself in your surroundings, your stories become richer and more vibrant. The characters jump off the page because you've met them in another form, up close, with lines on their faces and smiles on their lips.
I looked at my journal's cover last night, then flipped through the empty lined sheets. "Can't wait to fill you up," I whispered. I'm going to keep that promise.
Dionysus was madly in love with his mortal wife, Ariadne. One of the few gods to remain faithful to any woman, he mourned her for eternity. 
