Tag Archives: novels

Just the next step

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The local author “cove” of my bookstore, The Next Chapter Books & Art. Yes, my books are on the shelf!

“I guess I should have expected it,” my husband teased when I said I wanted to take over the local bookstore. “I mean, first you’re a published author, then you start self-publishing, and now you want to own a bookstore.”

I laughed. But really, is he totally wrong?

I want to sell my books.

I told a fellow author who stopped by the store to wish me well that the other day. “I want to sell books. My books, your books, whatever.” And it’s true. That’s what I want to do as a bookstore. Highlight and sell local authors’ books. Because there’s a surprising number of us here in my little town who can spin a pretty good yarn.

My friend, who has several books at the store himself, smiled. “True. But you want to sell your books most. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

And he’s right, too. I do want to sell my books. Most. So I’m owning it. It occurred to me when I heard that the bookstore was going to close if someone didn’t take over that my books wouldn’t have a spot on a bookstore shelf anymore. I’d have to go looking for more stores willing to take them on.

As I don’t like beating the pavement, maybe it was just easier to take on a bookstore and learn to be a small business owner and pay bills and create a marketing plan and write press releases and be a grownup?

Maybe there’s something slippery about that slope, but it does seem to be working, and I can’t deny taking over this bookstore has been one of the best things I’ve ever done. I look forward to going in to work every day, I work on bookstore ideas at night, the store is my favorite subject—when I started considering setting a picture of the store as my background on my phone, I had to admit, I might be in love.

Everyday it seems a little stronger,

Everyday it lasts a little longer.

Come what may, do you ever long for

True love from me?

—James Taylor, Everyday

So I guess it’s okay if I’ve taken another step along the road of self-publishing. Yeah, I want my books on the shelf, not just here but in bookstores everywhere, but until that happens and as long as the only reason I’m here is not to sell my books only (just most), I’ll do my damnedest to keep this beautiful store open and selling all the books, including mine.

The author and the bookstore

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Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved reading. She loved reading more than anything else. She would wake, pick up a book and start reading. She read as she ate, as she brushed her teeth, as she walked… She even found a way to prop her book up on the bedside table so she could read while she dressed.

Eventually, reading wasn’t enough, so the girl began to write the words she loved. Slowly, she came to the point where she was writing instead of reading. Maybe not as constantly because somewhere in there she’d grown up and had more responsibilities. Kids must be fed and cared for, house must be cleaned, laundry laundered, jobs attended to. Still, she found as much time as possible for writing. She even wrote several novels and that’s how the girl became the author.

The author found a little bookstore—a friendly, charming place that welcomed local authors and sold their books for them. The owner of the bookstore was a lovely lady who enjoyed meeting new people and liked selling their books for them. But eventually the lady wanted to retire. She told the author the store would have to close, but the author was very sad about that. “Oh, you can’t do that!” She thought of all the books in the store that would no longer have a place on a shelf in a warm, cozy bookstore. Including her books.

“I wish I could keep doing this forever,” the owner said, “but it’s just time for me to let go. Of course, if I could find someone to take over for me, that person could keep the bookstore open. Would you be interested?”

The author had never considered such a thing. She wasn’t a businesswoman. She was a mother, a wife, a reader, a writer. She had two dogs and two cats to take care of. She had carpools and volunteer work and housework and laundry. Being a bookstore owner wasn’t something she could do.

But maybe it was.

And so the author took over the bookstore and found she loved it. The bookstore was even more charming and peaceful when she went into it every day. It slowly became hers, and she felt as if “work” was not a chore there. “Work” was love, and the bookstore gave it freely to its new owner, the author.

Author’s Note: All this is to say that I am the proud new owner of a bookstore that I really do love. The Next Chapter Books and Art in New Bern, N.C. It happened very suddenly and much as I wrote above. I’m still in the transition stage with limited hours while I get my kids used to me not being the stay-at-home writer/mom that I’ve always been, but come in and feel the good vibes there. The positive energy that soaks the place is worth the trip.

Like The Next Chapter here:                https://www.facebook.com/TheNextChapterBooksNB/

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What is Utopia?

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As a writer, I get to imagine things all the time, but one thing for me has always been sort of amorphous. What, exactly, would Utopia be like? I can imagine a place with green fields where everyone does their fair share, but eventually I start seeing flaws in the system. For instance, I don’t like working outdoors, I tend to kill plants, and I hate bugs. Would I be expected to help grow crops the same way my brother, who has a green thumb, would? And as a librarian, I wonder, would people who don’t care about books be expected to help me take care of them? How can you be a caretaker for something you have no care for? Who’s making all these rules, anyway?

Usually, I end up deciding I’d rather just retreat onto a mountaintop or desert island with the people I love most and have supplies air dropped to me. But what kind of liberal does that make me if I can’t even picture a Utopia that works?

Today I read this wonderful opinion column by Ross Douthat in the New York Times called Watership Down and the Crisis of Liberalism and I practically clapped my hands. If you’ve never read Watership Down, the classic tale by Richard Adams, you must. Go get a copy. I’ll wait. Okay, maybe not, because it is like 500 pages long, but Watership Down was a masterpiece, and Douthat hits the nail on the head with what makes a true Utopia and how Adams created one with this sentence:

And what makes the regime the rabbits are founding good — and successful, but first and foremost good — is the integration of the different virtues, the cooperation of their different embodiments, their willing subordination to one another as circumstances require.

Bam. Right there. Each rabbit that embarks on the quest to found a new home after they lost their old home to ecoterrorism (a subdivision) has a unique skill that they offer to the group. The leader, the strong, the religiously gifted, the athletic, the intelligent, the creative—all have something to offer the group.

So that’s what Utopia is to me. It’s a world in which we all have our unique gifts and they’re all valued. Imagine a world where you could find your gift and pursue it and contribute to the world in your own way. If a teacher’s offering of education, a doctor’s offering of healing, a policeman’s offering of safety, a politician’s offering of governing, a writer’s offering of…whatever we offer—it was all valued. Every skill, from acting to playing a sport or inventing, all the way to trash collecting and housecleaning.

Isn’t that what we all want? A world we can live in without fear of someone taking what is ours? Our job, our belongings, our happiness. In a world where everyone already had theirs, maybe that wouldn’t be such a problem. To me, that is Utopia.

(Side note: The only other place I’ve ever seen a Utopia that looks like it could work is Starfleet in the Star Trek universe.)

But what is Utopia to you? In our highly divided culture today, maybe this isn’t what everyone wants. Utopian dreams come to us all, though. I’d love to hear yours.

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Utopian perfection? Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Mumfest weekend!

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Just a quick note here to let you know I’ll be at Mumfest this year, representing both Michelle Garren Flye and my alter ego Shelley Gee, who you might know as the writer of charming children’s mysteries. I will have copies of all my books, including my poetry booklet, which is in limited release (meaning you either have to go to The Next Chapter Books & Art or find me to purchase a copy). I’ve cut the prices for Mumfest weekend if you buy directly from me, so it’s a great time to stock up on good books! I hope to meet some of you at Mumfest. I’ll be in the purple tent on Middle Street with my friend Noel of Blissworks. It’s hard to miss! Noel’s artwork is fantastic!

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Mumfest 2018

Happy Friday the 13th: A dog, a backlist and computer woes

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This Friday the 13th I’m counting my blessings.

I’m fortunate that I have a dog that I love dearly.

I’m fortunate that I have a backlist with 13 novels that I can offer for free on Smashwords Summer Sale (coupon code SS100).

I’m fortunate that I have an iPad. It gives me something to work on while I’m waiting for a replacement power cord for my MacBook Pro that my dog chewed. That severely limits my productivity. It’s very difficult to upload a manuscript from an iPad to Smashwords. Most of my files are in Dropbox, fortunately, so I can access them, but it’s not what I’m used to. So I managed to upload Ducks in a Row, but yesterday I contented myself with thoroughly proofreading Saturday Love, thinking any minute UPS would arrive with the computer cord replacement I’d paid extra to have delivered overnight. 

They didn’t come.

I checked the tracking last night. My cord never made it past the UPS facility 30 miles away. It said something about the house number being incorrect, which is, of course, bull, since I’ve had plenty of things delivered from Apple with no problem. And they always use the same address. UPS, you’ve now taken the place of my dog in this screwed up saga of my week. Which is probably a good thing.

I still love her.

 

romance, dog, love

Can you blame me?

 
So, anyway, look for Saturday Love to be online (without the two typos I found) later today, hopefully. In the meantime, you can obtain every book in my armada in the electronic format of your choice on Smashwords for $2.99. (That’s for Becoming Magic, which I just published, so you know…) That’s fourteen books once I get Saturday Love done. Come on, that’s pretty good. Go. Download. 

And if you have a dog, keep an eye on your computer cord!

Take the Plunge: See beyond the stigma of “self-published”

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man standing on brown rock cliff in front of waterfalls photography

How to convince a reader to take that leap of faith into your book? Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com

I get it. I’m old enough to remember vanity presses. I remember the indie-publishing phenomenon of The Christmas Box. Remember how quickly indie publishing grew after Richard Paul Evans’s little treasure was discovered by mainstream publishing? Vanity presses became independent presses and developed into KDP and Smashwords, providing a voice for authors who either can’t make it through the gatekeepers of traditional presses or, like me (I like to think, anyway), lost patience with the hoops you must jump through.

I’ve had three books published by two different traditional publishers. In all three cases, I enjoyed the experience of having professional cover designers, editors and book designers. It was invigorating working on a deadline. But at both publishers, my editors eventually left, putting me back at square one of trying to sell my book to another editor.

I’d rather sell it to you, my readers. But finding you is another process. Gaining your faith is yet another. I’ve been doing this for eight years now. My first book, Secrets of the Lotus, was published by Lyrical Press (now the digital first arm of Kensington Press) on July 5, 2010. I started this blog around then, too. Eight years, fourteen books, and countless blog posts later, I’ve got a few devoted readers. They’re the ones who’ll take the plunge no matter what I put out.

So I better make it good.

I think I’ve managed to improve both my writing and my publishing skills. I edit my own work now, but I have worked with enough professional editors so I have pretty good idea of how to find the holes in my own plots. I put all my manuscripts through a thorough proofreading at least twice by me and I have some beta readers who’ll look over drafts for me, too. I’ve learned a lot about the formatting of both ebooks and print. My self-published books look good now. Clean and pretty with clearly delineated breaks and chapters. And my covers are almost always professionally designed.

Now, I’m working on the marketing. That’s the really tough part. That’s the final push every author—traditional or self—must somehow summon to convince a reader that their book is worth reading. That’s why we query book reviewers and write blogs, why we spend hours writing guest posts for online book tours and tend to all our social media sites from Facebook and Twitter to Instagram and Goodreads.

It’s all to push you, dear reader, over the edge of a cliff and into the world of our writing.

Go ahead. Jump. If you don’t, you might miss out on the next self-publishing phenomenon.

 

Thoughts and Reviews

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I do a lot of thinking. Some might say too much. I’ve been thinking a lot recently in light of the Time’s Up movement in Hollywood and around the nation about how my genre of writing needs to evolve—if at all.

I’m a romantic who’s been blessed in the love and family department. It’s not always easy to see life from the viewpoint of the victimized when you live in a safe bubble. I’ve never really needed to be feminist, though I’ve had my own small #metoo moments. Still, I’ve been wondering…how do I as a romance writer make this situation better? How can I write about the flirtation and romance between men and women when so much negativity is associated with such flirtation and romance crossing a line into something much darker?

I’ve always tried to write strong female characters and caring male characters, but I’ve never considered how their romantic interactions could read to someone who has been victimized. Consider the pirate scene in Movie Magic, for instance. Or the scene in Secrets of the Lotus where the rich guy just chooses a woman at random to kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve. In Winter Solstice, the two main characters are co-workers. Island Magic is basically about a kidnapping—a good-natured and necessary one, but still. In almost every one of my books, looking back, there is something that might be frowned upon by a feminist or trigger a victim. The only one of my books with a real feminist as a heroine is Escape Magic, which I wrote in response to my disgust over 50 Shades of Grey.

I haven’t solved this romance/feminism quandary, by the way. I’m keeping it in mind in my writing, however, so it’s most likely going to show up eventually.

On to better news. Today, in spite of its possible problematic elements, Movie Magic received TWO great reviews. See below for details and stop by to give my reviewers some love and for your last chance to enter to win a $50 Amazon gift card:

“A sudden storm brings the characters together, and very much like the Shakespearean play, “The Tempest”, the characters are introduced and the story unfolds against a background of nature, the elements, and magic. Movie Magic is a charming romance!” —Jennifer Macaire

“…for the most part I really did enjoy Mrs. Flye’s writing style as she was superior on detail.  She carefully thought-out certain passages that when I read them I wasn’t reading them – I was seeing them!  Perhaps like my own little movie magic occurring!” —Fabulous and Brunette

How I spent November and what NaNoWriMo means

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NaNo-2017-Winner-BadgeYes, you can tell a lot from a picture. This particular one is not worth a mere thousand words, though. It’s worth 50,000. And yes, it means I did indeed “win” National Novel Writing Month.

What does that mean? It means I spent a month learning, again, how to refocus whatever writing talent I actually do possess into a businesslike attitude. I did not allow life to get in the way of my writing for a change. I wrote, consistently, almost every single day of November. (I did skip one day due to being sick.) And almost every one of those days, I wrote more than I actually wanted to.

It means a lot to me this month in particular. I didn’t know if I would make it through this National Novel Writing Month. If I had known at the beginning of the month what would be happening throughout the month, I might not have begun. But I did begin. And in spite of everything, I finished. I won.

But what do you win at the end of NaNoWriMo? Fifty thousand words are not $50,000. Do you at least have a complete novel, ready to send out to publishers? No. I always end up with what I consider to be a sort of fleshed out outline of a novel that is probably lacking between ten and twenty thousand words. The story and plot and characters are there, but some of the connections and scenes are not. Heavy editing and rewriting are required to turn such an outline into an actual book. So what’s the point? Why give up daily workouts, binge-watching Netflix, and going to bed at regular hours?

It’s not just for the accomplishment, though writing 50,000 words is an accomplishment. It’s not to have a completed product at the end of the month. As I’ve said, it’ll be another year or more before this novel is ready for public consumption. As a matter of fact, tomorrow I get to work on editing last year’s NaNo.

To me, what National Novel Writing Month really is is a renewal. It’s a pilgrimage back into the writing world, a sort of training session that will help me stay on track for the next year. Finishing the 50,000 word goal—and recognizing that it is not yet a book—remind me of what I really am. A writer.

What the heck is “Saturday Love”?

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Saturday Love Cover

It’s been asked. What the heck do I mean by “Saturday Love”? Is it a once a week thing? A one-night stand? If so, why did I choose that for the title of the sequel to Ducks in a Row? This is, after all, the book that follows the further adventures of Will Hubbard, the man many people was done totally wrong by Cady Summers in Ducks. We want him to have a happy ending, don’t we? So why not call his book “24/7 Love”?

Well, in addition to not sounding like a 24-hour gas station, Saturday love is a feeling that refers to more than a time period. It’s forever love. The kind of love that lets you rest, safe in the knowledge that you’ve reached the prize you were aspiring to. It’s the kind of love that lasts fifty, seventy-five, even a hundred years if it’s called on to do so. And even if there are hard times and difficult passages, Saturday love is still there.

Saturday Love, the sequel to Ducks in a Row, will be published January 1. As you can tell by the cover above, it’s in the final editing stages right now. I’m cleaning up the final typos in my last thorough read-through. So you’ve still got time to get up to speed if you haven’t read Ducks. Plus, Ducks in a Row, the novel that has been called “thought-provoking”, “unsettling”, “wonderfully beautiful” and “painful”, is currently only 99 cents for your Kindle on Amazon!

In the meantime, here’s a bit of Will’s introduction to “Saturday Love”:

“Being in love with Stephanie is awesome.” Patrick looked out at the vineyard for a second, thinking. “It’s kind of like Saturday morning when you’re a kid. Remember those?”

“I’m not sure I get what you mean.” Will shook his head.

“Remember how it felt to wake up on a Saturday morning and know there wasn’t anything you had to do? You’d slept late, and maybe you had a few chores around here, but other than that, most of the day was yours. It’s kind of like that with Stephanie. It’s like I spent my whole life working and waiting and looking for her, and now it’s Saturday and I don’t have to do that anymore.”

Will felt a slight hitch in his chest at his brother’s words. He wanted that and he suspected he could find it with Accalia. He’d seen that kind of Saturday love: between his mother and father, now with Patrick and Stephanie. And even, if he admitted it, between Cady and Neil. He reached over and grasped his brother’s shoulder. “Thanks. I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Yeah, me too.” Patrick stood and stretched. He looked down at Will. “I’m happy for you, too, you know. You know why?”

Will shook his head.

“Because even if you haven’t found it yet with Accalia, you’re getting there. You haven’t asked me even once about Cady.”

Patrick went back inside, but Will remained where he was. His chest felt strangely hollow. Strange, because it wasn’t a totally unpleasant feeling. It felt clean, not empty, and he knew why. Whether Accalia was his Saturday love or not, he’d finally faced the fact that Cady wasn’t.

Living the Alternative Write-Style

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Yes, that’s right. Me. Joe Romance Novelist. I live an alternative write-style.

You never would have guessed? Or you have no idea what I’m talking about?

Well, here it is. I take writing very seriously. I identify myself as a writer, an author, a storyteller, a book-maker. Hell, last year when I filled out my taxes, I put “writer” in as my profession. It is, and someday I even hope to make a living at it.

But I can’t swear I write forty hours a week or two thousand words a day or whatever is considered the going rate for a working writer. And I’m starting to accept that I don’t have to.

Last night I stayed up late because I hadn’t written all day. Well, nothing but tweets, and I just can’t count those. I have two works-in-progress ongoing right now, a vague outline of a romance featuring a sexy male librarian hero, and a complete novel waiting for my edits. I’ve got plenty to do, ideas percolating in my brain at all hours. If I had my way, I’d be indulging in a write fest nine to five every day.

Ah, but there’s a rub. I also have three kids getting ready to start school, a puppy who insists on being walked every hour and a half, a hard-working husband who deserves to be fed at some point after he comes home from work, and a house that hasn’t been completely clean since summer started…or possibly since we moved in.

This is where the alternative write-style comes in. Over the summer I’ve given up on set writing time. I’ve made the decision that I will write when I can. Like last night. I stayed up thirty minutes later than I should have and wrote a grand total of about four hundred words. And you know what I saw when I gazed blearily at my computer screen at 12:30 a.m.? I saw the one thing that I needed to see.

Progress.

(For some reason, that little song Dory from “Finding Nemo” sang keeps running through my head: “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…”)

If you have to live an alternative write-style, don’t worry. You may not hit the two thousand prescribed words a day a serious writer is supposed to write. The question is, would you like to? If you could get someone else to do your grocery shopping and kid carting and day job for you, would you sit down and write until you hit two thousand words a day? If the answer is yes, then you’re a writer.

However, if you’d rather be rock-climbing or skydiving or playing Minecraft all day (I mean, hell, if you’ve got someone working your day job for you, who can blame you?), then you might be more of a hobbyist writer. Nothing wrong with it, but you probably shouldn’t call yourself a writer on your income taxes.

In the meantime, writers, here’s the one bit of advice I really feel like I can give you: Whatever you do, just keep swimming…