 Sunday, September 30, 2007 Boji Stones  Monitors beeped and clear liquid dripped through an IV into her arm. Her entire body throbbed in pain. She looked around, confused and afraid, nauseated by the smell of alcohol and antiseptic. Where am I? What happened? The last thing she remembered was a man with the face of an angel and what must be the heart of a demon, swerving his car against hers, his expression determined, fanatical. He was after the amulet! She looked down at her bare left arm. Oh my God, where was it? The door opened and a stout black nurse sailed in, much like a majestic ship breasting the water, her white uniform so crisp it rustled as she walked. “And how are we feeling, Miss Sinclair?” Like every bone in my body is broken, that’s how WE are feeling. “Like I’ve been in a car wreck. Can you tell where my amulet’s at?” The nurse stopped. “Say what?” “My bracelet. Please where is it?” The nurse checked the monitor. “Probably in your bedside table.” The table sat on the left side of the bed. Maureen Kelly Sinclair looked at her bandaged left arm, her left leg in a sling and then at the table. Pushing back the hysteria welling in her throat, she asked as calmly as she could. “Would you check please?” “Just as soon as I change your IV.” “Screw…” The nurse looked up, her eyes narrowing. Maureen snapped her teeth shut, her jaws working. She took a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing one vertebra at a time. As the nurse puttered with the IV, Maureen’s mind raced. Who besides herself knew about the amulet? “The police were here while you were sleeping. They’ll be back later to get your statement.” Maureen rubbed her aching temple. “I thought I already gave them a statement.” “You were pretty hysterical at the time. Understandable.” The nurse clucked and shook her head. “What’s this world coming to when a madman runs you off the road? Lucky for you there was an unmarked car directly behind you.” “My amulet, please.” Her chest tightened and her nerves screamed. “Sure, hon, I’m almost done.” She straightened the bag, walked around to the table and opened the drawer. “It’s not here.” Labels: magic amulets, paranormal romance 
Friday, September 28, 2007  It’s here! It finally arrived! It’s bright cover beaming at me from Cerridwen Press’ new e-book page and I have this fear. What if no one likes my baby? Because for almost four solid years that’s exactly what I thought of Rapture, my first romance book I ever wrote. To give you a brief outline oaf how it came to be I’m taking you back in time to my life, my thoughts and my writing process.Four years ago I was writing as a freelancer, covering a lot of community news for a local paper and writing a column for The Daily News, one of Halifax’s leading newspapers. I remember stumbling upon an article that talked about undersea wrecks and that got my mind spinning. That same day I stumbled across a book about Gods and Goddess and that was it. A kernel of an idea germinated and from that I formed Rapture. I wanted to incorporate something of the sea with modern day life, so the setting is modern but strong paranormal elements bind the entire story together. At the time I was pregnant (after a year of trying, we finally conceived baby number four) and that was a big factor when I wrote about Jamie. I wanted my heroine to be a modern, hard-working, no-nonsense woman who was learning about her femininity, the sensual side of being a woman and then whammo, she gets pregnant. The scare of her life. And for me one of my scariest pregnancies as our little one kept trying to enter the world early. So once again I incorporated that into my writing and made it so that Sirens only carried their babies for three months and the next three months the male Titan, in this case Seth, carries the eggsac. Yeah, that could be my warped sense of humor—the woman in me wanting to get back at hubby so he could truly sympathize with my plight at the time. I wish I could say I wrote Rapture and that was it. Sadly, I wrote, re-wrote and re-wrote Rapture at least four times start to finish until I felt it was ready. Then I started looking for an agent, that’s a whole other story, and then a publisher. I met Raelene Gorlinsky, Publisher, Ellora’s Cave at a conference two years ago and did my first pitch ever. She was great. She was excited but honest and felt because it was sensual and not erotica it might better suit their new Cerridwen Press mainstream line. I was thrilled beyond belief. So that’s my story. Now, sense you stuck with me, you could win a free copy of Rapture by emailing me the answer to this question: 1. How many months does a Siren carry a baby? Send your answer to rbfield@eastlink.ca Labels: by Renee Field
Wednesday, September 26, 2007 In our lives, every day we are faced with decisions - some major, most minor. Do I wear this outfit or that? Do I want a bagel or muffin? Do I go to work or take the day off? Each decision has an effect on our lives. What you wear can tell the world about you and you are treated in a like fashion. If you don't believe this, try going to a store wearing your rattiest clothes and ask for help. Then go back wearing your best and ask for help. I'll bet the second time around you get more help. Whether we like it or not, we are judged by our appearance. But this isn't about appearance. This is about decisions. Each decision has an impact on our lives. Several years ago, I had enrolled in a college for an advanced degree. Due to illness, I had to drop out before I even got started. Then we found out the house needed a new roof and other repairs. So I left completely. Recently I was once again reminded that the people I started the program with have now gotten their degrees and have gone on to bigger and better things thanks to that degree. And I start to wonder if I shouldn't have finished. Do I need the degree? No. I've got a bachelor's and a master's. I certainly don't need another master's degree. And even if I had it, I'm of an age where most employers take one look at your date of birth and cross your name off the list without a second thought. Oh, I know, it's against the law to discriminate due to age. Yeah, right. Trust me, it happens. A lot. Ageism is alive and well in the work-a-day world. And yet... there is that indefinable "something" inside of me that yearns to mix with others of the same mind. Others who are in the same field. Others who understand the ups and downs, successes and frustrations. And I wonder... what if I went back? What if I got the degree? Then what? Do I need to spend the money on another piece of paper? Especially when it's probably not going to lead to a job? And I've taken on other responsibilities - ones that will require my time and energy. Do I want to risk that by getting back into homework and research and travel? And thus I come to my fork in the road. Like Robert Frost, I've been here before. Where I'm going, I have no idea. I'll let you know as soon as I do. ************* Progress - only 4 pages. Not a great night for writing. *********************** Birthdays: T. S. Eliot, Martin Heidegger, Jane Smiley, Isvar Chandra Vidyasagar Tips and Teasers: Write an article where you are interviewing a character from a story for the news and give it a different spin (i.e. interview the Big Bad Wolf, but why does everyone call him big or bad? He’s just trying to make a living.) Thought for the day: "To write anything tolerable, the mind must be in a natural, proper disposition; provocative, in that case, as well as in another, will only produce miserable, abortive performances." - Philip Dormer Stanhope, 4th Earl Chesterfield
Starting over I do a monthly column for Romance Writers of America's e-newsletter, eNotes, on the writers' life. It's a tough column in some ways -- it's such a broad topic, encompassing so many things. But the one I did for September, celebrating the beginning of the: a)school year b)fiscal year c)TV season d)what have you, strikes me as appropriate, since I just finished the edits for my next Cerridwen book. I signed the contract for this back in March, but with the complication of losing my original editor, getting a new editor, then waiting for her to edit Introducing Sonika, it's taken this long to get through the editing process. It's been long enough since I did all this for my last book -- a year ago, wow! -- that it all seemed new again. For that, here are a few ideas on starting over: Restart, reboot, refresh, renew, reimagine. There are so many variations of the concept of "starting over." Getting a fresh start is a universal desire, not exclusive to January 1. In September, of course, the tendency is for students of all kinds to consider the coming academic year. "I will study more," some may say. Or, "I will do more of the reading required." Or even, "I will attempt to attend class once in a while, just so the instructor vaguely recognizes me." Yes, a fresh start always inspires and encourages, whether it's a new school year or life after divorce or, even, throwing out the first fifty pages of your latest and greatest work and rewriting that sucker. And, it should be noted, there are many, many hits on Google on the idea of starting over, only some of them actually writing-related. But they're all interesting and intriguing. If you need a fresh start, if you're stuck, here are a few writing prompts that may give you that little shove back to square one. Write your ideas down, on anything you have, newspaper, hand, dust on your car (a great excuse not to wash the car immediately, incidentally): http://www.write-and-publish-fiction.com/creative-writing-prompts.html And for those not used to rewriting (who ARE you, anyway?), here's the story, if you will, of the rewrite of a story: http://fmwriters.com/Visionback/Issue9/Autumn.htm Then there's the idea of re-imagining something old, if you have something that's been sitting in a corner, silently mocking you with your ineffectiveness. Think of an old TV show and figure out how you would do it. Would there be a change in emphasis? Would you get different kinds of actors? A recent example of this would be the cult TV show Battlestar Galactica, the re-imagining of which caused an uproar among the fans of the original vs. those who were, to say the least, not as fond. What others would you do the same to? Take a poll and see the results: http://www.theendoftheuniverse.ca/node/547 As you can tell, starting over isn't something to dread. It's a chance to try something brand new. Eilis Flynn THE SLEEPER AWAKES, FESTIVAL OF STARS www.eilisflynn.com --
Sunday, September 23, 2007  Prologue His trembling fingers rested on the keyboard as he leaned toward the monitor, an uncontrollable twitch running through his misshapen body as he devoured the article with the greedy need of a child offered chocolate. ’Legend has it that out of all the mortals on earth five women found favor with the gods: Sophia whose face was pitted and ravaged by pox, Zoe a young queen whose village was razed and plundered and she herself taken as slave, Pelagia who had the body of a woman and the mind of a child, Olympia a poor widow with children to feed, and Helen who had lost four out of five of her children to the plague and begged the gods to spare her remaining child Moved, the gods created five special amulets. To Athena they gave an amulet forged with beauty and creativity. To Zoe an amulet forged with power. To Pelagia an amulet forged with knowledge. To And to Helen they forged a copper amulet with a beautiful amethyst at its center. Two plain stones the size of small coins flanked the amethyst. The female stone smooth, the male stone’s texture rough. Then they fused the amulet with healing. Or so legend has it…’ www.Sandracox1.com
Wednesday, September 12, 2007 you probably know: Madeleine L'Engle, author of A Wrinkle in Time and many other books. I had the rare pleasure of having bumped into her up in the West Side of Manhattan, her old stomping grounds, back when I was a grad student, during a street festival. I knew she lived in the neighborhood, and I passed the church where she worked, St. John the Divine, virtually every day. How could I not run into her? I couldn't quite remember the way she looked, but hope sprang eternal, and I kept an eye out for her. But as the way these things go, I never met her until basically my The other influence was Miyoshi Umeki, a Japanese actress who was Two very different influences in my life, but both memorable in their own way. Eilis Flynn
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007  FINALLY! I've been so looking forward to this. My paranormal series kicks off in 11 days with the release of Forgiveness, my paranormal/reincarnation time travel/love story/mystery-thriller. I tried to get as many genres as I could. {smile} I worked my buns off, whipping this book into shape (well, my editor whipped me, and she was right -- the book was vastly improved when she finished). But I did sweat over it A LOT. Now it's just a matter of seeing if others can get into the story. It's all about a chance for a 'do-over'. If you betrayed someone you loved, when you die, you're giving a chance to do it all over again. There's a couple of catches, though: you'll be reincarnated with your lover, but your lover won't know about your past life connection and you can't tell your lover about it, or your penance is forfeit. When you revisit the place of the betrayal (these are time travelers, remember?) then you'll find out if you'll be forgiven. Oh, and there's another catch: you're a shapeshifter, and you can't be human until penance has been won and forgiveness given. This was a very complicated book, and I had to come with rules, regulations, and how-to and how-come. But it was so much fun to map it all out. I'm working on the next books in the series, so keep fingers crossed that this gets a good reception! Back to the serious work of writing, now ... I'm deep into 1936 America for the next book, and I'm just about to introduce John Dillinger into the plot.
Thursday, September 06, 2007  ISABELLE'S DIARY is out and ready to order. This is the day my contemporary romance with a sneaky paranormal twist heads out into the world. I love the cover. It hints subtly about the contents of the diary. Happy and Sad. Can a ghost appear on a sunny morning in June? Can a ghost sit at a cafe table in Llandrindod Wells weeping over a diary? Who is the girl dressed in somber Victorian black whose appearance and sudden disappearance disrupts Sally Carter's orderly life? Determined the discover the identity of the mysterious stranger, Sally seeks help from handsome Welsh historian, Dan Conway. During their search for answers Sally finds more than she bargained for. Long buried family secrets come to light. Links to the past surprise her. Not until she returns home to Toronto do pieces of the puzzle fall into place. But a question lingers. Who was the girl in the cafe and why was Sally the only person to see her? A blurb and excerpt are up on my web site to-day. www.anitabirt.com Anita
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