Celebratory

It’s that time of year again. As always, I will be (mostly) offline for the week of my birthday, so from about August 23rd to the 30th. I plan to spend the entire time eating cake and playing video games, or what I like to call “vacation”.

Like this. But bigger.

I’m turning twenty nine this year, and if my mom is any indication, that’s as old as I’m ever going to get. She herself is only twenty nine, which is miraculous since she is now younger than all three of her children. I’m not sure if it’s some kind of time stasis or what, but I do know that I’m not allowed to question her about it. Ever.

So! If anyone has anything they want to promote or feels like giving me a guest post, please, let me know. Have a great August!

Guest Post: William Kendall

My vacation starts today! WOOO! And William was nice enough to give me a post so I don't have to do any, you know, work. Enjoy his awesome Sharknado post. He actually knows the actors, which I'm impressed about because I always just thought they were dolls the director danced around in front of the camera. Well, you learn something new every day. Now I'm going to go play video games until my eyes bleed. Later!


Washed Up Has-Beens Killed In Bizarre Incident; Studio Scrambles To Find Solution

Los Angeles (AP) The producers of the Sharknado franchise are in crisis mode after their stars, on a

publicity tour in Great Britain, were killed in a most horrific fashion by what some are calling a freak

of nature, others calling poetic justice. Anthony Ferrante and David Latt met reporters for a press

conference at their ramshackle studio The Asylum. “We must confirm the terrible news from Glasgow,”

Ferrante told reporters. “Ian Ziering and Tara Reid have passed away after injuries sustained in a most

unfortunate incident.”

Unfortunate incident would be an understatement. Ziering and Reid co-starred in the first two SyFy

films about killer sharks caught up in tornadoes in Los Angeles and New York. The films with laughable

special effects and no regard for science seemed to have caught on with audiences, for one of two

reasons. Either they have no personal taste, or they like laughing at horribly cheesy films. The pair of

actors, who credited the two films with reviving stalled careers and giving them enough money to pay

off loan sharks, were in Glasgow doing publicity work for the second film. A third Sharknado, previously

announced as Sharknado: Jumping The Shark had already been announced.

The actors were in King’s Park in the southern stretches of the city, speaking with reporters about the

next film, which early word has said will be set in the United Kingdom. “We wanted the Queen to do a

cameo in the film,” Latt told reporters. “But Buckingham Palace sent back what seemed to be a rather

impolite reply telling us to drop dead. I don’t know why, maybe she’s holding out for a bigger part. I

mean who wouldn’t want to do a Sharknado film?”

Witnesses described what happened next, and the incident was caught on film. Ziering and Reid were

speaking about how grateful they were to have paying work again when a flurry of motion converged

on the pair from all sides, low to the ground, a horde of white rabbits, all of whom seemed unconcerned

with the presence of the media. They were later confirmed to be Killer Rabbits, an occasional pestilence

in the British Isles since the time of King Arthur, according to the resident experts on the subject, Monty

Python alumni Terry Gilliam and Terry Jones. “Nasty blighters,” Jones said. “What no one realized at the

time we made that film was that the decapitations and bloody gore of the Killer Rabbit scene was real.”

“Mind you, a horde of Killer Rabbits exterminating those two actors isn’t such a bad thing, is it?” Gilliam

chimed in.

Ziering and Reid were viciously and sadistically attacked by the Killer Rabbits, which swarmed all over

them both. Ziering’s head was later found in a nearby fountain with a look of stunned surprise on his

face. Within thirty seconds, it was all over. And for some strange reason, the Killer Rabbits never even

harmed the reporters, simply took their leave of the scene.

Prime Minister Cameron addressed the matter from Ten Downing, speaking to reporters. “Look, if

it was someone who mattered, we might be inclined to announce a culling of the Killer Rabbits, but

we’re talking about Steve Sanders, or whatever the hell his real name was, and an actress who went

overboard with plastic surgery. I ask you, will anyone really miss them?”

Latt and Ferrante were beside themselves. “We’re going to have to rewrite the whole third movie,

recast the leads. Unless we can cobble together shots from the earlier film with some green screen and

dub their voices,” Ferrante said. “Do you think that would work?”

Former co-stars of Beverly Hills 90210 were asked for their comment on the matter. Jason Priestley

sighed in frustration when stopped by reporters. “Look, I haven’t spoken to Ian in years, and I really

want to put those days behind me and concentrate on building my career. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I

have to judge a doughnut contest.”

Shannen Doherty, who has spent years blowing up bridges professionally, did comment on the matter,

but her remarks were so filled with obscene language as to be unfit for publication. In this reporter’s

opinion, she needs therapy.

We leave the last word to Brian Austin Greene. “Wow,” the vacant looking former David Silver said upon

hearing the news. “That’s just awful. I don’t know what to say. Except, well... do you think they’d recast

me for the third Sharknado?”

The Time Approaches

What time? you ask. Why, my birthday, of course. In less than a month. How could you not know that? Really!

Anyway, as usual around my birthday, I take some time off from writing and blogging and trying to be a useful part of society in general. And also as usual, I’d like to know if anyone is willing to give me a guest post to enable my decent into laziness. I really hope someone does, because otherwise you’re going to get stuck with five minute stick figure comics. And the ones I usually post take a half hour to do, so just think about how awful they’re going to be.

Think about it.

Any volunteers? Anyone want to speak to a slightly different audience? Got something to promote?

Hello? Anyone there at all?

Guest Post: Roland Yeomans

I am still on my blogcation because when I party for my birthday, I PARTY. Anyway, Roland Yeomans was kind enough to step in with a post of his own. And you're in for a treat because if there's one thing he does well, it's blog posts.

The Native American shamans will tell you that there is power in the use of names -- and death if you use the wrong ones.

Laughing Wolf, a cyber friend, asked what Elu (the name of my hero's blood brother) meant. He told me that in Estonian it means life. I hadn't known that.

I did know that in several Native American languages it means "full of grace." But Elu is only half-Apache {a name meaning 'enemy'}.

His mother is the Turquoise Woman, who was called Gaia by the ancient Greeks. So I was very careful in selecting the name Elu, for there is more to him than even Samuel knows.

Elu in ancient Chaldean encompasses in its Semitic essence, the concept of surpassing might, immense power, and unlimited strength. There is more to Elu than what his surface would suggest.

And such it is with all the names of my major characters.

Their names are portals through which you can view the essence of their natures. As with Samuel and with his one great love, Meilori Shinseen.

{Shinseen being the delicate, exquisite fae controlling Fate and Fortune in ancient Chinese mythology.}

Nor do I hide the significance of those meanings from the reader, as in this excerpt from my Titanic fantasy, RITES OF PASSAGE :

{McCord has sensed someone in great anguish on the upper deck of the DEMETER and has gone to check if there is something he can do.}

I slowed as I spotted a woman, sitting right on the wooden deck by the railing, huddled over something. I wrapped the threads of night tighter about me and stepped closer. The faint smell of jasmine tickled my nose. She was in a long, flowing scarlet and black Victorian gown.

I stiffened as the fog thinned enough for me to make out her slanted eyes, not quite Japanese, not quite Chinese, but a beautiful blend of the two.  Her long black hair was styled up, her eyes were cast down.

She was stroking a dead seagull, its slender neck bent awkward. I guessed that it had hit the rigging in the fog and killed itself, tumbling to the deck.

The woman spoke, and it was as if her vocal chords were velvet. Her accent.  It was like human speech itself was a foreign language to her.

"Poor little creature of air. Like last month, I came upon you too late. Too late."

She spoke as if the two words were a summing up of her whole life. 

There were disturbing depths of sadness in those eyes. Depths in whose darkness swam the monsters which drive us or haunt us or both. Those depths whispered of age more ancient than the Aztecs, more dangerous than even my past. They both called and warned at the same time.

She stroked the bird's head tenderly as if afraid of waking it up. "Oh, to be able to go back to that world of wonder I had before I became wise and unhappy."

She held the limp bird up to her breast and sighed,

"Dreams drift like clouds,
I reach to touch the moon,
I grasp but empty night."

I felt like I was intruding, but I couldn't force myself to step away as she placed the bird back down to her lap and whispered in an accent even stranger than before,

"Little creature of air, I came upon thee just in time to see thee die. Thou art a symbol of my life, a symbol of the futility of all my days."

I couldn’t take her pain any more and dropped the threads of night to step forward. "Not futility, ma'am."

She hushed in a breath as if to scream, stared at me for long silent seconds, then forced out, "I - I did not see you -- Westerner."

"I'm a Texas Ranger, ma'am. We don't learn to move quiet, we don't live very long. I mean you no harm."

Her face became twisted with self-loathing. "You could not harm me any more, mortal."

"You're right there, ma'am. I couldn't bring myself to muss a hair on your head - which is why I couldn't just walk away back into the night before I told you the truth."

Her lips curled bitterly. "And just what is this truth?"

"That you came just in time to give that little bird a precious gift."

She sneered, "And what gift would that have been?"

"It got to die in the arms of one who cared and cried over its passing. How many of us get to die that loved?"

Her face flinched as if I had slapped it. "Not ... very ... many."

I tugged down on the brim of my Stetson. "Yes, ma'am, not very many at all. You weren't futile. You were a blessing."

I turned to go, and she called out to me. "What is your name, Ranger?"

Something told me to keep on walking, but I turned back around, my loneliness overcoming my caution. "Samuel, ma'am. Samuel McCord."

Her face grew haunted. "Samuel, from the Hebrew Shemu'el, 'God Has Heard'."

Her eyes searched mine. "Is your coming a portent that He heard me last month?"

"He always hears you, ma'am. The trick is are you listening?"

Her smile flashed briefly like the gleam of a knife slashing from out of the darkness. "And do you listen, Samuel?"

The way she said my name was like no other way it had ever been said. Her voice sent tingles along the scalp at the back of my neck. I rubbed it self-consciously.

"Me, ma'am? No, I'm too stiff-necked for that."

"Please stop calling me ma'am. It makes me feel my age."

"Well, ma-, Miss, what is your first name?"

She stiffened like I had stepped across a taboo. Her face closed like a fist.  "Those who are permitted call me Meilori." 

Pain flickered in her green eyes.  "'Meilori' Beautiful Laurel.  Even my name is a cruel jest on the emptiness my life has become." 

"Or maybe ... Miss, it's just a promise pointing to the victory your life could become if you don't give up." 

*** 

Elu means "Full of Grace" as I've said.  Sam tells Elu he is usually full of something else - which is why his eyes are so brown.  

Elu calls Samuel 'Dyami' (Eagle) representing his silver hair and the Ranger's eternal lonely hunt through life for a nest of his own.  

The rest of you don't have to do this with your names, of course. I did it so that if any cared to look deeper into my novel, they would find layers of meaning and enjoyment that lay hidden just under the surface. It was the old teacher and mentor in me.

Wanted: Guest Posts

It’s that time of year again!

Not big enough.

That magical, special time when we celebrate the birth of *me* on August 26^th, when I’ll be the ancient, decrepit age of twenty seven. Anyway, as usual, and I mean as I’ve done for the past two years, I’m going to take a blogging vacation around that time, so if anyone has something to promote or an idea to share or feels like doing me a solid, please let me know. Also, two weeks after that is approaching my blogiversary, so I’m going to be totally lazy and do reposts for then. Yes, I’ll be celebrating my blog by not doing anything to it : ).

So again, if you feel like doing a guest post for me, shoot me an email. If you don’t…don’t do anything, I guess. But be safe when you’re celebrating my birthday. I know it’s the happiest day of the year, but don’t go overboard. 

Guest Post: Gwen Gardner

Since I'm busy doing absolutely nothing, Gwen volunteered to take over my blog for the day and be totally awesome. Everyone be sure to comment.

Thanks for allowing me to guest post today, Jeanne. I hope you have a wonderful day off and a very Happy Birthday! You run along now – I’ll take good care of your followers today ;) 

Now that Jeanne’s off having a good time on her birthday, I want to talk about something that is of the utmost importance to writers: Self-Editing. 

Even though I’ve written my first book and am about to self-publish, I still consider myself a newbie writer. So I would never presume to try and teachyou anything, rather I’d like to sharesome of what I learned along my journey. 

Self-editing is tough. We’re so close to our project that it’s hard to see it objectively, and that’s why we send our work off to our critique partners. Still, there are some things we can do first.

You know all the hype about those pesky “to-be” verbs? I had no idea when I started writing that they were a problem. These are words we use every day: is, am, are, was, were, be, being, and been. 

What is so bad about “to be” verbs, you ask? Nothing, per se. I mean, William Shakespeareis the one who said, “to be, or not to be: that is the question.” He has three to-be verbs right there in one sentence. So obviously, if Will uses them, then they have to be okay. 

So what’s the problem then? “To be” verbs can be passive, vague, confusing and general. In the writing business, that means weak.

Which one of these sentences do you like best?

Passive: “A secret gift was given to Jeanne by a hunky guy for her birthday.”

Active: “Daniel Dae Kim gave Jeanne a secret gift for her birthday.” 

I took out “was given” and replaced it with “gave” instead. And now do you see what happened? The sentence became active rather than passive. 

By the way...Mr. Kim is not the least bit passive. I mean, Look. At. Him. Daniel Dae Kim is smokin’ – if we had to label him using the parts of speech, he’d be an action verb! 

And there’s so much more you can do to self-edit! 

A freelance editor critiqued my book and provided me with a four-page list of self-edits that should be done before submitting your book. It includes how to format your MS, spotting filler words and quantifiers, weak “to be” verbs, and advice on dialogue, your first three chapters and other cool stuff. I would love to share it with you. Anyone who would like a copy, please contact me at ladygwen@centurylink.net with your email and I’d be happy to send it to you. 

Thanks for letting me fill in for you today, Jeanne! I hope you’re having a great birthday. And um, it couldn’t actually hurt to wish for Daniel Dae Kim’s secret gift while you’re blowing out your candles. 

Bio: Gwen Gardner is a citizen of Blogtown and resides at Gwen Gardner, YA Author. Her first book, Givin’ Up The Ghost, will be self-published in October 2012 under the Partners in ParanormYAbanner.