Ahh, Book Reviews

Crossroads

Book Reviews are the written opinion of  others on a book.  Authors wait for them.  Worry over them.  Want them to be good.  Because they reflect approval.

A bad review can devastate us if we let it.  A great one can keep us chained to our computers clicking away on the keys to produce our next book.  A favorite New York Times best-selling author advised a group of us (and I’m paraphrasing) to avoid reading the bad ones because you can’t please everyone all the time.  Just dwell on the good reviews.  Good advice for a new author without a rhino-hide.

Today I’m dealing with two types or reviews: reader and professional.

This past week I learned about a “professional” book review published and on the web for Black Ribbon Affair.  This means on a website that regularly posts reviews and maintains a staff or reviewers to do so.

Some review sites are very prestigious.  Think NY Times Book Reviews or Publishers Weekly.  Many larger and local newspapers have book reviews and you see tidbits from those reviews on the “brag page” of an author’s book.  People read these and think: “Yeah, I’d like to read that.”

Publishing houses send out advance copies to these places for “professionals” to review or sometimes authors submit a books for review.  My publisher The Wild Rose Press has a list of approximately 30 – 40 review sites that it sends its new books for reviews.  The one I’m talking about today was one of those.  My Google Alert told me to check it out.

I held my breath.  Would it be awful?  Would I like it a titch? More than a titch?  A lot?

I stared at the link,  almost clicked on it, then chickened out.  No, I couldn’t face it, not without another cup of coffee.  After all, it was early morning and a bad review could ruin my day’s outlook.  I read email and called a friend—all to ease my anxiety and stave off the moment of reckoning.

Finally, my courage bolstered, I clicked on the link for Long & Short Reviews.  And read a wonderful review.  My first “official” review.  I’m validated.  I feel like I’ve been nominated for a Golden Globe.  Did Meryl Streep feel this way with her first great review?  Or Nora Roberts?

This positive review brings a certain kind of satisfaction.  And hosannas to a reviewer named Camellia which means gratitude.  I am grateful she “got” my book.  So have my readers who’ve posted great reviews.  Thank you for that.  Good reviews and word of mouth help sell books.

Book sales bring profit to the publisher.  If a reader loves a book and tells other readers about the book, then those readers go out and buy the book.  This makes the publisher happy (and the book seller, too) because the book may earn back what it cost to produce and stock.  Of course, sales make the author happy because she will get a percentage of that sale.  Anyway, that’s a simplified version of the process.

I make it a point to read the blog Magical Musings every day.  I find the topics these women write about both inspire me and provide a sense of connection to our creative spirit.  Imagine my delight to see a wonderful review of Black Ribbon Affair on their site.  Every weekend they give a review of a book.  Their book selections are as individual as the women themselves.  But most often after I’ve read a review from there, I click on the buy site and purchase the book.  I’ve not been disappointed yet.

Joyful Bubbles

I’ve climbed another step this week.  Of course, I have more steps ahead.  Realistically, I’ll likely suffer some slips.  But I’m holding on to the memories of the exciting glow of “job well done.”

I thank you all for helping me get there.

Sighting Beauty

Frozen Lake

Lake Michigan’s water has cooled from it’s summer temperatures over the past few months.  When our unusual-for-January “warm” weather disappeared faster than a genie’s puff of smoke this past week, the water turned to ice.  Overnight. 

Not thick ice, but thick enough the first day that the surface appeared as if wrapped in heavy duty saran wrap. That night we were treated to the sight of an almost full moon shining down on the ice and throwing back the light.  A sight I knew my camera could never capture but my memory did.  Incredible. 

Two mornings later, I woke to a winter snow globe effect. Fluffy white snowflakes gently falling.  With no wind (also usual for us so close to the lake), the snow covered the ice that had been building on the lake.  

I could then see that the ice-wrapped lake extended as far as I could see to the eastern horizon.  The day stayed dreary.  The gloom lifted only by those gently falling flakes and the continually changing waterscape of my much-loved lake.  I could see varying sizes of breaks within the ice where small streams of water must be draining off the land. 

Between the snow sprinkles, the ice and the difference is water color depending on the depth—all this reminded me of a very expensive piece of exquisite moiré perhaps, its ombre hues shifting and weaving into each other. 

Shifting Ice

This past week has had many challenges for my family, my friends, me.  However, seeing this gift from mother nature lifted my spirits and keeps me hopeful.  That is a gift also for if I’m at peace I can extend better help and consolation to those around me who need it.  I can deal more effectively with life around me. 

Take time this week to open up to the simple beauty that shows up in your world.  And if you’ve had a “beautiful moment” you want to share, please do.

Mussels, A Muse & Moods in a Fog

Foggy weather

Last evening we went with neighbors out for dinner.  The restaurant buzzed with activity and the hum of friendly chatter.  Its ambience of good cheer was the perfect antidote to a week of dreary skies, bad news, and January moods.  All wrapped up in a fog that reminded me of a foggy, rainy day and night in Bar Harbor, Maine and San Francisco every time I’ve been there. 

All week long I’d been trying to come up with a decent topic for today’s post.  My recalcitrant muse was being as cranky as the weather and wouldn’t come sit on my shoulder, no matter what rewards I offered.  So, while I can’t attest to my companions’ moods for the week, I was definitely ready to get out of the house and enjoy the wonderful fare at the restaurant we chose. 

Maybe I’d find my topic there. 

We all agreed that some interesting appetizers were what we needed first.  That’s where the mussels came in.  While we waited for our appetizers, we ordered three different ones—all to share, we reminisced about lazy summer days, warm evenings when we sat together and watched the moon rise above the lake. 

The fresh, steamed mussels were exquisite. Tasting savory with a sauce of tomato, garlic, fennel, white wine, cream, and hints of lemon and parsley.  Yum. Yum.  Let’s hear it for Molly Malone Mussels. Needless to say, our entrees had much to live up to—and they did.  A perfect dining experience to chase away the moodiness a dreary winter week produced. 

This morning in church a young family sat in front of us.  As I listened to the homily, my eyes drifted to the mother who was holding the youngest, I’d guess a boy about 3 years old.  The priest’s message didn’t mean much to the youngster but instead of getting antsy and cranky, he reached up with a dimpled hand and turned his mother’s face toward him.  Then he kissed her and laid his head on her shoulder. 

Charming scene.  One that caused me to remember long ago times when my sons did similar things to me.  I hope that young mother remembers these days as all too soon children grow up and the innocence so apparent in the scene I witnessed this morning can’t be recaptured though the love remains.  So another musing. 

On the way home from church the sun emerged.  For about an hour.  Now the dreary skies have returned.  But I have the memories of mussels, the beauty of a winter fog and the magic of a little boy’s expression of love to feed my creative muse. 

And my blog topic bloomed. 

I expect she won’t be so cranky this coming week.  What do you think?

Icy Shorelines & Writing Issues

Ice waves on winter beach

One morning this past week when our skies were still winter dreary but our thermometers rose higher than they’d been since before Christmas, I took my camera and drove into town to view the Lake Michigan shore from a different vantage point. 

I’m so glad I did. 

I see our lake every day whenever I gaze from my windows.  Always the view inspires me, but after a while one can take the view for granted.  This beautiful setting is a daily expectation. 

Looking at the shoreline from different perspectives in town and seeing the beauty from a different angle made me think of how we as individuals take those people and situations that reside in our daily lives for granted. It takes seeing them in different surroundings or handling issues beyond how we normally experience them to push us from our complacent stance. 

That change in our reality sphere often jumpstarts our relationship in a new way—sometimes thrilling, sometimes dangerous, sometimes sad. 

So too with writers.  Sometimes we get stalled in our writing process.  Our characters blend into the sameness of our white monitor screens.  Our plots so familiar to us grown more staid with each sentence we write. When this occurs, we need to step back and see our words and our stories from a different perspective.  We may be correct in our original assessment.  Or we could be totally wrong. 

Shifting our perspective or gaining insight from someone else, can help us add layers and depth to our story and our characters.  We can chip away at flaws once we see them from another angle.  We can immerse ourselves in the layers we’ve built with our words and imagination while allowing new elements to what is already in place.  We can add complications like weather systems, wind, snow and sleet do to change the look of the shoreline or the line of rocks. 

Pine Tree at shore

Just like my eyes were opened to the new and spectacular essence of my beloved Lake Michigan. 

What has opened your eyes to some take-for-granted person, place, or thing in your lives?

Failure and Surrender

A Challenge at the Keyboard

I had a different topic in mind for this week.  Then I listened to Friday evening’s news and heard about the death of Jean Biden, the 92 year old mother of our Vice President, Joe Biden.

In later broadcasts, in the Saturday papers, and on my computer news page, I read more about the woman and viewed once again video footage of her and her son.

I don’t know about you, and I’m not touching politics here, but one fact about Mrs. Biden grabbed my soul.  If you are a parent, especially a mother, didn’t you feel an emotional tug at the clips of her when TV cameras panned in on Jean Biden at various times during major moments in the last election?  For example, when her son was using his mom and her words in some meaningful way?

I can only answer for myself.  I did.  I reread and reviewed the time Joe Biden mentioned his mother’s comment on failure and giving up.  To paraphrase:  Failure at some point in everyone’s life is inevitable, but giving up is unforgivable.

WOW!

I must use this as one of my mantra’s for the rest of my life.  Those words succinctly express what I’ve learned already, but I must paste them around me in my office.  Why?  Because as a writer, I fight failure with every page I write.  The publishing business isn’t easy.  Failure happens, often because of situations a writer can’t control.  But it still hurts.  The failures arrow into our souls and can fester, pushing us to reconsider our talent and what we write.  It’s the time when we must bow to the inevitability that we all will have our failures.  Just as Mrs. Biden told her son.

That’s where the second part of Mrs. Biden’s powerful statement comes into play.

We can’t give up, take our words and ideas, and throw them out with the trash of our daily existence.  We must work at continuing to believe in ourselves and our passion for writing.  Not to do so is unforgivable and denies us the chances to perfect the talents we’ve been blessed with.

I’ve stumbled often and failed.  Sometimes I’ve considered giving up.  In writing and with situations in life.  But my passion for writing, my friends and my family would never forgive me if I did so.

By accepting my failures and learning from them, I have lived long enough to see success—as a person, a professional, and within my deeply loved circle of family and friends.  To give up isn’t an option.  I’d disappoint too many I love, respect and admire.

What do you think about this concept?

Life Smoke

Lake Smoke

2010 brought frigid weather to my neighborhood.  However, our lake waters are still much warmer than the air temperatures.  This temperature contrast has produced some very different lakescapes. 

What that means is that we have been seeing a phenomenon referred to by some as “Arctic Sea Smoke.”  I notice this event especially in the morning when I first wake and glance out my window to Lake Michigan.  Sometimes the “smoke” rises quite high above the water, then you see the sunrise or glimpse puffy clouds tinged pink with a sun trying hard to break through the cloud cover. 

Sometimes the phenomenon hunkers closer to the waters with a thick consistency that makes me think of a meringue on a lemon pie.  No matter how the “smoke” looks or behaves, I find myself lost in watching it and letting my mind drift to possibilities for my characters and within my life. 

Why?  Because to make my writing interesting and to give my characters depth, I must provide conflict and more often complications.  If I do my job well, like the “smoke” or “smoke” on the lake, these problems must be resolved.  Sometimes, I might want my characters have more trouble getting through their problems and at times those problems might overwhelm them.  But like the “smoke” on the lake, the right conditions will dissipate the condition, just as the right conditions and timing will resolve a character’s problems or a story’s conflict. 

Cold but Clear shoreline

In my own life, I’ve had times when a clear vision has been thickly obscured by “smoke.”  What I’ve learned is to trust myself that the “smoke” can be worked through or waited out.  It depends on the situation.  But that understanding is a major stress reducer.  I wasn’t born with this wisdom.  I had to earn it by navigating through the “smoke” of life.  Just like I make my characters do in my writing. 

What about you?  Do you let the “smoke” in your life tangle you up and keep you from moving forward?

Happy New Year

I’ll be working on my New Year’s Resolutions this week.  And likely forgetting about them within 3 weeks.  :-)

That’s why I prefer to think of goals, long term and short term.  That term seems less daunting. Here are my wishes for your 2010 through song and photos. See you next year!

Twelve Days of Christmas Reduces Stress

Christmas Past

Am I busy getting ready for Christmas?

Well sure, I am.  And this year I’ve had the added hectic but long-awaited tasks of promoting Black Ribbon Affair.  However, several years ago, I took a bit of wisdom from my sister-in-law who’s spent most Decembers being over-committed and time-challenged.

What was her secret?

Celebrate the season, not the day and follow the idea of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Very smart woman, my sister-in-law.

Cards not sent out and at their destination by December 24th?  No worry, if they arrive on January 2nd, the receiver will have more time to enjoy the card and its message.

Not all the baking or cooking done?  So what!  Eating a fresh batch of cookies on December 29th beats stale ones every time.  And as for cooking?  Who says we must have several meals?  And what’s wrong with leftovers of the Christmas ham?  Fortunately, our family loves hearty pea soup with fresh bread on January 1st.

Anyway, you get the idea.

Santa's Getting Ready for the kiddies

Oh, it’s gift shopping and wrapping you’re most stressed about?  Well, even here, if you wait until a few days after Christmas you may fight fewer crowds.  Or if your shopping is done but you’re not seeing the giftees until after the 24th or 25th, wrap away a few hours before you see them.

The kids may need  you to meet a deadline if you are helping Santa, but if you have arrived at the wise stage of life, you enjoy quality time spent with loved ones, time to reflect on holidays past, spent with those no longer walking the earth, and the less stressful tempo of knowing all you want to do and enjoy can be spread out over twelve days.

So folks, start celebrating on December 24th, but don’t have it end on the 25th.  Follow through.  Spread the celebration until January 6th.

This year one of our local police departments did a video about this philosophy, sort of.  It’s humorous but will never win any awards, except for spreading good will.

And I leave you with that thought.  When next I post, the big holiday will be finished, kaput, out-of-sight, except maybe for the shredded ribbons and wrapping.

But not at our house.  We’ll still have a few presents under the tree.

What do you think of my ‘borrowed’ philosophy?

Playmates

Panda mates in winter

My hubby and I received a Christmas note inside a card this past week.  The card came from a woman who became a widow this past summer.  Her husband was the CEO of the corporation my husband worked for and we often played bridge with them. 

We were pleased to see this card and her note.  Both my husband and I know first hand the difficulties that surround the first major holiday after the loss of a beloved person.  My heart lifted at the woman’s note to us.  She plainly acknowledged her loss of her life companion with this sentence which tugged at my soul.  “How lucky we were to share 24 years after retirement as loving playmates.” 

I think that those simple words as such a magnificent tribute to the man he was, the woman she is, the love they shared for more than 60 years, and the fun they had in retirement. 

Too often we hear of couples who enter retirement and retire from life.  Not these two.  Or we hear of couples married for many years, but they have never seen themselves as playmates.  Only spouses. 

If any of you wonder where I come up with character traits, I tell you this with all honesty.  I  sometimes look around me and find stellar examples.  Traits or experiences people have that can be spun into a story. 

Somehow, I don’t know yet exactly in what way, that widow’s sentence and all it incorporates will find its way into a future book.  Have you encountered people in your lives who in some way fill your soul with a word or phrase that sums up the entirety of their lives?

Yet Another Step as Published Author

Coastline near Santa Barbara

I tried something very new for me yesterday.  That’s not easy to accomplish at my age, but with this new venture of being a published author, I’ve encountered several lately.  Almost makes me feel like a twenty-something woman but with a wealth of experience.  

So what was the new experience? 

Well, not quite this elegant

I set up a table at a holiday/craft/market affair in an old art deco theater lobby in this area.  I didn’t bring my camera and I should have since the chandeliers in the lobby above my table were magnificent.  And the marble staircase right behind me?  Awesome. 

As shoppers and lookers filed into the theater lobby on a frosty but sunny Saturday morning, I found my little table with some artfully placed books, a informational sign about Black Ribbon Affair and a laminated copy of the recent news article about me and Black Ribbon competing with Santa and his merry elves, marvelous aromas of rich hot coffee and flavored popped corn.  

Right next to me the vendor, a friend since high school was doing a booming business with her handmade children’s books, scarves and jewelry.  On the other side a friendly woman Patti did brisk business selling her hand-made soaps and lotions. A bit further down a man offered some beautifully crafted wood pieces.  And so much more enticed from homemade bread, cheese and sausage to apples, jams, jellies and did I mention Santa? 

Writer at work?

However, could I and my book compete?  Maybe I should have dressed as Santa and brought my laptop along?

Well, my table was different and my wares were also.  They made the crowd curious.  People stopped to ask about the life of a writer, how I worked and where.  They asked about the book, sometimes bought one for themselves or as a Christmas gift for a reader on their lists.  I reconnected with people I haven’t seen in years or someone who knew my mother, or a sibling, or a child. 

I did sell books.  Maybe not as many as I might have liked, but I met people, made connections to other people and venues I might consider doing a signing or a meet the author event, places I didn’t know about.  I exchanged information with people who might be helpful in the future and this published author journey continues. 

That glittery cloth enhances the books

What did I learn yesterday?  That the joy in a person’s face and eyes you see reflected when they ask about your passion and show interest in what you do can be as important as another immediate sale.  They may go to Amazon.com or their nearest bookstore and order a copy.  They will read my website and my blog and perhaps stay in touch.

If I only gain two solid fans from yesterday, that’s two more than I had on Friday. 

And found a topic for today’s blog posting.   

Am I wearing rose-colored glasses about this?  Should I be grumpy that I didn’t sell out?