The Mystery of the Disappearing Underpants- A Book Review

This is a middle level reader for 3rd grade and up. You can purchase this chapter book HERE.

I loved this book. It is written as the secret spy log of three neighborhood kids trying to solve multiple mysteries. They end up getting into quite a bit of trouble along the way.

This book brought me back to the days of my childhood and the radical adventures my friends and I would send ourselves on. What I really loved was the ease of reading. The author alternates narrators between each member of the spy team, and it is incredibly fun and easy to keep up with.

As an American reader, I found that sometimes I was having to reread some lines to get a better grasp of what was happening or what the narrator meant, but I would 100% encourage my son to read this to expand his knowledge of English cultures and reading within context. Nothing was far from deduction.

Nikki Young, thank you for writing such a rich adventure for the growing generations. I cannot wait until my children are old enough to devour this book as quickly as I did.

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Pitch Wars Update- A Writing About Writing

“You can’t be brave if you’ve only had wonderful things happen to you.” -Mary Tyler Moore

Earlier this month I submitted my very first novel to PitchWars (HERE) in hopes of snagging a mentor that will help me shape it into the master piece that I see in my mind. Well, I did not get in. Which is fine. I am actually in the majority and did not take it very hard.

The day after submitting my first ten pages for consideration, I attended a writing conference (which I wrote about HERE). I was able to tweak my in person pitch, tighten my query letter, and found some very GLARING problems within the first few pages of my work and even some throughout.

These are VICTORIES for me. They are not setbacks. I knew I had a lot of work to do, but I also know that it will be worth it to see Apparent Power within a cover and in my hands. My premise sparks interest with agents and now I have to wow them with my hardly more than mediocre writing.

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Though I am so excited about my new book, Apparent Power is my baby and I cannot wait for Valerie’s story to be available to the masses. You can preview it HERE.

So while I balance work, kids, and life, I guess it’s back to late nights in September editing and writing on my lunch break.

If you are a writer and have experienced rejection or are being hard on yourself (its a vicious cycle, we all do it) take a breath and say “I won’t learn if I don’t try. If I fail, I will know why and work to fix it.” You are in control of your emotions. You are in control of your actions. You can be defeated or you can have your beverage of choice, maybe cry a bit if that’s your thing, and then you suck it up and drive on. Your writing goal is not stupid or unrealistic. It takes a special person to keep going, and I think you’re pretty special. Good Luck!

The Condition of the Railroad Wife (But this may also apply to you)…

I talk a lot about Tribe in regards to parenting, wifing, working, writing, etc. It is a very particular group of people that “get” the aspect of your life that is unique to the general population. Of these, I find the railroad wives to be my biggest cheerleaders. An even smaller group (you know who you are because I know you’re reading this), is a handful of women, rough around the edges, that fight like mad to keep their families together in the face of the struggles of being married to a RR.

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What a dummy.. 

I have noticed that on social media there is a small group of ladies that are willing to be brutally honest about their feelings towards their husbands in regards to their profession. If you are not familiar with the dynamics of having a RR for a spouse, you can check these Six Facts (HERE) or this short story (HERE).

There is another group of women that praise every ounce of their husbands being. While I am not apart of this group, I will approach them with sensitivity, as I am sure that a couple of things may be true

  1. They actually found and married that tiny percent of person that has such small trivial flaws and they are genuinely so happy, that they live to make it up to that person for being so perfect.
  2. God tells us to support our husbands 100% as the head of the household. They dare not speak ill of their other half, especially in questionable company.
  3. They simply do not use social media to vent. Period. Fair enough.

Again, I am very much apart of the first group, and they have A LOT to say. The groups I am apart of are a safe place to cry, laugh, ask for advice, or simply just vent about what frustrates us to others that not only understand, but can validate our frustrations. The railroad exasperates every domestic dispute.

There are spouses out there that are perfect, but most are not. I am nowhere near being perfect. But to women, both working or staying home, that fight this unfair battle of equality within the walls of their home. This seems to be a theme of a lot of women I talk to. Smart, educated, strong women. Every person deserves respect but most of all, married people deserve respect for each other. They married forever, and that is far too long to spend feeling unequal, and dependant. It is okay to be financially dependant on someone else, but not to the point where one feels completely helpless without the other.

A lot of times, we are expected to hold things down at home 24/7 while the other person is sleeping in a silent hotel, free of responsibilities, or little people that constantly fight you over the smallest things like putting their shoes on EVERY.SINGLE.MORNING!!! And then, some come home and expect it to continue. Yes, they they brought home the bacon while they slept peacefully in that hotel, but when one has kids, there is no peace. lol

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What I really want to say to you, the one reading this waiting for your RR to come or go, is that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy with your RR. You jumped into this life with them with the intent to get through the hard stuff, and to make each other better people. You deserve to be respected. You are not dumb, useless, horrible, a bitch, or insufferable. You might be a little crazy, because I don’t know one of us that isn’t just a little batty. But getting through this is not beyond the two of you. You just both have to agree to keep working on it, and only give up when you know you’ve reached your limit.

Encourage other RR spouses to join these groups. Please for the love of everything read the pinned posts of the rules and expectations of the page before you post a single thing. All groups are different. Some allow gratuitous cursing, others do not allow it at all.  Find one that suits you and cling to that tribe.

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Lastly, I will leave you with this. Domestic violence is NOT okay. Emotional abuse is NOT okay. My best friend was murdered Christmas Morning 2010 while I was away at war. If you are unsure if you need assistance you can read HERE for Six Facts about domestic violence.

 

I’m Writing a New Book

I know how much most everyone LOOOVES Apparent Power and Valerie’s journey, but I am taking a much needed break from my first loves. I have decided to write a dark paranormal story and exercise what I learned from the Ghost Town Writer’s Retreat a couple of weeks ago. Needless to say, it is nothing like what I have written to date.

I came upon this idea in bed when I got the vision for the opening scene. It is horrifying and beautiful and creepy. Aside from that, I have a basic idea of how this will play out, but not too sure exactly what the story will hold. Last night I thought about it so much, I started to creep myself out.

Like Apparent Power, Cam and Neph (a working title) will be available in its very rough stages on ChapterBuzz.com. This will probably be my subject matter for the October 10,000 word challenge as well as my first NaNoWriMo entry.

All feedback is appreciated.

Cam and Neph is an Adult Paranormal novel about a brother and sister that are demi-demon/demi-angel twins. During birth, each were touched by the other transferring a small amount of the opposite qualities to the other. The demon holds a little light; the angel holds a little darkness. This is how their story begins.

She moaned, shook, and rolled to her left and right in the pitch black. Lying on the cold, dank concrete in a basement, her swollen abdomen contracted. Black tar poured onto the floor, covering the red inked pentagram drawing that she lay on. The girl’s legs opened wide and her moan escalated to a scream of excruciating pain. From her birth canal came both light and darkness. Louder her scream grew until the light and dark burst from between her thighs.

The light filled most of the room, banishing the damp cold and mildew from what it touched. The cherub she birthed rose into the air and stretched its thick baby arms and legs. Small lips parted into a yawn and then to a smile as it looked down at its surrogate. The girl lay motionless staring at the tiny baby with wings that radiated purity, warmth, and light. The girl raised her hand to it as a tear fell from the corner of her eye in awe and fear of it.

A black liquid leaked from her womb. In the dark pool lay a ball of thin limbs, a scant torso and a head too large in proportion to the tiny black body. Instead of a cry, a hoarse screech came from the ugly being on the floor. Many arms reached from a still dark corner of the room, clawing toward the mass, grabbing arms, legs, and pulling the defiled fetus into the darkness with them. Light extended to the corner and the dark beings were banished from the room, but not before the light touched the new demon’s right knee, paling the once black surface. Then it disappeared to the place where the others hide. The black liquid began to boil on the ground, fighting against the light. It bubbled and popped in its turbulence. When touched by the light, it splashed into the air, licking the cherub on its right knee, leaving a dark mark where the skin had once been pale.

Light prevailed against the dark, cleansing the floor of the black tarry-like fluid, the pentagram faded, even dirt held no place. The cherub reached back and lifted the girl from the floor. Water and light enveloped her, cleansing her body and soul of the treachery done to her for this purpose. She was wrapped in a white cloth and lowered gently to the ground, purified and made anew. The angelic creature lowered as well, into the girls arms. Its wings faded and he nestled against the girl’s breast. The light faded into a dim glow of morning. The girl was a mother. The once cherub, a helpless babe with a dark mark on his right knee.

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Weird Dreams

Some things that comes with a creative mind are crazy dreams. In the light of recent lamentatious posts, I feel a good laugh is far overdue. This dream is going to give away my age.

Soooo… I’m in a house next door to my old home in Louisiana that I have not lived since 1999. I’m in the living room with all five Backstreet Boys (I laughed when I typed that out). Anyway, they are dancing around me trying to seduce me with their harmonies, and sexy dance moves and I am singing along playing hard to get (think every single ’90s pop music video with a ton of black and red pleather).

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Anyway, so it’s over and AJ McLean (oh I’ve had the hots for him since I was 13) propositions me for casual sex. I laugh in his face and say no because I’m like married. So he takes some other girl to a back room and I leave because gross.

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Anyway, I kept thinking about the whole song and dance scene all morning and laughing because that pretty much sums up my every pubescent daydream. Bieber has nothing on grown men. Now if you don’t mind, I think I will spend the day looking at old Tiger Beats on the interwebs. CHEERS!

I’m just sitting on the fence.

 

 

There has been a lot of fence sitting happening in my life. With it, comes general unrest. I usually pride myself in taking decisive actions with measured outcomes, but it seems that I have found myself in a sort of limbo that I cannot seem to choose my way out of.

I am not a quitter. I am not one to be pushed around or settle for less than a human deserves. So what does one say in the face of promises made when the real work is out of your hands? Sure there are things I can do to influence my situation, to compromise, but I am finding year after year that the compromise only works when the parties involved follow through. I also feel like people trudge the trenches of far worse things and come out alive and maybe happier.

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So now what? I wait. I wait and see, which absolutely tears at my being. I continue my day like everything is fine and well and wait to see if 1. Something changes or 2. I can handle the same cycle of events another year.

Subsequently, my writing will take a back burner so I can focus more closely on things that secretly got out of hand. Maybe I will not even blog until I am able to get out of this funk, as I am not comfortable letting my mind wander further than work and kids.

via Daily Word Prompt 181 “Fence” — All About Writing and more

About the Con: Georgetown Writers Retreat

She does a much better job capturing the essence of the retreat. It was fun being in your “handful” Katy 🙂

Katy L. Wood

Ghost Town Blog Header

The first time I heard about the Ghost Town Writer’s Retreat in Georgetown Colorado was at the Hex Publishers booth at DINK Denver back in April 2017. As someone who grew up on Art Bell and the Twilight Zone, any mention of anything remotely spooky gets my attention immediately. So a ghost town themed writing retreat in my home state? And it was affordable? I was all in. Went home and snapped up a weekend pass the second I got my next paycheck and eagerly awaited the retreat.

About a month before the convention Mike contacted me and asked if I’d be willing to put together the convention program. I said sure, why not. It was a fun little project that involved delving into historical photo archives, doing some research on Georgetown, and digging up a lot of horror themed bits of vector art. We ended up with over 30…

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