Author Archives: Kirsten

Booking Through Thursdays. Mama don’t take my e-reader away.

Posted on by

Mama don’t take my e-reader away.

Today’s BTT prompt:

E-readers like the Kindle and iPad are sweeping the nation … do you have one? Do you like it? Do you find it changes your reading/buying habits? If you don’t have one, do you plan to?

Yes, I do have one — I have a Kindle.

My dad gave it to me for Christmas. And to be honest, I was skeptical at first, but now I LOVE it.

I love the way I can carry an entire library around in a tiny little box. I’m something of a minimalist — I don’t like to collect a lot of “stuff” — books are an exception, but there are many books I want to read but not necessarily own in hard copy. My Kindle lets me do that.

I love that I can sample — or buy — a book within seconds of learning about it. No more having to keep lists of books I want to check out — and then having to hunt for them in traditional bookstores. Order them if they weren’t in stock . . .

And yes, my Kindle has changed my reading habits. I am reading more, because now I always have a book at arm’s length that I’m interested in continuing.

Of course, as a writer, I’m a bit giddy at the fact that I can now also publish novels myself for other people to read. But that’s a whole other story ;-)

Teaser Tuesdays: a rare thing in Podunk

Posted on by

It’s that time again — and here’s the prompt!

  • Grab your current read
  • Open to a random page
  • Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
  • BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
  • Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

And here’s mine:

So I piled all the money back in the basket and set it aside. It was about then that we heard police sirens, which is a pretty rare thing in Podunk, so we ran to the window and saw Lawnmower’s old rusty Camaro speed by and right behind it was a police car, almost certainly McNutt, and he zoomed by too.

The book is The Movie, by Bosley Gravel, who IMHO is a writer you Should Be Watching. And I’m not just saying that to be nice, Mr. Gravel.

 

Musing Mondays, Cannot Tell a Lie

Posted on by

Musing Mondays from Should be ReadingToday’s Musing Mondays prompt:

Other than for school, do you read books to learn how to do something? What was/were the topic(s)?

There are a several types of how-to books I read from time to time.

I sometimes pick up books on writing. The most recent standout is Michael Moorcock: Death is No Obstacle, which is a transcript of an interview of Moorcock by Colin Greenland. It’s an opportunity to spend some time with a writer who truly “gets it,” a real gem of a book.

I sometimes read books on marketing and PR. In this category I recommend Book Yourself Solid by Michael Port, a great book for anyone who sells services or intangibles.

I also read books on consciousness/metaphysics which, loosely speaking, might qualify as how-to books. But since I have yet to, yanno, actually bend a spoon with my mind or something I hesitate to recommend any of them. But I’ll be sure to update this post the SECOND I succeed :-D

Thanks for stopping by! And if you need ideas for your To Be Read pile, please check out my novels in the sidebar.

NaNoWriMo is here!!!

Posted on by

Set my alarm for 5 a.m. cuz if I don’t make extra time for this in the morning no way am I going to keep up :-)

Here’s my opening sentence. YES it’s rough — it’s supposed to be! But I don’t care, I’m so excited :-)

Most suppose golf is about life, not death—it is, after all, supremely difficult to manage a golf shot while dead—but death had been very much on the minds of the members of Crumbling Bluffs County Club the past few weeks, ever since Sly Burbank’s body had been found off to the side of the 4th fairway. And it was on their minds that night in particular, because they’d learned, that night, the results from the coroner’s inquest.

NaNo on, dudes!!!!!!!!!!

SampleSunday. From Can Job…

Posted on by

Poor Taylor. Her mother got her a PR job at Diptych Corporation, and she’s definitely in over her head . . .

__________________________________

“Taylor.” Basil wet his lips. “We should probably get together right after this. Are you free?”

Taylor nodded.

“Good. Meet me in my office. We have a lot to do. If you need lunch, we’ll order up from the cafeteria. I don’t usually eat lunch.”

She  nodded again.

The meeting dragged on.

Taylor’s notepad filled with scribbles. Hire photographer for press kit photos, check with corporate communications on list of press contacts, check with corporate communications on list of analysts, tradeshow back wall/customer quotes? She smiled at everyone and nodded her head until her neck ached. Fake it fake it fake it.

Finally it was over.

Everybody stood up.

“See you in a few minutes,” Basil reminded her as they were leaving.

“Sure thing.”

She turned toward her cubicle.

“Hey, protest girl.” It was Miles. He’d caught up with her and was speaking now just above a whisper, his lips close to her ear. “Blow him off.”

“I can’t blow him off. You heard Darryl.”

“Yeah. Darryl’s an idiot, too. But I’m telling you. Baz is going to dump his entire job onto you. He’s a lazy f**k and he’s spotted a sucker. That would be you.”

“Thanks, you’re a gem yourself. What are you even doing here? I didn’t think anarchists stooped to working for multi-national corporations.”

“This isn’t a job, it’s an infiltration.” He grinned at her. Ouch. He was very cute. His eyes were hazel in the middle and brown around the edges, and his hair curled out at the tops of his ears.

She looked away.

They were at her cubicle. She stepped inside and hesitated. She should be doing something, getting something, but what was there to get? Maybe . . . another pen.

Miles stood at the cubicle entrance, watching, seeing too much.

Taylor rounded her desk and opened the top drawer.

Miles stood aside to let her back out into the aisle. Aisle. Really a passageway, a beige fabric alley formed by the walls of her neighbor’s cubes.

She hesitated again.

“That way,” Miles pointed. “Turn left at the copier.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She went on to meet her fate . . .

_______________________________________

Want to read more? Click here to buy a copy of Can Job.

FridayFlash: Costume

Posted on by

Costume, a Halloween short story“Jeebus. Again?”

The girl was swaying slightly.

“Hey sexy. Vampire. Give the kiddies their candy won’t you please?”

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzt. Sean could barely hear the doorbell over the music, the ruckus of everyone talking.

Couldn’t they just ignore it?

“There.” She pointed at a candy bowl on the floor next to the door. The skin of her arm where it thrust out of the shiny black of her dress sleeve was painted, silvery white slashed with long drizzles of red — he looked at her again as he grabbed a handful of candy. Her face was painted white, too. But his eyes weren’t on her face. They’d dropped lower, to the black lace gathered in ruffles at her bodice . . .

“Hey sexy yourself,” he said. “What did you say you were supposed to be?”

“I’m Death’s Bridesmaid.” She giggled, swaying.

“I liiiiike.”  He grinned at her, a leering sloppy grin. He was drunk, too. They all were. They’d started early.

The door stuck a little but he yanked it open finally. Trio of kids stood on the step looking up at him expectantly. A pirate. A gremliny-looking thing. A Harry Potter. Lit by the porch light against the odd quiet of the dark night behind them.

“Trick or treat.”

Sean dripped a bit of candy into three orange pumpkin-shaped buckets.

Three “thank you’s,” polite, not quite in chorus. But Sean barely heard them — he was thinking about the girl, he slammed the door clumsily while the kids were still standing there, in a hurry to get to her. Before someone else did.

Metallica playing now. Sean mouthed the words as he weaved through the party, looking for her.

‘Cause we hunt you down without mercy
Hunt you down all nightmare long

Dimly, through the music and the laughing and the screeching he thought he heard the doorbell again but this time he did ignore it.

Stupid kids. Babies. Think Halloween is about candy. Ha.

Someone handed him a bottle of Grey Goose as he pushed by a skeleton and another vampire — not as good a costume as his, not by a long shot — he grinned and tipped the bottle to his mouth.

Where was she where was she?

There! With another girl, store-bought French maid costume. Also hot. Yowsa. How to choose how to choose .  .  . he sidled up to Death’s Bridesmaid, pretended to join their nonesense chitchat, his hunch was right, she was into him. Into him. Booyah. Touching his arm, laughing, sexy sideways looks.

The feeling, he knew that feeling, I’m gonna get me some —

Pause in the music. Album over . . .

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.

Death’s Bridesmaid groaned, lost her balance, fell into Sean. “They’re baaack,” she slurred. “Be a good vampire and go feed the kiddies for me –”

He hesitated. Annoyed. But the music wasn’t back on yet and the doorbell buzzed again.

“Don’t move,” he said to her and wove back through the packed room and yanked the door open.

He started a bit when he saw her. He guessed it was a her. A little girl — had to be, but yowsa that was a good costume, nothing cutesy about that, that black hair was freaky, tangled like that —

“What took you so long?” The little girls eyes were narrowed, fixed on his.

He stared. “Nice, uh, costume.”

He held out a handful of candy.

She didn’t move. “You haven’t been answering the door,” she said.

It was a little girl’s voice. He relaxed a bit. “The music’s kinda loud. Hard to hear.” He moved his hand up and down a bit to remind her to take the candy. Get this over with.

But the little girl didn’t move.

“That’s not the reason.”

Damn it, this wasn’t nice. Not nice at all. “Look. You want your candy or not.”

She just looked at him. Ew. Creepy.

Creepy.

Screw it.

He had better things to do than deal with a six year old’s temper tantrum.

He shut the door, left her there on the step. No candy for you, you little —

Damn. Where was I . . .

Where is that vodka . . . and that girl . . .

He found her, finally, on the floor, behind the bed where they’d all piled their coats. She was half passed out but roused herself when she felt him kissing her, began kissing him back, eager, he stroked her neck then bit it, she moaned, he slid his hand down her neck to the top of her costume —

That was weird. He couldn’t get his hand inside her costume.

“Ow,” she said. “Ow, stop it, you’re hurting me.”

“Sorry.” He pulled at the shoulder of her dress — it wouldn’t —

“OUCH.” She sat up now, her eyes still unfocused, her head lolling slightly. “That HURTS.”

What?

“It’s stuck,” he said. “Your dress is, like — stuck to you.”

She’d begun pulling at it herself.

“OW!” She said. “Ow, it hurts — ow!” She started crying. “OW!”

He stared at her pulling at her dress.

And then he had a horrible thought.

A horrible thought.

And he looked down at his sleeve.

The long satiny sleeve of his shirt, the vampire shirt —

He touched the cuff.

And realized as he touched it that something was very very wrong.

And he cried out, grabbed the edge of the cuff and pulled but it was fused to his skin, it hurt to pull the sharp pain and he cried out again and then heard around him that nobody was laughing any more, they were screaming all screaming, screaming and their screams were joined with his own, the loudest screaming in his ears his own scream

Booking Through Thursdays. Wake Up!

Posted on by

This week’s prompt:

What’s the hardest/most challenging book you’ve ever read? Was it worth the effort? Did you read it by choice or was it an assignment/obligation?

Didn’t have to think hard about this one — it was James Joyce’s Ulysses.

And I read it by accident.

I read voraciously as a kid, and it must have been summer, because it was mostly during the summer that I used to mine the Oxford town library for things to read.

And I ended up taking home this enormous book, probably because the title seemed vaguely familiar . . . and yes, I read it. Every word.

I couldn’t have been more than 12 or 13.

I had no idea what it was about. lol

I should probably re-read it . . .

(Side note — it just occurred to me —Finnegans Wake (koff) is one of those books where you don’t have to say the author’s name . . . like War and Peace or The Great Gatsby or Moby Dick . . . I wonder if there are any books written in the last 20 years that are that much a part of the lexicon?)

Nanowrimo. What’s a realistic time commitment?

Posted on by

What’s a realistic time commitment?

To get to 50,000 words in 30 days, you have to produce an average of 1,667 words every day. No question, NaNoWriMo requires a time commitment! The question is, how much?

I know about how fast I write for the day job, but for that I edit as I go — which is a NaNoWriMo No-No.

So I decided to get a quick reality check — I posted a question on the NaNoWriMo forums to ask veterans how much time they typically need to keep pace with that 1,667/day output rate.

Click the link to read peoples’ answers, but here’s my takeaway:

  • Most people should figure to set aside about 2 hours a day writing time. But note the caveats below!
  • There’s a huge variation in word production speed! Some of the fastest can churn out 2,000 words/hour. The slowest do 500/hour or less. It might be a good idea to run a “test” on your own writing speed before Nov. 1 so you know about how fast you can write.
  • People don’t always write at the same speed. Sometimes the words flow quickly. Other times they don’t. Don’t be surprised if your writing speed is slower at times–and you might want to set aside some extra chunks of time to “catch up” afterward if you hit a slow period.

One last thing: writing time is only one piece of the time commitment. You may also need some planning/thinking-about-the-novel time. I know I write much faster when I have a map in my head of where I’m going . . .

Personally, I’m going to get up early the entire month of November in order to make sure I have extra time I’ll need to keep pace. After all, who needs sleep? ;-)