Friday, June 25, 2010
Going away...
Folks, I have updated my blog and am now going to be posting exclusively to the blog at www.tlhaddix.com. Just click on the blog link that is on the main page, and you'll find me there. If you are following this blog, hopefully that will transfer (if the internet gremlins are busy elsewhere). Please let me know if you have issues getting the blog by emailing me through the website. Thanks for reading!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Crawling into the hole
For some reason, writing book two has been like pulling eye teeth for me. I can't seem to get into the groove of writing, and with a hard deadline fast approaching, this is starting to wear on me. As I was driving around today doing some errands, I was thinking about the next few chapters that have to be written, and it occurred to me that I might be putting off writing this next section because of where I have to go with it mentally.
In the first book, Secrets in the Shadows, there were certainly dark passages but, for the most part, the characters didn't fall inside that darkness for an extended period. Book two is completely different. In 'Under the Moon's Shadow', some very bad things - traumatic things - happen to the heroine. She goes through some very rough trials emotionally and physically, and in order to accurately represent the pain, anger and disillusionment she experiences, I have to be able to go down that rabbit hole with her. Normally I don't think I would have an issue doing that, but I just managed to crawl out of that miasma of depression and anger myself. I have no desire to go back and visit so soon. Without going into tremendous detail, I had a very painful change, a loss, in my family unit last summer, and it sent me reeling. It was something that was completely unexpected, and I was unprepared to deal with it. Thank God for my husband and three close friends who patiently saw me through it and supported me. In any event, I don't think I really started pulling myself out of the mire until around Easter, and things just were better one day. I was driving down the road listening to the Foo Fighters' "Times Like These" and it occurred to me that the song was right on. The lyric goes "It's times like these, you learn to live again" and though I had listened to that song hundreds of times, I heard it that day differently than I had before. I realized then that everything would be okay, and I was so happy to finally be able to move past my anger and grief and return once again to the cheerful, somewhat optimistic person I normally am. Now, facing these next few chapters, I'm not looking forward to revisiting that place, those emotions. I know I have to though, if I want this book to be as real and believable as it should be.
Part of the reason I write is to share experiences with people and hopefully help them see a different perspective, a different way of looking at similar problems they might be having. Okay, hopefully none of my readers have had shops vandalized or have been chased by crazed family members, but I know the emotional issues my characters deal with are issues that affect thousands, if not millions of people, every day. If I can get a message through to one person who is suffering similarly, and that message changes that person's life for the better, then I've done my job. That is why it is so important to me to get it right, to present this turmoil in a realistic way and have the characters deal with issues realistically.
I suppose when it is all said and done, fear is what is holding me back - the fear that if I crawl into the hole with my heroine, I won't be able to pull us back out. It is an irrational fear - I know intellectually that I'll be safe. Now I just have to convince my emotional self that it is so.
In the first book, Secrets in the Shadows, there were certainly dark passages but, for the most part, the characters didn't fall inside that darkness for an extended period. Book two is completely different. In 'Under the Moon's Shadow', some very bad things - traumatic things - happen to the heroine. She goes through some very rough trials emotionally and physically, and in order to accurately represent the pain, anger and disillusionment she experiences, I have to be able to go down that rabbit hole with her. Normally I don't think I would have an issue doing that, but I just managed to crawl out of that miasma of depression and anger myself. I have no desire to go back and visit so soon. Without going into tremendous detail, I had a very painful change, a loss, in my family unit last summer, and it sent me reeling. It was something that was completely unexpected, and I was unprepared to deal with it. Thank God for my husband and three close friends who patiently saw me through it and supported me. In any event, I don't think I really started pulling myself out of the mire until around Easter, and things just were better one day. I was driving down the road listening to the Foo Fighters' "Times Like These" and it occurred to me that the song was right on. The lyric goes "It's times like these, you learn to live again" and though I had listened to that song hundreds of times, I heard it that day differently than I had before. I realized then that everything would be okay, and I was so happy to finally be able to move past my anger and grief and return once again to the cheerful, somewhat optimistic person I normally am. Now, facing these next few chapters, I'm not looking forward to revisiting that place, those emotions. I know I have to though, if I want this book to be as real and believable as it should be.
Part of the reason I write is to share experiences with people and hopefully help them see a different perspective, a different way of looking at similar problems they might be having. Okay, hopefully none of my readers have had shops vandalized or have been chased by crazed family members, but I know the emotional issues my characters deal with are issues that affect thousands, if not millions of people, every day. If I can get a message through to one person who is suffering similarly, and that message changes that person's life for the better, then I've done my job. That is why it is so important to me to get it right, to present this turmoil in a realistic way and have the characters deal with issues realistically.
I suppose when it is all said and done, fear is what is holding me back - the fear that if I crawl into the hole with my heroine, I won't be able to pull us back out. It is an irrational fear - I know intellectually that I'll be safe. Now I just have to convince my emotional self that it is so.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
A new free short story - Granny Theft Auto
Here's a sneak peek at my latest short offering, Granny Theft Auto. For those of you who've read Secrets In The Shadows, some of the names may be familiar. You can find this at Smashwords at this link: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/16885 and it is absolutely FREE. Happy reading!
Granny Theft Auto
by T. L. Haddix
Copyright 2010
It wasn’t the first time she had stolen something, but it was by far her most serious offense. When she was a little girl, the much-neglected youngest of six children, it had been her way of getting attention. As Reba Cooper stood on the sidewalk that day admiring one of the shiny, new Smart cars the city of Leroy had purchased for its tiny police force, she smiled. The shape of the car reminded her of a baby’s sneaker and, loaded with gadgets, gizmos and antennae as this model was, more than anything else in the world it put her in mind of those remote-controlled cars her son had loved so much when he was a child. She eased up to stand beside the car, looking around before reaching one tentative hand out and running it down the curve of the frame along the windshield. Wistfully, she thought of all the places she could go with her own vehicle. It was a small car, hardly noticeable, she told herself, and as she fantasized about the adventures she could have in a car like this one, she started to get that tingle creeping up her spine. Reba sucked in a breath, hardly daring to breathe as the possibility solidified into wicked thought, and her lips turned up into a naughty smile. She almost dismissed the idea out of hand but at the last moment something stopped her, and before she knew it, she was glancing around carefully to see if anyone was watching. The car itself was parked just inside an alley across from the courthouse, out of the direct line of sight, windows rolled down. Reba could see that the keys were in the ignition, and with a tiny twinge of guilt, she decided that it wouldn’t hurt anything to just sit down in the car for a moment or two.
She carefully lifted the door handle and opened the door, turning her body casually and easing down into the driver’s seat. Sitting her purse in the passenger seat, she closed the driver’s door and looked around the passenger cabin with all the joy of a child who had been taken into a toy store for the first time. There were all kinds of buttons, gadgets, bells and whistles. Reba touched them lightly, carefully, not wanting to accidentally push anything. She jumped as the police radio crackled and an unintelligible voice spoke, apparently the dispatcher looking for the driver of the car she was sitting in. She reached for her purse, ready to jump out of the car, but as a second voice came over the radio she relaxed, smiling. The second voice had been clear, and had belonged to Officer Gary Collins who, conveniently, told the dispatcher that he was having lunch and would be several more minutes before he could respond to the Mayor’s call. Reba glanced at her watch and saw that she had time to take the little car for a drive if she wanted, and oh, how badly she wanted.
Granny Theft Auto
by T. L. Haddix
Copyright 2010
It wasn’t the first time she had stolen something, but it was by far her most serious offense. When she was a little girl, the much-neglected youngest of six children, it had been her way of getting attention. As Reba Cooper stood on the sidewalk that day admiring one of the shiny, new Smart cars the city of Leroy had purchased for its tiny police force, she smiled. The shape of the car reminded her of a baby’s sneaker and, loaded with gadgets, gizmos and antennae as this model was, more than anything else in the world it put her in mind of those remote-controlled cars her son had loved so much when he was a child. She eased up to stand beside the car, looking around before reaching one tentative hand out and running it down the curve of the frame along the windshield. Wistfully, she thought of all the places she could go with her own vehicle. It was a small car, hardly noticeable, she told herself, and as she fantasized about the adventures she could have in a car like this one, she started to get that tingle creeping up her spine. Reba sucked in a breath, hardly daring to breathe as the possibility solidified into wicked thought, and her lips turned up into a naughty smile. She almost dismissed the idea out of hand but at the last moment something stopped her, and before she knew it, she was glancing around carefully to see if anyone was watching. The car itself was parked just inside an alley across from the courthouse, out of the direct line of sight, windows rolled down. Reba could see that the keys were in the ignition, and with a tiny twinge of guilt, she decided that it wouldn’t hurt anything to just sit down in the car for a moment or two.
She carefully lifted the door handle and opened the door, turning her body casually and easing down into the driver’s seat. Sitting her purse in the passenger seat, she closed the driver’s door and looked around the passenger cabin with all the joy of a child who had been taken into a toy store for the first time. There were all kinds of buttons, gadgets, bells and whistles. Reba touched them lightly, carefully, not wanting to accidentally push anything. She jumped as the police radio crackled and an unintelligible voice spoke, apparently the dispatcher looking for the driver of the car she was sitting in. She reached for her purse, ready to jump out of the car, but as a second voice came over the radio she relaxed, smiling. The second voice had been clear, and had belonged to Officer Gary Collins who, conveniently, told the dispatcher that he was having lunch and would be several more minutes before he could respond to the Mayor’s call. Reba glanced at her watch and saw that she had time to take the little car for a drive if she wanted, and oh, how badly she wanted.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
It's a Small, Small World
My husband and I attended an author forum tonight - our first. It was held at Destination Booksellers in New Albany, Indiana, and featured three authors from Black Wyrm Publishing, a Louisville, Kentucky-based publisher. The evening’s topic was Characterization in Sci-Fi/Fantasy/Horror, and it was both enlightening and entertaining. There were five authors scheduled to attend, but due to illness only three were present. Those who were on hand for the discussion were Ian Harac, William Levy and Marge Fulton. Of the three, I was familiar with two, but not in the way one might assume.
A few weeks ago while at Grinny Possum, the friendliest yarn and fiber store in Southern Indiana, I had the opportunity to meet Mrs. Ian Harac and discuss writing with her. A very nice lady who has a phenomenal skill with all things yarn, she had mentioned her husband’s writing. I found it interesting, but as Sci-Fi is not my genre, I didn’t pursue his work. Imagine my surprise at finding out he was one of the featured authors at tonight’s forum!
The second author with whom I was familiar is Marge Fulton, although I cannot say I had read any of her works, either. Marge is not a native but has, for the past 20 years, lived in my hometown of Hazard, Kentucky. She is a prolific artist, and her first published work, “All Roads Lead to Hazard” had been mentioned on a couple of forums from the region that I frequent. Her latest book, “The Holler”, is a compilation of horror short stories based in Appalachia. It is now on my ‘to be read’ list, and I look forward to delving into it.
I had not heard of Mr. William Levy, and since his work is mainly Sci-Fi, I probably won’t read his works, but I did find him a very interesting, articulate speaker, and found several of the points he made this evening to be worthy of note.
This was the first time we had set foot in Destinations, and I must say I was impressed. It was by no means a fly-by-night operation. It was small, yes, but had an amazing selection of books, as well as a great café in the back, which I do not believe serves food any more but has an extensive selection of drinks available. The shop itself was clean, neat and cozy, and definitely a place I will visit in the future. I’ve been meaning to reach out to them and ask if they would like to carry Secrets, but I’ve been intimidated by the thought. I won’t be quite so hesitant now, although it will still take a little bit of courage to take that step.
I realize after evenings like this just how much I’ve missed out on by staying in the house most of the time. I’m not a social butterfly by any far stretch of the imagination and my husband makes me look positively extroverted, but I do enjoy events such as the one we attended this evening. I think we need such interactions for growth, and folks, my growth is stunted! Some of the reclusiveness has been intentional, some has not, but one of the lessons I took away from this event was that I have to get out there, not just online but in the real world, and expand my horizons. As my husband likes to remind me, not many people are flesh-eating zombies, and if we do run into one, we can probably out run them.
A few weeks ago while at Grinny Possum, the friendliest yarn and fiber store in Southern Indiana, I had the opportunity to meet Mrs. Ian Harac and discuss writing with her. A very nice lady who has a phenomenal skill with all things yarn, she had mentioned her husband’s writing. I found it interesting, but as Sci-Fi is not my genre, I didn’t pursue his work. Imagine my surprise at finding out he was one of the featured authors at tonight’s forum!
The second author with whom I was familiar is Marge Fulton, although I cannot say I had read any of her works, either. Marge is not a native but has, for the past 20 years, lived in my hometown of Hazard, Kentucky. She is a prolific artist, and her first published work, “All Roads Lead to Hazard” had been mentioned on a couple of forums from the region that I frequent. Her latest book, “The Holler”, is a compilation of horror short stories based in Appalachia. It is now on my ‘to be read’ list, and I look forward to delving into it.
I had not heard of Mr. William Levy, and since his work is mainly Sci-Fi, I probably won’t read his works, but I did find him a very interesting, articulate speaker, and found several of the points he made this evening to be worthy of note.
This was the first time we had set foot in Destinations, and I must say I was impressed. It was by no means a fly-by-night operation. It was small, yes, but had an amazing selection of books, as well as a great café in the back, which I do not believe serves food any more but has an extensive selection of drinks available. The shop itself was clean, neat and cozy, and definitely a place I will visit in the future. I’ve been meaning to reach out to them and ask if they would like to carry Secrets, but I’ve been intimidated by the thought. I won’t be quite so hesitant now, although it will still take a little bit of courage to take that step.
I realize after evenings like this just how much I’ve missed out on by staying in the house most of the time. I’m not a social butterfly by any far stretch of the imagination and my husband makes me look positively extroverted, but I do enjoy events such as the one we attended this evening. I think we need such interactions for growth, and folks, my growth is stunted! Some of the reclusiveness has been intentional, some has not, but one of the lessons I took away from this event was that I have to get out there, not just online but in the real world, and expand my horizons. As my husband likes to remind me, not many people are flesh-eating zombies, and if we do run into one, we can probably out run them.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Balance
I haven’t posted in a while. We’ve been busy just enjoying the weather and not having to kill ourselves to get the house ready to put on the market. I’ve been reading a lot lately, and in all honesty, I should really be writing instead. Normally I would read 3-5 books per week, but since I started writing, I’ve tried to not read as much so that I wouldn’t lose track of my own thoughts. However, reading has been a lifelong habit, and I’m finding it hard to set that aside right now. During the last two months of working on ‘Secrets In The Shadows’, I probably only read about 10 books. I guess I’m making up for lost time now. Add to the desire to read that book two is just giving me fits and it does not add up to be a picture of productivity.
The learning process continues, and I’m finding that taking time each day for promotion and networking is as time-consuming as the actual writing process. As I go on this path, I am certain that I will learn better time management skills, so I’m not going to flog myself overmuch right now. That is definitely one of the more positive aspects of traditional publishing that I can see - having someone to do promotion for the author. I’m enjoying it, though - making the connections, joining discussions. It’s educational and fun, and I’m learning the tricks of the trade, so to speak.
I keep coming across folks who have read SITS, and I’ve still yet to encounter someone who didn’t like it. I can also say with complete honesty that 99% of the people who’ve read it are looking forward to book two. I am eager, as well - I don’t know where Beth and Ethan are going to end up, although I have an idea of where I’d like to see them, and I’m anxious to see how their journey ends. Will they end up together or not? I don’t know at this point. Their relationship certainly has not been an easy one, but hopefully they will end up happy…whomever they end up with.
I must say that, although I’ve not spent nearly as much time writing lately as I should, the ideas do keep coming. I think part of the problem with book two is that I spent too much time while writing SITS thinking about book two and, having lived with these characters for the better part of a year now, I’m a little bored and ready to move on. It’s a bit of a catch-22 situation - because I’m tired I’m having trouble focusing on the storyline, and the story won’t be finished and I can’t move on until I write it.
There is a balance to be found in this job - and I do think of it as a job, one that I love doing. Balancing the time used to create and promote, balancing how far I delve into the next story before I finish the one I’m working on…I’ve set some high goals for myself, and I’m satisfied that I can accomplish them. Like everything else, however, it just takes time.
The learning process continues, and I’m finding that taking time each day for promotion and networking is as time-consuming as the actual writing process. As I go on this path, I am certain that I will learn better time management skills, so I’m not going to flog myself overmuch right now. That is definitely one of the more positive aspects of traditional publishing that I can see - having someone to do promotion for the author. I’m enjoying it, though - making the connections, joining discussions. It’s educational and fun, and I’m learning the tricks of the trade, so to speak.
I keep coming across folks who have read SITS, and I’ve still yet to encounter someone who didn’t like it. I can also say with complete honesty that 99% of the people who’ve read it are looking forward to book two. I am eager, as well - I don’t know where Beth and Ethan are going to end up, although I have an idea of where I’d like to see them, and I’m anxious to see how their journey ends. Will they end up together or not? I don’t know at this point. Their relationship certainly has not been an easy one, but hopefully they will end up happy…whomever they end up with.
I must say that, although I’ve not spent nearly as much time writing lately as I should, the ideas do keep coming. I think part of the problem with book two is that I spent too much time while writing SITS thinking about book two and, having lived with these characters for the better part of a year now, I’m a little bored and ready to move on. It’s a bit of a catch-22 situation - because I’m tired I’m having trouble focusing on the storyline, and the story won’t be finished and I can’t move on until I write it.
There is a balance to be found in this job - and I do think of it as a job, one that I love doing. Balancing the time used to create and promote, balancing how far I delve into the next story before I finish the one I’m working on…I’ve set some high goals for myself, and I’m satisfied that I can accomplish them. Like everything else, however, it just takes time.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Confluence
This is the first part to a short story that I wrote to be turned into a short comic book. My husband will take it and turn it into a comic book script and then one of our friends, Steven Doty, will take our words and make them into comic book art. As I'm not really sure when this will be published and it could be a while, I thought you might like to read part of Confluence now, though. The rest of the story can be found at Smashwords free of charge - just follow this link. http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/15921
Confluence
Morgan wouldn’t stay. I had known that since I met him and still I had to ask. I hated myself for that weakness but I couldn’t stop myself. He kept his back turned to me, shoulders stiff. As he settled his hat on his head, he turned so that I could see his jaw for just an instant. Rock-hard and clenched. He hadn’t wanted to be with me because he had known it would lead to this moment. Pulling his long coat off the rack, he sighed. He knew he had to turn one last time to look at me. To leave without a backwards glimpse was more than unforgivable - it was insulting, and Morgan was never insulting. I sat up on the bed, sheets pulled up around me as I waited for his goodbye. I was surprised to find there were no tears inside me - they were dried up, leaving an empty shell behind. I spoke first.
“You’ll never find what you’re looking for out there, Morgan. We both know that,” I told him. He turned at that and the hard, bleak stare he sent my way would have broken my heart if it hadn’t already been shattered. He stood at the door, ready to leave and unable to do so. He couldn’t speak because there were no words. Pulling the sheet loose and wrapping it around myself, I forced myself to get out of bed and go to him. I stood in front of him for a long minute before rising up on my toes and kissing him full on the mouth, a lingering, poignant kiss. We both knew there would be consequences for what we had done. His would be leaving his heart behind, a piece of his soul forever ripped out and left to wither. Mine would be the looks, the whispers, the outright stares and pointed fingers. I would hold my head high in public, cry in private, and he would die trying to drink away the memories. We were it for each other, and we both knew it. There would be no chance at happily ever after for us. There never had been. Not in this lifetime.
Morgan pulled me to his chest, a desperate and lonely gesture. Futile, because we both knew he had already let me go. Slowly the grip of his hands eased and he turned around. Opening the door, he walked through it and pulled it closed behind him. He never looked back.
Confluence
Morgan wouldn’t stay. I had known that since I met him and still I had to ask. I hated myself for that weakness but I couldn’t stop myself. He kept his back turned to me, shoulders stiff. As he settled his hat on his head, he turned so that I could see his jaw for just an instant. Rock-hard and clenched. He hadn’t wanted to be with me because he had known it would lead to this moment. Pulling his long coat off the rack, he sighed. He knew he had to turn one last time to look at me. To leave without a backwards glimpse was more than unforgivable - it was insulting, and Morgan was never insulting. I sat up on the bed, sheets pulled up around me as I waited for his goodbye. I was surprised to find there were no tears inside me - they were dried up, leaving an empty shell behind. I spoke first.
“You’ll never find what you’re looking for out there, Morgan. We both know that,” I told him. He turned at that and the hard, bleak stare he sent my way would have broken my heart if it hadn’t already been shattered. He stood at the door, ready to leave and unable to do so. He couldn’t speak because there were no words. Pulling the sheet loose and wrapping it around myself, I forced myself to get out of bed and go to him. I stood in front of him for a long minute before rising up on my toes and kissing him full on the mouth, a lingering, poignant kiss. We both knew there would be consequences for what we had done. His would be leaving his heart behind, a piece of his soul forever ripped out and left to wither. Mine would be the looks, the whispers, the outright stares and pointed fingers. I would hold my head high in public, cry in private, and he would die trying to drink away the memories. We were it for each other, and we both knew it. There would be no chance at happily ever after for us. There never had been. Not in this lifetime.
Morgan pulled me to his chest, a desperate and lonely gesture. Futile, because we both knew he had already let me go. Slowly the grip of his hands eased and he turned around. Opening the door, he walked through it and pulled it closed behind him. He never looked back.
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