Category Archives: writing novels

NaNoWriMo is here! And some other things.

Well, it sure has been awhile. Thank you for everyone who has stuck with me. This summer was the worst one in my life.

My mother died after spending 55 days in the hospital. Through a chain of circumstances, she died of blood poisoning, on August 14th.

My father could not deal with losing her and attempted suicide on Labor Day. I found him right after he fell unconscious (I have been living with my parents for about a year while dealing with a divorce). I got him to a hospital where he was saved. For a minute. He refused to eat or drink and came home on hospice. he died in our home with both my brother and I present on September 17th.

Their funerals were exactly a month apart. August 24 and September 24.

Now, NaNoWriMo is here and I am finally going to sit down and write. This will be the first time I have done this since my father’s funeral, and very little was done over the summer to begin with as I watched my mother get sick, get better, have a set back, then get better and finally fail.

I will be posting daily updates on word count as I begin to write WHITE DARKNESS, a standalone horror novel based, in part, on my time working at Toys R Us.

Fort those of you who are interested, my mother’s and father’s obituaries are link to the post.

Carol Mayo

Bill Mayo

Always,

Dawn

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Filed under author, growing, NaNoWriMo, writing, writing novels

Monday already? ACK! Chapter 1 of PROPHECY

Okay, I have to say, Marathon is going well so far. I posted my first chapter of PROPHECY in the past tense and it went over really well. I had 7 votes and 6 of them were ‘yes’, so I get to move on to my next chapter. I am goign to post the chapter as it was written for marathon here, and later this week will put up my revised version. Tell me what you think!

Chapter 1

The whispers were quiet as I slipped out the back door. For once, I didn’t have to worry about the siren call from the woods behind our house.

Momma was in the kitchen doing the dishes and humming her favorite song: Ode to Joy. She always claimed it made her feel like she was doing something exciting and dramatic instead of the mundane chore of cleaning up after Daddy and me.

I skipped over to Amos’ pen, thrilled to have a few minutes alone with the black and white hound. He jumped against the fence as I opened the lock with a clank. He bounded out of the kennel and knocked me to the ground, licking my face. His wet tongue tickled my face even as the fresh cut grass prickled my bare arms and legs. I giggled, but tried to be quiet. Momma didn’t like it when I went outside by myself. She always worried about something or other and made me feel nervous and awkward.

Her protective hovering made me feel like some impending doom was lurking nearby. It also made me feel like a freak. Other kids never had to suffer the over protectiveness of my Momma. After all, why should I have to hold her hand when I was just in the backyard?

But today, I was free, if only for a few minutes. Free to play with my dog and feel normal for a change.

Pushing Amos’ happy face to the side, I looked up at the beautiful white puffy clouds the floated through the sky. I smiled with pure joy at the day, the freedom, and the silence that came from the woods.

I struggled for a moment to get Amos off me, even though I knew my young body couldn’t hope to push the forty-pound dog to the side. Wagging his log, whip-like tail he backed off anyway. He was a good dog who always knew what I wanted even if I didn’t say a word.

“You’re a good boy, Amos.” I hugged him around his middle smelling the sun and his unique doggie scent. He never acted as if I was anything other than a seven-year old. He never treated me with kid gloves, nor as if I was about to do something a seven-year old shouldn’t.

He bounced away from me, acting like a puppy instead of an old dog, and I chased him around the yard.

Like a crash of thunder washing over me, the whispers began. The strange murmur from the trees just beyond the yard filled my senses.

Amos’ reacted instantly. He jumped in front of me and glared into the woods. His growling overwhelmed the whispers, but then they rose in volume and pitch. My dog’s ears pressed back tightly to his head and his body shook in anger or fear. He was the only one who ever heard the voices other than me. I tried to calm him by placing my hand on his back and murmuring nonsense words into his ear. Normally, that was enough to calm him down. This time he only tensed more and pressed his body back against me, causing me to stumble to my knees behind him.

I looked to the woods, trying to see why he refused to calm down, but they looked the same as they always did when the whispers began. Shadows under the trees grew longer despite the sunlight and moved in sensuous dances without benefit of the wind. The wooded area took on a dark menace.

Then the light dimmed and blackness crowded the puffy clouds from the blue sky. The yard darkened and a cold wind began to blow from the woods. My skin tingled with gooseflesh and I held tight to Amos, getting a small comfort from his warmth despite the racing of my heart.

My confused thoughts swept over me. I wanted to go to the trees, to follow the sounds to their source, but even more, I wanted to run back to the house and shut the noises out. The chaos in my mind froze my limbs and locked my mouth shut so I couldn’t even call for Momma, or to the woods, though I wanted to do both.

Words began to creep through the wind, words I heard not only with my ears but also with something deep inside of me. They touched my fear, yet they promised an approval I have never felt before. Absolute acceptance.

“Scottie, come to us.”

“It is your destiny.”

“We are as you are.”

“You will be treasured among us.”

“You are the child we have been waiting for.”

The words scared me but also intrigued me. They seemed to know how much I wanted to feel normal, to not be the freak my parents feared. The uniqueness, the intelligence, the almost adult in a child’s body, that worried my Momma and that my Daddy denied, felt cherished. And wanted. The feeling behind the words promised a future far greater than anyone would believe. It promised that I was different for a reason.

My muscles unlocked and I moved toward the calls.

Amos slid from my arms and threw himself on top of me, hurling me to the ground. Pain flared in my cheek where I landed but my eyes never left the woods. Amos’ growls and barks vibrated through me as I tried to shove him off me. His weight shifted slightly, brining his full weight down on my legs. With a surge of power, I pushed him hard and he fell off me with a whine. He struggled to his feet, but moved with a deliberate slowness that showed I had injured him in my escape. I wanted to comfort him, but I stumbled forward towards the woods instead. My stiff body fought against me, but step by step, I moved to the call.

With a painful sound Amos jumped at me again, teeth sinking into my shirt. He pulled me back, but I shrugged hard and felt my shirt rip, leaving only shreds in his teeth.

I broke into a shambling run, screaming inside to stop. I didn’t want to go into the dark woods, but my body refused to obey me. Amos limped in front of me again, but I threw him to the side, hearing a crack as he broke a rib when he landed. I looked at him; stride breaking as I rebelled at myself for causing him pain. I longed to go to him, to apologize to him, to help my faithful friend, but I couldn’t stop my legs from running faster to the trees and the voices that called me. I choked out a scream, partly for Amos, and partly for me.

Warm, familiar arms swept me up from behind. Entranced by the woods, I never heard Momma running for me. Amos’ attempts to slow me down gave her enough time to catch me. My own shout had alerted her that something was very wrong in the yard. The spell of the woods eased slightly as I smelled her perfume and felt her embrace, yet still I tried to pull away from her.

“Scottie, where do you think you are going? If I hadn’t heard you scream and Amos bark, I wouldn’t have known where you were!” Her voice strained to almost a shrillness that shocked me into looking at her. She clutched me close to her chest, and turned her body toward the house as I peered back at the woods. She jolted as she stepped into a small hole or something. The movement forced me to break eye contact with the calling words. Their power over me weakened further and I could breathe again.

“Momma, let me down. I want to go to the woods,” Words not my own escaped my lips as I looked into her beautiful chocolate brown eyes. Fighting her embrace, and myself, I turned myself so I could see the trees. Their powerful call washed over me again, filling me with unbelievable yearning.

Momma’s face clouded over, darker than the skies above as she looked deep into my eyes. “Why Scottie? Why would you leave me and go into the woods?” She tightened her grip around me so I felt like I was being crushed by a bear. Stumbling in her haste, she took several steps away from the trees and toward the backdoor.

“The trees, Momma they call to me. I want to go into them; I need to go into them.” The words forced themselves through my clenched teeth, lying and telling the truth in the same moment. The woods petrified me, but I wanted to be in them more than anything else in the world.

“Cherie, Scottie? Are you two out back?”

Momma’s breath whooshed out of her at the sound of my father’s voice. Her body started relaxing immediately and I could breathe again. I pushed against her, but only with half my strength. I didn’t want her to let me go, even though I wanted to be free.

“Jackson, we are back here!” Her stressed voice cracked, yet there was a measure of relief in it.

Daddy hurried around the corner of the house, his face set as though preparing for a fight. His golden hair shone in the sunlight and he looked like some avenging angel intent on protecting the poor mortals: Momma and me. Seeing no apparent danger, he slowed his pace but scanned the yard with eyes that missed nothing.

I wriggled and finally escaped from Momma, but instead of the woods, I ran to my Daddy. He could protect me. He could keep me from doing the thing I longed and hated to do.

Amos stopped growling when Daddy picked me up, but he didn’t stop looking at the trees.

“What are my two favorite people in the world doing this afternoon?” Daddy’s voice, warm as honey, did not show any anxiety, but he gently touched the rip in my shirt made by Amos’ teeth. His mouth tightened and he asked silent questions to Momma with a lifting of an eyebrow.

The whispers grabbed me with their power and I pushed hard away from Daddy who gave a surprised grunt, but didn’t let me go. From the corner of my eye, I saw him look down at me, though I focused my attention on the woods. The call from the trees all but overwhelmed me.

“So, little man, what have you been doing?” His false tone betrayed his anxiety, as did the tightening of his arms around me. “You and Amos been playing?”

Amos struggled to rise from the ground, whining softly. His eyes stared at the trees and he barked a sharp staccato sound then ended with a howl of pain. My heart felt like it broke. I did that to him. I hurt my dog.

I buried my face against Daddy’s chest, tears overflowing. Daddy lifted my chin with a finger.

“What’s been happening, son?” His serious tone forced words from my throat, words that sounded false even in my own ears.

“Daddy, Amos and I were playing, but I think I hurt him. I didn’t mean to, I was listening to the woods.” I cocked my head to the side, realizing that the calls had faded away. “They are quiet now, but Amos didn’t like them. He tried to keep me away from them.”

“And you hurt him?”

“Daddy, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to. He just wouldn’t let me go into the woods. Can you fix him up?”

Daddy frowned. “Well, I’m a doctor right? I’ll do what I can tonight and take him to the vet tomorrow. But why were you going in there?”

“The woods called to me. I wanted to walk under the green trees, smell the soil, and talk to the wind.”

A soft murmur arose from the trees again. I looked toward them and leaned away from Daddy’s body, transfixed by the music that tugged at my heart.

“Scottie, Scottie. SCOTTIE!” The sharpness in Daddy’s voice awakens me from my trance. I slowly looked up into his eyes, still half enthralled. He stared down at me, his forehead a severe line. I reached up a single hand and tried to smooth it away. He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him before he could begin.

“Daddy, don’t look so upset. I would be okay. The woods want me there.” I glanced back at the woods, and the siren call of the trees settled over me once again. “I would be fine.” I tried to climb down out of Daddy’s arms, wriggling and pushing with all my might. “I will be fine.” His arms tightened around me more as I reached toward the music. “I will be fine.”

He will never let me go. He and Momma don’t understand. I don’t understand. What is wrong with me? I want to stay with my parents. How can I want to run to the woods as well? The woods, they call me…call me…

Daddy looked over my head at Momma, where they exchanged a look they didn’t think I could see. I wished I could see inside their minds to know what they were thinking. Daddy’s arms shook with effort as he tried to keep me contained. Or maybe there was another reason, perhaps some hidden emotion. I stopped wriggling to get down, accepting I couldn’t get away, but still my voice whispered, “I will be okay.”

“That’s not the point, Scottie,” Momma said. “It’s not safe in the woods. Not safe at all. Especially not for a little boy.” Her voice trembled and sounded distant as though lost in a memory; one that scared her more than anything in her life.

Questions swirled through my mind.

What did she know about the woods? How could she think that I would be hurt there? Could she possibly hear the voices that called me? Did she know that I really belonged there and simply wanted to keep me to herself? Why would she keep me from my destiny? Is it really my destiny?

My parents were keeping something from me. They appeared too nervous, too scared about me going into the woods. Something must have been in there that they didn’t want me to see. Something they thought would hurt me, even though I knew better.

The question spilled out of my mouth.

“What do you mean? I know the woods will not hurt me. They told me so.”

“Okay, let’s go inside,” Daddy’s voice was hard and strained. The frown on his face would have made the fiercest animal run. It had the same effect on me.

“Let me down, Daddy, I can walk.” Although willing to go with my parents in order to learn what they knew, I couldn’t help but look back to the woods as the calls from them slowly faded into non-existence.

“Scottie, stop squirming!”

I stopped moving, but cowered as Daddy carried me into the house. What would he do with me once we were in there? He never raised his voice at me before, but this time…

“You will never go into those woods, Scottie. Never.” Momma’s voice cracked with fear as she choked back tears. I looked at her, afraid of her as well. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and soon I would know how wrong things could actually be.

She was right, though. I would never go into the woods, not of my own will,

But would my determination be enough to keep me away?

Always,

Dawn

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Who is the good guy, again? About protagonists

Okay, so I a, going through and relaying some things I have learned in my sabbatical from blog posting. And, boy, do I have a lot to go over! So we should really get started.

And what better place to start than with the protagonist?

I write paranormal works. No, I don’t do vampires. Or were-creatures. Or witches. Or anything you have seen before.

I created my own paranormal creature, and it was great. However, the key to the story is not really the creature or other antagonist. At least, not yet. You have to create a hero, or at least a protagonist.

What kind of protagonists are there? Well there are lots, but here are a few that cover the majority of them.

1) The average man (or woman) – This the guy or girl next door. Unfortunately for them (but great for us!) they have to deal with some sort of antagonist. In my case, a paranormal element. One thing: they get no powers to deal with it. They must rely on their wits, their smarts, and their courage. None of these characteristics are in abundance. Just the normal allotment. Somehow, they make do.

2) The reluctant one – “Supernatural? Problem? Craziness going on” i don’t deal with that stuff.” Uh oh. The protagonist doesn’t want to co-operate. They want nothing to do with the story. Well not until someone or something changes their mind. Then, well, maybe just this once they will get involved…

3) The hunter or the warrior –  This person fights the paranormal, or daily problem ALL THE TIME!  They are always willing to jump into the action and take charge. Think Xena: Warrior Princess. (a guilty pleasure to be sure!)

4) The newbie – “I don’t believe in this crap What? I have powers? Yikes!” This character usually starts out as an every-man, but quickly develops some sort of power needed to take charge and vanquish the enemy, whatever it may be. He knows just about nothing at the beginning and may be either slow or fast at learning, but learn he does.

5) The Super – This is someone born with or given great powers. They must learn how to use them, but they must defeat the antagonist before mastery. Think Harry Potter.

6) The experienced one – This is a character directly opposed to the newbie. She knows a lot about the world and has some power of her own. She is just looking for a fight. Van Helsing is a good example. (the character!)

Well, that about does it. Do you know any more? Go ahead and put them in the comments! I welcome them all.

Always,

Dawn

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Pillars of Writing

Okay, so today I want to talk about what makes a good novel, especially a thriller novel.

To begin with, it would help to define what a thriller novel can be.

A Thriller is a moral tale. Yep, you heard me right, a moral tale. Despite the negativity that is often applied to such a term, a moral tale is not a bad thing. The moral does not have to beat you over the head like the last 15 minutes of Happy Feet. It can be far more subtle than that. A good morality story teaches you about morals without you even being aware of it at the time. Let me give you an example. Who here hasn’t read a Harry Potter book? Okay, so most everyone has. Think about it for a minute. All the Harry Potter books urge people to follow in Harry’s (and Hermione’s and Ron’s and Dumbledore’s) footsteps by standing up for what is right and good. Yes, it is a morality tale. And a damn fine one at that. Did you even realize you were getting a message when you read it? I didn’t.

Okay, so a thriller is a moral tale. Great. Now, what kind of books can be thrillers? Well mysteries, horrors, paranormals, science fiction, fantasy. All of these can be counted under the thriller definition I am using here. The most important thing is that it is a moral tale, that’s it.

Now, on to the pillars. (I am using the term pillars because it is the term James N. Frey uses in his How to Write a Damn Good….  series. I recommend How to Write a Damn Good Thriller to anyone writing in a genre listed above.

All of these Pillars help to make a cohesive novel that is interesting and even fun to read. Remember you don’t want to hit people over the head with morality though. This is not Happy Feet. (Yes, i keep using that example, mainly because I loved the movie until the last 15 minutes, where it irritated me, a proud conservationist. if you haven’t seen it, I suggest you just skip over the end when it gets really preachy.)

Okay, without anymore ado, The Pillars.

1.) High Stakes– This is important, though the definition of high stakes can differ. It does not have to be the life and death of all humanity to be high stakes (though it can be). It could just as easily be the survival of a child, the savior of an immortal soul, or something else that is important. In all this is a pretty straight forward pillar. Don’t think about it too hard.

2.) Unity of Opposites– Okay, this sounds complex. It  isn’t. Of course, neither is novel-writing. Hard, definitely, but not complex. Unity of opposites, with everything else stripped away, is basically the reason your hero can’t just pick up and leave. That’s it. What is keeping your hero from saying, “The heck with it!” and getting out of Dodge? it can be morality, or even physically being stuck somewhere. Just make sure the reader isn’t asking why he doesn’t just leave.

3.) Seemingly Impossible Odds– The hero may not make it against the odds, and definitely for a period of time the reader doesn’t think he can. Usually, however, the hero does eventually overcome the odds. Usually, not always.

4.) Moral Struggle– Easy enough. There is a good side and a bad side. Your hero is on the good side. Think Luke Skywalker in Star Wars. The movies would have been completely different if told from Darth Vader’s point of view. (Notice I said Vader, not Anakin).

5.) Ticking Clock– There has to be a deadline for the hero’s actions. This is über important for the thriller to have a sense of urgency. I mean if there is no deadline, there is no reason for the hero to try to solve the problem and defeat the villain.

6.) Menace– Simply put, your hero and other sympathetic characters are in danger through most of the story.

7.) Thriller-type Characters– Your characters, hero and villain alike, must be clever and resourceful as well as larger than life. Think about Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker again. Although both are believable characters (in the Star Wars universe) they are both bigger than life, and incredibly clever. Same with Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort (yes, I said his name).

Incorporating all these Pillars into your novel will make it stronger and a far more interesting read. If you leave even one out, you run the risk of losing your readers, and we all know that is not a good thing.

Remember a thriller can be just about any type of novel, not just a murder-mystery or a zombie book.

Good luck, good writing!

Always,

Dawn

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Character Journals

… and we’re back!

Okay, so I have been reading quite a bit recently about writing books. I know I mentioned in an earlier post how a writer should always keep learning and that books on the craft are a great way to do so.

Well here is one of the best ideas I have learned.

Sounds crazy. Well maybe not to you, but it did to me.

Write a journal entry for each of your major characters.

Crazy right? Actually, no.

A lot of authors get discouraged at their inability to find an agent or a publisher (if they are going the direct to publish route). They have no idea why their book(s) fail to engage someone else.

Has this happened to you? Don’t despair. I may have the reason right here, and if not in this post hopefully in one of the ones coming up in this series.

Many, many, many times, a writer makes their characters (especially their antagonist) too one-dimensional.

Makes sense if you think about it, though. I mean, the bad guy is supposed to be really bad, right?

Well yes, and no.

Agents and readers want an antagonist who is bad/evil/manipulative/etc, but he/she/it has to also be well-rounded. In other words, the character needs to live and breathe, have flesh.

Yikes! How?

The journal. It has helped me get deeper into my characters’ heads than anything else.

For instance, my bad guy is pretty bad. He wants to do a blood sacrifice on a child. He is evil, manipulative, larger than life.

He also had a very messed up life before the thing which changed him into a thing. (that is as specific as I am going with that, so deal with it!) 🙂

I had no idea before I wrote his journal that he had a wife who killed herself after their daughter died, or that he was blamed for a number of things out of his control, or that the reason he went to the place that changed him was to get spiritual guidance to take back with him to his people.

Wow. I really didn’t know my antagonist at all!

The journal helps.

One thing that I do is to use a different font for each character. I go through Microsoft’s fonts in Word and find the one that looks like the character’s writing. Then I just write away (*grin*) in that character’s perspective about his or her life up until the moment the story takes place. I suppose you could do it for the whole story too, but that is enough for me to know my character and understand what motivates him.

Will you put this journal in your story? No.

Will you use everything you learned about your character in the story (i.e. that his wife died)? probably not.

This is a tool for you, as the writer, to get to know your characters. Afterward you can see how they would react to certain situations because you know their deeper motivations.

So, what are you waiting for? Write those journals!

Always,

Dawn

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Interview with Kate Gifford

 well here is an interview with Kate Gifford, a very gifted romance writer, and sweet friend.

1)   What genre(s) do you write? And why?

  Romance, romantic suspense.  I write romance because it always has a happy ending.  I write romantic suspense because the suspense aspect gives more dimension to a story.

2)   Tell us about your latest project. This is your chance to crow about being published, agented, or winning a contest.

My completed novel is a romantic suspense.  I am in the process of shopping it around. I am unagented. I have any many feature articles published in local newspapers.  My current work in progress is a straight romance with no suspense element.  

 

3)   Other than writing, how do you like to spend your time?

  Other than writing, I read at east three novels a week.  I no longer work outside the home.  I am a wife, a mother and grandmother.  I am a homemaker, babysitter and errand runner.  I enjoy my family, friends, reading, dinner theater and comedies.

 

4)   Do you have any tattoo’s, if so where? If not, do you want any?

I don’t have a single tatoo anywhere and I don’t want any.

 

5)   What is the last book you read? Did you like it?

The last book I read was a romantic comedy and I did enjoy it.

 

6)   What is your advice to those who want to be authors? (I know, it’s a crummy one, but needs to be asked)

Write the kind of stories you like to read.  Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t or shouldn’t write.  Write something every day, even if it’s just that you wish you had more time for writing – because time has a way of getting away from us, and pretty soon that one day you skipped writing becomes the hundredth day you skipped writing.  The longer you go without writing, the harder it is get back into it.  Read, read, read!  Hang out with other people who enjoy writing, whether in person or on-line.  Learn all you can about your craft.  Realize you are never done learning.

 

7) Tell us one thing no one knows about you.

  I wish I were  the woman I know to be.  

Well dear friends, here you have it. Kate Gifford!

Just to let you know, the clean up from Irene  continues around here, but at least we have power!

Always

Dawn

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Interview With Kacey Vanderkarr @kacimari

This Friday we have the fabulous Kacey Vanderkarr….a fabulous writer and a beautiful person all the way through. Take it away kaci!!

1)   What genre(s) do you write? And why?

 I write YA.  I can’t imagine a more interesting or dynamic period in someone’s life than the teenage years.  It’s fun as an adult to put yourself in their shoes and then pull all the strings.  With YA, it’s all about the drama.  Relationships, emotions, and hormones are all elevated.  It’s acceptable to go on murderous rages, to scream, kick and fight.  You can love with your whole heart and hurt with your entire being. The beauty is in the intensity of it all. Let the crazy begin!

 

2)   Tell us about your latest project. This is your chance to crow about being published, agented, or winning a contest.

 My latest project is also technically my first.  I’ve written a series of four books without looking back or doing much editing.  When I got to the end and realized that I wanted to get them published, reality hit—hard.  I’ve spent the last few months trimming my first manuscript, Stepping Stones, a YA Fantasy Romance, from 125,000 words to 80,000.  I expect to start querying by the end of August, if everything goes as planned.  Of course, nothing ever does, but I’m hopeful!

 

3)   Other than writing, how do you like to spend your time?

 I pretty much live four lives at any given time.  First off, I’m a mother and wife.  My husband actually complains about the amount of time I spend writing.  It’s a good thing he’s not in my head—because he’d really hate how much I think about it!  Aside from that, I coach a winterguard team at my local high school.  From October to April, I immerse myself in teenage drama.  It’s awesome!  I love coaching.  It really gives you the opportunity to change someone’s life.  My third life is Ultrasound.  I work at a hospital in the Diagnostic Imaging Department.  I know that most people think that ultrasound is just for pregnant women, but that’s not the case.  We pretty much do it all—abdomens, thyroids, veins, arteries, testicles…well, you get the picture.  My fourth life is my writing—enough said.

 

 4)   Do you have any tattoo’s, if so where? If not, do you want any?

 I have five tattoos with detailed plans for a sixth.  I have the Pure Romance heart on my foot.  Yes, that’s right.  I used to sell sex toys.  It was one of the most exciting jobs I’ve ever had, not to mention the most fun.  I have a nautical star on each hip.  On my back I have a star with a tribal design.  On my left shoulder I have a matching cat tattoo with my sister.  My plans for the sixth are pretty intense.  It’s going to be a naked tree with visible roots.  Skeleton keys will hang from the branches.  It will also have a crow or a raven sitting in it.  Above the tree will be stars, below it will be the quote “Without the dark we’d never see the stars.”  Kudos if you know where the quote comes from. 

 5)   What is the last book you read? Did you like it?

 The last book I read was Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger.  I enjoyed it to an extent, but overall was disappointed.  I absolutely loved The Time Traveler’s Wife, so I expected it to capture me just as much.  However, after 300 pages of waiting for something to happen, it didn’t.  The book did have a lot of creepiness, intricate characters, and some not to subtle maliciousness.  Long story short, I probably won’t read it again.

 6)   What is your advice to those who want to be authors? (I know, it’s a crummy one, but needs to be asked)

 Get as much information as possible BEFORE you start writing.  Sadly, in the end, writing is the easy part.  The editing, the late nights spent crying over cut scenes, and the harsh critiques are NOT the easy part.  Find a support network.  Meet new people and use their advice.  We are all human and we all react differently to things.  There is a wealth of knowledge, information, and opinions in others.  Use it!  Also, believe in yourself.  A lot of people are going to cut your work down and say things you don’t like.  But if you have a story to tell, you have a right to not listen!  You are your best advocate and worst enemy.  Trust yourself.

 7)   Tell us one thing no one knows about you

 I have a teddy bear.  I’ve had him for 24 years.  I can’t part with him.  I keep telling my husband that I’d settle for a small pillow, but it hasn’t happened yet.  Gah!  I can’t believe I’m telling this to the world.  At least it’s not a crack addiction. 🙂

 Follow me on Twitter:   http://twitter.com/#!/kacimari

            Blog: http://kacimari.blogspot.com/

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Isn’t it great to know more abot your favorite people?

OKay guys, I don’t know how next week is going to go, we are expecting a lot of downed power lines in the area this weekend from Hurricane Irene. I will try and keep up the blog, but without power it will be difficult!

Always,

Dawn

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