Thursday, November 21, 2013

Thursday's Thoughts: Thanksgiving Turned Upside Down

A week from today is Thanksgiving. Two weeks ago today, a good friend of mine died. She fought a brave fight against a cancer that would not be conquered, and finally lost that fight. Yesterday, at ten o'clock in the morning, one of my two very best friends died, suddenly and unexpectedly.

Just a few days before that, she had come over to give me a special gift, for no real reason...just to be giving. A beautiful little angel, dressed in white with red mittens on uplifted hands, and a cute red stocking cap on her head. When you turned her upside down, her hands and the end of the stocking cap made feet upon which sat her body...she was a cup.

Today, I can't look at that angel-cup without crying. And I can't help thinking, How can I be thankful this Thanksgiving, when a good friend and another one whom I loved greatly are both gone?

Several days ago, my other best friend who lives far from me in Montana, wrote a post about the "Tiny Pluses in a Minus World," and as I read that post, I realized that it is up to me to find those pluses in my world, no matter how tiny they might be.

It hasn't been easy. Especially today, when I am still reeling from Jackie's death. Jackie was Italian, from a typically large family, and she always had many stories to tell about "growing up Italian." They always put me in tears, either because they were so poignant I cried, or because they were so hilarious I laughed until I cried. But those stories, and their storyteller, are some of the pluses in my world.  I may forget her stories, but never will I forget her.

Publishing has been a long journey, and a difficult one, at best. With so much bad news around me, it has been almost impossible to enjoy the fact that, yes, I am a published book author. Yet, I know that it is a plus, and far from a tiny one. I just need to take the time to recognize that fact and take pleasure in it. After all, Jackie was one of my biggest supporters, and she was super-excited when the publishing day came around.

My beloved husband is on the mend again, and oh what a HUGE plus that is! To have him at home, to know that he is getting better and stronger each day, means more to me than anything else in the world.

My children, my son, even though he no longer recognizes me as his mother, and my daughter who lives 300 miles away, are two of the biggest pluses in my life, as are my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren. Yet, they are the "obvious" pluses, and sometimes, we fail to realize that those closest to us are the most important "pluses" we could ever have. Sometimes we think we must search out that which seems almost ephemeral for it to be a real "plus" in our lives.

Still, I can't help but feel that Thanksgiving this year has been turned upside down. We have much to feel thankful for, but also much that has happened at this time of year that we still question, and wonder, "How do I give thanks for this?" This has been a "minus" year of great note for my family, and I think we all are wondering, "What will I give thanks for at the dinner table, when it comes my turn?" Yet, the pluses are there. We just need to look for them.

How about you? Has this year been one of more minuses than pluses? And how do you go about finding the pluses in your life, even if has been a good year?

Until next time,
That's a wrap.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Friday's Focus: Today My Life Takes Another Turn

I suppose I should be writing this all in red, as today is certainly a red-letter day in my life. Today my very first full-length novel, THE FREEDOM THIEF, was released as an ebook publication from MuseItUp Publishers.

And I should be so excited I would be shaking,  clapping my hands in glee, jumping for joy, and all of those "other things" excitement brings about.

I am happy! But, you know, it's more a kind of "sigh of relief" type happiness, instead of the "jumping for joy" kind. I suppose it's because I'm older than most first time authors...I don't think my bones would allow me to jump for joy even if I wanted to LOL

This day has been a long time coming...seven years, to be exact.  So, yes, it is with a sigh of relief that I can now say, my historical adventure novel is finally on the market. And today, this journey I call my life takes just one more twist and turn, as I make the final arrangements for the launch party tomorrow, and then next week, begin to arrange for school visits. It's been a long journey, sometimes an exhausting one, with several tragedies in my family along the way that have made writing very difficult. Yet, through all of this, it has been my husband and my family that have seen me through, have been with me every step of the way, and have told me, "No matter what happens, don't stop, never stop writing."

And so, with pride and oh so much love in my heart for my awesome husband, I can say, THE FREEDOM THIEF is now a published book!
**********************************************************************

Thirteen year old Ben McKenna is leading his best friend, the crippled slave Josiah, and Josiah's parents Bess and Jesse, on a dangerous journey to find freedom across the Ohio River. Ben's father was going to sell Josiah, and Ben knew the only way to save him was to arrange an escape from the plantation. They have barely escaped with their lives from a collapsing underground tunnel, gone through a deep forest, and are now in a swamp. They are lost, and have no idea of what lies ahead.

 
They were deep into the swamp now, and it seemed as though the stinking
waters were all that existed in this part of the world. There were many times when a sudden burst of air bubbles, signaling the settling of a submerged tree limb, popped up and startled them. At one point, Josiah stopped abruptly. In front of him and Ben was a piece of rusted iron, twisted roughly into the shape of a cross. It was leaning precariously against a tree, but the human skull sitting on top was the most frightening aspect.
Bess and Jesse caught up to them, and Bess said, “Ben, you think that be
somebody what died in this here swamp?”
“Could have been. But that’s not happening to us, so come on, let’s keep
going.”
They kept on sloshing their way through, and with no sense of time, Ben
wondered if they were going to be in this swamp forever. Daylight left the sky, and the shadows grew longer and more ominous. An eerie glow emanated from the waters, which Ben sincerely hoped was created from nothing more than the last remnants of sunlight seeping through the trees. From time to time, the sound of dogs came to them over the water, but they couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or going farther away. They were too exhausted to speak, and after what seemed an eternity, the steamy waters trickled out onto solid ground. The swamp had ended in another deep forest, but the little group was too weary to even notice until Ben stopped. “Listen, do you hear that? It sounds like running water. We’re in a forest now, so this could be a fresh water stream.”
Jesse dropped his pole. “That be the river?”
 
“I don’t think so. I think it might just be a fast running stream. Come on, we all
need a drink of water.”
 
Jesse scowled. “I think we not ever gets to the river.”
Ben decided it would be best not to argue with the big man and headed in the
direction of the water sounds. He heard Jesse muttering behind him and Bess
whispering back.
 
“Hey, Ben, we be okay now? We outta the swamp so I can puts my pole
down?”
 
“Yeah, Josiah, I think so. See, this is pretty solid ground now. Look, I can jump
up and down and not fall in!” Ben demonstrated with a couple of jumps and had
Josiah laughing at his antics.
They reached the stream where the water was cold and sweet. Ben knelt with
the rest of his party, cupped his hands, and drank as much as he could. Bess opened Ben’s shirt again and pulled out the apples, a few biscuits, and what was left of the ham. Ben ate his share of the food before he tore the shirt into strips.
“What for you doing that, Ben?” Josiah’s eyes were bright with curiosity.
 
“I’m going to bury a couple of strips here, and then I’m going to walk around
in a circle and bury the rest of them. If the dogs get here, they’ll be confused and
won’t know which way we went.” He didn’t really think it would confuse the dogs
too much, but it was the best he could do.
 
They took another drink and followed the stream for a short distance. Now that
Josiah didn’t have his pole to lean on, his leg began to hurt. When he started
making little sounds of pain and trying to stifle them, Ben knew it was time to find
a place to rest. He led them into the underbrush in a particularly dense area and
soon the exhausted group fell asleep.
When Ben woke up, moonlight was shimmering through the trees. He heard
dogs barking, so the hunters were coming through the swamp. He shook Jesse
awake but put a finger to his lips and whispered, “We gotta be quiet, the hunters
are close by. Let’s get to the stream and follow it. Even if the dogs get this far,
they’ll lose our scent through water. Let’s go.”
 
When they reached the stream, Ben stepped into the cold water with the others
behind him. The sound of the dogs faded once again, and Ben drew in a deep
breath, catching a whiff of smoke. He looked around at Bess and Jesse, but they
were focused on helping Josiah navigate the swiftly-running water. He decided not to say anything about the smoke.
The moon rose, and now there was enough light in the forest for the trees to
cast their shadow. Bess caught up to him and said, “That moon be bright, Ben.
Maybe we should stop and hide so the hunters won’t see us?”
 
“I reckon we should keep on walking. If the hunters were close, the dogs would
be louder, and besides, it’s easier to get into the shadows now than it would be in
daylight.”
She fell back with Jesse again, but Ben knew she was concerned. When his
bare feet and legs numbed from the cold stream, Ben crossed to the other side and
led them into the thick underbrush of the forest. At times, Ben needed to cut heavy vines and twisting weeds out of the way. Jesse tried to step in the footprints that Ben left, so walking was a little easier for Bess and Josiah. Occasionally, Ben
heard Josiah cry out, and he knew Josiah’s leg was hurting. Nevertheless, Josiah
refused to be carried.
 
As the moon faded, taking what little light it shed between the trees, Ben
started looking for a place to hide during the day. The wind was coming up, and
with their clothes still damp from sweat and the humidity in the swamp, and feet
and legs cold from the stream, all of them were shivering.
 
Ben stopped. “Look over there,” he whispered, as he pointed to something in
the distance. “Doesn’t that look like it’s a clearing of some kind? Maybe we should check it out.”
 
Jesse said, “Maybe we’s stay here,
you go check it out.”
Ben sighed. Jesse still didn’t trust him completely. “Better sure than sorry, I
guess, Jesse. You stay here, and I’ll go see what it is.”
He waited until they had hidden before he moved forward until he reached the
edge of the clearing. There were no indications of people having been there, or a
path leading away. There was nothing but a small circle cleared out of the forest.
He turned to go, when a voice said, “Stop! Don’t move.” With the voice came the
sound of a rifle being cocked.

The link to buy the book is here:
https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/69-our-authors/authors-s/379-mikki-sadil

Until next time,
That's a wrap.





Thursday, October 31, 2013

Friday's Focus: How a Story is Born

Ever since I studied about the Civil War in school, I've been fascinated by it. As a kid, I couldn't understand how family members, friends, and neighbors could disagree over a difference in philosophy to the point of being willing to go to war and possibly kill each other. That fascination continued into my adult life, although by then I knew that differences in philosphies are usually the cause of war.

Somehow, I knew that one day, I would write a novel about the Civil War, or about some element that was pertinent to that era. The Freedom Thief is the result.

Slavery was a long lost concept by the time I was born, but unfortunately, prejudice against African Americans was still alive and well. My mother was a first Generation American of French born-and-raised parents, but she was born in Texas at a time when the Southern thoughts and traditions were still prominent, and so was the belief that, in its day, slavery was acceptable. She tried to instill those same thoughts and traditions in me, but it didn't work. Looking down upon African Americans, at that time still called "Negroes," and believing them to be inferior was one of the concepts she believed in, and until the day she died, she could never understand my way of thinking, nor could she accept it.

In 1998, my husband and I took a barge trip down the Ohio and up the Mississippi Rivers. It was an awesome trip, with all the gorgeous autumn reds, golds, and browns in full bloom along the river. We went through some of the biggest locks I've ever seen, and at times, had to tarry along the river's edge, waiting for one or more working barges, loaded down with merchandice, to enter and finally exit the same lock we needed to go through. We were on River Time, like no other time in the world, and clocks and watches were of no use to anyone.

Our barge traveled slowly down the Ohio, before turning into the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi. It was exciting to see how the beautiful blue of the Ohio fought to maintain its color for almost a mile, before giving in to the powerful muddy brown waters of the Mississippi.

Along the way, we nosed our way slowly and carefully into tiny inlets full of water flowers, heavy vines trailing out into the river, and large tree roots hidden beneath the shallow water. These inlets allowed us to visit some of the oldest and most historic towns in the US, most of which were small and related in some way to the Civil War.

Murietta, Ohio, is a small town that played an important part in the Civil War as it was a major station in the Underground Railroad. Here many people, Abolitionists and Quakers, offered their homes with hidden attic or basement rooms as "safe houses" for escaping slaves. We visited a few of those homes, and in one, the basement was pretty much as it was in 1862...full of boxes and barrels that still contained the stench of rotting fruits and vegetables the owners had left there. They hid the slaves in the very back of the basement room, and the vicious smell of rotten food kept the slave hunters from going any deeper into the basement. The slaves who were hidden there over many years were never found by the slave hunters. When we were in Murietta, it was still a small town, but charming and friendly with unique shops with names like Mad Hen, Needful Things, Two Peas in a Pod, Turquoise Spirit, and Twisted Sister.

This basement, and the rotten food stored there, plays an important part in The Freedom Thief.

All of these small towns had museums with everything from spent shells from cannons and muskets, to the weapons themselves, to still-bloodied and torn uniforms of both Confederate and Union soldiers. There were dirty and wore diaries and journals, printed in faltering writing and English, all hand-written by slaves who were either still enslaved or who had been freed, either by escaping or by the end of the War. It was fascinating reading.

We visited the remnants of slave dwellings on the property of historical mansions, some still occupied, and often these occupants were descendents of the original plantation owners. We went through the narrow hallways and small rooms of forts, even climbing up to the parapets of one that had a magnificent view of the Ohio River. We saw all kinds of farm wagons with false bottoms that had been used to transport runaway slaves. I sat in one of the 'death coaches' that had carried many slaves hidden in coffins inside their glass interiors. We saw tiny hiding places in ramshackle barns, and walked up shaky staircases to hidden attic rooms. We gently fingered the terrible instruments, such as the iron collar and the Cat o'Nine Tails whip, used to punish disobedient slaves, or those who had escaped and been found by hunters and returned to their 'owners.' There were times when I was sure I could hear the screams of those being beaten.

When we returned to our ranch, I told my husband that I knew what I was going to write. That barge trip had turned into the perfect gem of an idea for a story about the Civil War. But, as so often happens to us all, life got in the way of my writing, and it was not until 2006 that I began to write for publication. I began a story, titled Escape on the Train Without Tracks, for my last assignment of my first course at the Institute of Children's Literature. It was a great story, but it didn't come to fruition until 2012, and over the years, it changed greatly. Today, only the characters I created for that first novel are left, and The Freedom Thief is vastly different from Escape...

The single most important aspect of Thief is that almost every single thing and place we saw and visited on that barge trip so many years ago is incorporated into the novel. Drifting down the Ohio and up the Mississippi Rivers on a funny little barge is not only the greatest vacation my husband and I ever took, but it is also perhaps the most important trip I ever took.

The Freedom Thief will be launched on Friday, November 8, 2013. I hope you will read and enjoy the dangerous journey Ben McKenna took when he arranged the escape of three slaves: his best friend and the boys's parents. The link to buy the book on or after Nov. 8 is: https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/69-our-authors/authors-s/379-mikki-sadil

Until next time,
That's a wrap.





Thursday, October 24, 2013

Thursday's Thoughts: The Freedom Thief Is About To Be Launched!

As writers, do you ever get the feeling that you are writing in a vacuum, that no one really understands what you are trying to accomplish or why it is taking you so long to accomplish...whatever?

I've had that feeling for a long time. My family has always supported my writing, but there have been times when the unspoken look has said, "When are you going to get this done? Or just give it up?"

And I can understand that. Even though there have been three completed novels, and one almost finished during this time, it has taken me six years to get to this point with The Freedom Thief. SIX YEARS! That is a long time for one novel: two years of research, and four of writing, rewriting because my thoughts have changed, or my research has taken me in a different direction; sending to my critique group, then editing according to their well-thought out comments; a little more rewriting, more editing; finally sending the polished manuscript to a professional editor, and then on to the publisher who accepted it.

I started this novel for my last assignment in my first course at the Institute of Children's Literature. The title then was "Escape on the Train Without Tracks." That was in late 2007. At the time, the "train without tracks" refered to the Underground Railroad, the system that was in place to help escaping slaves during the pre-Civil War era.

Six years later, The Freedom Thief is about to be "born," and is a completely different novel. But then, how many times does that happen to us, when we start with one premise which evolves into another and another until the final result is miles away from day one? I seriously doubt I'm the only writer that has happened to!

It's been a long journey. One that has not altogether been a happy one, with all the tragedy our family has gone through. But my awesome husband has been with me ever step of the way, telling me, "Yes, you can do this, and no, you're not giving up." Without him, this book would never have been written. Richard, you are my hero and the love of my life.

The Freedom Thief launches at MuseItUp Publishing on Friday, November 8th, 2013. Click on the link below to reach the buy page. The price is $5.50, but for the start-up, the sale price will be $4.40.

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/69-our-authors/authors-s/379-mikki-sadil

Because it is released first as an ebook, this is what you do: if you have a Kindle:
use the prc file: download the file to your computer in a safe location, plug in your Kindle USB, and drag that file into your Kindle folder.

If you have a Nook, Kobo, Sony, or some other reader, you do the same thing EXCEPT you use the epub file.

Next time, I'll be posting more about The Freedom Thief, and I'll even give you a small taste of what's inside!

Until next time,
That's a wrap.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Cover Art For The Freedom Thief

A week ago, a new element of the publishing business came into my life: the cover art that will go on my book, The Freedom Thief. I have really been looking forward to this, because I had no idea what the illustrator might have in mind. As an artist, I could envision different ways to paint a cover, but an artist and an illustrator are two totally different animals, at least in the way they look at something and decide how to represent it on canvas or paper.

My first cover was sent to me, and I didn't know what to think. It was brilliantly done...but it was way too esoteric for children. The CA (cover artist) had started with a large tunnel, with a shadowy figure at the far end. At the near right side of the cover, was a depiction of a carriage with four horses. From the end of the tunnel back to the carriage was a brilliant sprawl of light, so that the carriage and horses appeared very faintly in the drawing.

So this was my thought: the tunnel represented the underground tunnel that Ben had led the three slaves through to begin their escape to freedom. The carriage represented the "death coach", which was the final mode of transportation for Ben and the slaves to the point where they had to accomplish the final part of their journey to the Ohio River on foot. The bright light represented the concept of "There's a light at the end of the tunnel"...light in this case meaning freedom.

But I felt it was way over the heads of kids who are 10, 11, 12 years old. I'm not sure even 13 and 14 year olds would actually "get" the concept the cover represented. And then my husband said the light was so bright that it looked "almost God-like, while the figure could represent God or Jesus." Obviously, I didn't want anyone else...any parent...to get that impression, as this is not a book about religion.

So I sent it back, found out the CA didn't know the book was for 10-14 year olds, and then she told me she would completely redo the cover. She did, and I really like it much better. It's done in sepia tones which makes it appear mysterious and tantalizing. She inserted the tag line for the book between the lines of the title, and I think when kids read that, and look at the cover, they will be intrigued enough to buy it. I hope so!

Tell me what you think!


Until next time,
That's a wrap.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Some Thoughts For An Early Wednesday Morning

Friday I received my galley sheets for The Freedom Thief. I didn't know what to expect, and realized that it is a lot of work. I have to go sentence by sentence through the whole manuscript to make sure every word, every bit of punctuation, spelling, and grammar is correct. That means printing out the manuscript, and for me, using a 5 x 8 note card to cover sentences below the one I'm reading, to make sure I don't miss anything. There are no page numbers any more, as the ms has to be formatted to fit the ebook format for printing.

When I find an error, such as a word being left out of a sentence ( and I've found one of those already, but the word was in the original ms), I then have to write the sentence in the galley worksheet, highlight where the word is supposed to be, then in the space below, rewrite the sentence ( the entire sentence) and highlight the word I'm putting in. I have to do this for every sentence in which there is some kind of error. It is slow work, tiring and tedious. But it is to make sure the book is "word and SPAG perfect" when it goes to print. This is the final step before the book is printed and released.

I received my cover art, the second one as I didn't approve of the first one. It was very well done, but too "esoteric" for kids. I found out that cover artists don't read the manuscripts when they are assigned one to work on. They are told what the book is about and what the genre is, and that's about it. They have to come up with a cover that represents both the story and the genre, but in my case, my CA didn't know that the book was for kids, so her first cover wasn't appropriate. The second one is rather mysterious and hopefully, that will appeal to the kids. I'm going to post the cover here on my blog as soon as I figure out how to do it!

My publisher, MuseItUp, is in Canada, and while I was working with my Line Editor, she changed some of my spelling to reflect the British way of spelling. I find that a little difficult to accept, since I'm American, but I guess that's the way it has to be. I just hope the kids and parents who buy the book, and who are in America, will overlook that part, or at least, not think I don't know how to spell!

The promotional part of this whole process is very time consuming, expensive, and frustrating. I sincerely hope that by the time I get through this first book and its promotion, I will have learned enough to not panic...again...when the second one comes out next spring. As of now, I'm in the midst of a nervous breakdown, and praying that I'm doing the right things at the right time...and am not at all sure I am!

There are so many things to coordinate, and the timeline is iffy. The book is due out in November, but I don't have a definite date. That makes it hard to schedule the launch event, but I've done so and just hope it isn't too early. Living in a small town means open community rooms are few and far between, which in turn means they are booked up far in advance. Since I wanted to have this event in the library...hoping to snag a few stray kids LOL...I booked the only free date in November, which is the 9th. I'm doing both the invitations and the flyers myself, and have waited to print them out until I hear something more definitive about the release date, but that hasn't come yet. This week I need to get them both out, so the date will continue to be Nov.9th, and with any luck, the book will be released close to that date.

Now I need to stop writing, and try to figure out how to get my cover art posted to this blog. Wish me luck!

Until next time,
That's a wrap.




Friday, September 13, 2013

Friday's Focus: Rejection and Acceptance

Today is more of a thoughtful day than anything else. But it isn't necessarily all about writing, either.

I've been hearing and reading about a lot of writers, some I know personally, some only from the Internet, who are getting rejections on their short stories and novels, and their various reactions to them. Every writer knows that rejections are nothing more than a part of the writing journey, but for some, a rejection is a life-changing event. It can mean falling into the depths of depression, of beating one's self up about what a terrible writer they are, all the way to declaring an end to their journey and refusing to put pen to paper, or hands to computer keyboard, ever again. To me, there are only two reasons why a writer would do any of the above: either they have very low self-esteem and any kind of rejection from any person would have the same effect, or, they don't really want to be a writer in the first place. I'd put my money on the latter reason.

Alex Haley, author of the award-winning book Roots, which went on to become an award-winning TV show, went through 200 rejections before he sold this book Agatha Christie wrote and submitted for five years before she sold a single one of her mystery stories. The same kind of story exists for present day writers, like J.R. Rowlings, whose first book about Harry Potter received nothing but rejections until the 8 year-old daughter of an agent who had received the manuscript and couldn't sell it, demanded to read the whole story. That 8 year-old's reaction was the impetus that sold the first of the seven-book Harry Potter saga. These people, as well as thousands of other writers, want to write badly enough to keep on writing and submitting until finally, their work is accepted and they are rightly called authors.

You don't give up. That's the trick. A long and many times, lonely and frustrating journey, from writer to author, but you don't give up. You keep on keeping on. There's no other way. Rejections are a part of a writer's life. Keep them in a file, post them on a corkboard where you can see them every day, wallpaper your office with them, it doesn't matter what you DO with them, but they are there, they are a part of your life as a writer, and often, they are a valuable part of your writer's journey. Accept the rejection. Cry, swear, throw things, beat your desk with a wooden spoon ( just don't beat the dog who will bite the cat who will scratch your husband, and then you'll really be in deep do-do), and then...take a deep breath, do whatever you're going to do with that rejection, pour yourself a cup of coffee, take the bag of chocolate out of the fridge, and start writing again.
It's life. Live it.

Acceptance. I'm not talking about writing here. Today is September 13, but I'm talking about 9/11/2001. A day of despicable tragedy, a day which will, or should, live in infamy for eternity. Yet, I noticed something this year...very little was said about 9/11 this year. A few scattered memorials on TV, a few words from our President, and that's it. I saw nothing on FaceBook about it; nothing was said about it on the two writers' forums I'm on; no big write-up in the newspapers. Yes, it was twelve years ago. Yes, some people want to forget about it, and "get on" with their lives.

Does "getting on" with your life mean that as a nation, we have become so accepting of the violence throughout out planet, and this cowardly act upon our own people, that we don't need to remember? Does the "acceptance" of what happened, of the lives lost and the lives forever changed, mean that we no longer need or should have memorials to that day and to those people? Is "acceptance" now the equivalent of "forgetting?" I know school children who were not born yet or who were infants/toddlers twelve years ago, who know almost nothing about that day...the day of September 11th, 2001, which should have changed the entire nation, but apparently hasn't. Why aren't they being taught, in depth, about this day, and what it means...or should have meant...to not only the United States but to the entire world? I don't know, but it seems to me that the "acceptance" of that day means that over time, it has no longer become a day of much significance.

I don't understand.

Until next time,
That's a wrap.