Saturday, November 3, 2007
NANOWRIMO MADNESS!
NANOWRIMO is in full swing! I hope everyone is as excited about creating a new novel as I am. Creativity is flowing through my fingertips like magic from a wand! I love my spooky characters and can't wait to see what they're up to. Melissaa is the protaginist and my favorite character. Although, I feel so sorry for the EVIL ghost, which is the antaginist. I love the other characters as well and hope they make it through my novel alive! Hehehe!
Friday, November 2, 2007
Mad Dash to BLOOMING TREE PRESS
Yesterday I, and many other authors began writing a new novel (for NANOWRIMO), national novel writing month. It's a creative race to finish a novel of say, 50k words. No one takes the time to edit or redo anything. You just begin with a plot or character and go for it! My novel is a YA paranormal titled, Meissaa. It's oozing with mysterous ghosts and evil spirits!
I also took an opportunity to sub my latest picture book, chapter book and ya novel to BLOOMING TREE PRESS. I'm sure many others joined me in the persuit of getting their work looked at my one of the best company's in the world. They offer only a small window of time (one month) to get unpublished work to them for a chance of publication. BTP is one of the most sought after among published and unpublished writers alike.
I also took an opportunity to sub my latest picture book, chapter book and ya novel to BLOOMING TREE PRESS. I'm sure many others joined me in the persuit of getting their work looked at my one of the best company's in the world. They offer only a small window of time (one month) to get unpublished work to them for a chance of publication. BTP is one of the most sought after among published and unpublished writers alike.
Monday, October 29, 2007
FREE, Creepy, Haunting, Halloween Story
BLOODY REVENGE
by
C.S. Davidson
*Sometimes, all we have is the dark side.*
“Scratch, scratch, scratch!” His desperate cry for help at low hanging windows and locked doors continues, but no one answers. No one dares! The creature he’d become terrified all who knew of him now. For now, he killed to survive. Living off the blood of the innocent in his search for the guilty.
He awakens when the full moon beckons. Crawling through the darkness on the only path he knows; urged on by one thought, one desire. Revenge. His dismal mission for all eternity is to search out and find the one who murdered the girl he loved. He will search forever but in vain because the person he seeks, lies motionless in a cold grave . . . Next to his own!
It happened ten years ago, when Ricky Truman moved to Middleport. He inherited the old house on the hill above the graveyard. Truman mansion looked inviting from the town below but inside the old house, a raw chill caused boards to creak and intruder’s to look over their shoulders. The creaking floors and bare walls were mirrored in black window panes that gaped at all who came near.
Ricky Truman didn’t seem to mind the place being ruin down, he was eager to move in. He wasted no time, making it his home. He had been on his own until he got his inheritance from a step-grandfather who he had never met. After settling in, he started fixing up the ruin-down place. Ricky wasn’t afraid of work, he enjoyed fixing things. Besides, this was his home now.
The house was creepy at night when the hollow walls amplified weird noises; noises not heard in the daytime. The cemetery was over-grown with weeds. Trees cast long shadows across the grounds at sunset. The old tombstones were worn and unreadable; others had fallen from decay. It was going to be a challenge but Ricky was a fighter. He worked on the house every evening after school. On weekends he did odd jobs around the neighborhood to support himself.
It was at one of these jobs that he met Julie, Mr. Weirton’s daughter. She had been helping her mom clean junk
from their attic for Ricky to haul away. He fell in love with her that first day. She was a dish in her blue tee-shirt and cut-offs. Her red hair was pulled back into a pony-tail that hung across her shoulder.
Julie and Ricky were in the same classes at school so they saw each other a lot. By the end of the school year, they were both in love and Ricky gave her his class ring. Everything was great in his life now. Julie was sweet and beautiful. The house was coming along little by little. Ricky decided to ask Julie to marry him. But then . . . things started changing. Little things like a nasty look, an unanswered phone call, a few broken dates.
Fall came and they were invited to a Halloween party. A full moon cast long shadows as they walked toward Thomas Bowden’s house. Pumpkins lined the front steps. Inside music blared and hairy bats swung from the ceiling. Thomas came to greet them, dressed in a vampire costume.
“Hi, glad you could come,” he said smiling at Julie. Thomas was a football player but he was a no good. Often bragging about the girls he had made out with. Jokingly laughing about the gullibility of girls.
“Is everyone here?” Julie asked, looking around. She was overly friendly, it was her nature. And, she had never gotten over handsome Thomas Bowden. He had used her in the past but
she was still drawn to him.
“Yeh, now that you guys are here,” he said. They both grinned at each other and looked down. What was he up to? wondered Ricky. Him and Julie had dated once but Julie had said that was over. “Come on, Julie said, let’s mingle.” The party was really rocking. They walked around the wall toward the group in the corner.
“What was that all about?” asked Ricky, flashing his
eyes in Thomas‘s direction. He felt that Thomas was probably up to something. Why had Julie encouraged him?
“What?” She asked, “he’s just being friendly. Come on, he didn’t mean anything. Julie flung her red hair across her shoulder and kissed Ricky. Now come on.”
After joining their friends, Julie went to the kitchen for something else to drink. Soon, Ricky got tired waiting and went to look for her. She was not in the kitchen nor was she anywhere downstairs, neither was Thomas. Ricky threw down his drink and started up the stairs. He grabbed the banister to pull himself faster. Hot sweat covered his forehead, the knot in his stomach was jerking as he opened the first door, then another, then there, on the bed lay Julie, naked! In Thomas Bowden’s arms! A pain shot through Ricky’s stomach as he pounced on Thomas.
Thomas seeing Ricky’s rage, pulled a pistol from the bed-side table and tried to aim at Ricky. Julie grabbed his neck to choke him when that didn’t work she reach for the pistol and he blew her hand off. Ricky took the pistol from Thomas and shot him in the head, then he shot himself.
A week later on Halloween, three coffins were carried to Truman cemetery. To this day, Julie’s hand with Ricky’s ring has never been found. But from that time on, strange things started happening in the neighborhood on moonlit nights. The Weirton’s thought they saw Ricky looking through their bedroom window. The Bowden’s heard scratching at their doors. The old mansion on Truman Hill stands empty but lights mysteriously go off and on by themselves.
Nobody goes trick-or-treating in Middleport anymore. If they hear scratching or knocking at night, they don’t dare open their doors. Ricky has never given up his search for the killer. Until this day, he crawls through the thick darkness thirsting for the blood of a murderer.
© 2003 Sue D. Frye
Frye is the winner Mochamemoirs.com Halloween contest.
by
C.S. Davidson
*Sometimes, all we have is the dark side.*
“Scratch, scratch, scratch!” His desperate cry for help at low hanging windows and locked doors continues, but no one answers. No one dares! The creature he’d become terrified all who knew of him now. For now, he killed to survive. Living off the blood of the innocent in his search for the guilty.
He awakens when the full moon beckons. Crawling through the darkness on the only path he knows; urged on by one thought, one desire. Revenge. His dismal mission for all eternity is to search out and find the one who murdered the girl he loved. He will search forever but in vain because the person he seeks, lies motionless in a cold grave . . . Next to his own!
It happened ten years ago, when Ricky Truman moved to Middleport. He inherited the old house on the hill above the graveyard. Truman mansion looked inviting from the town below but inside the old house, a raw chill caused boards to creak and intruder’s to look over their shoulders. The creaking floors and bare walls were mirrored in black window panes that gaped at all who came near.
Ricky Truman didn’t seem to mind the place being ruin down, he was eager to move in. He wasted no time, making it his home. He had been on his own until he got his inheritance from a step-grandfather who he had never met. After settling in, he started fixing up the ruin-down place. Ricky wasn’t afraid of work, he enjoyed fixing things. Besides, this was his home now.
The house was creepy at night when the hollow walls amplified weird noises; noises not heard in the daytime. The cemetery was over-grown with weeds. Trees cast long shadows across the grounds at sunset. The old tombstones were worn and unreadable; others had fallen from decay. It was going to be a challenge but Ricky was a fighter. He worked on the house every evening after school. On weekends he did odd jobs around the neighborhood to support himself.
It was at one of these jobs that he met Julie, Mr. Weirton’s daughter. She had been helping her mom clean junk
from their attic for Ricky to haul away. He fell in love with her that first day. She was a dish in her blue tee-shirt and cut-offs. Her red hair was pulled back into a pony-tail that hung across her shoulder.
Julie and Ricky were in the same classes at school so they saw each other a lot. By the end of the school year, they were both in love and Ricky gave her his class ring. Everything was great in his life now. Julie was sweet and beautiful. The house was coming along little by little. Ricky decided to ask Julie to marry him. But then . . . things started changing. Little things like a nasty look, an unanswered phone call, a few broken dates.
Fall came and they were invited to a Halloween party. A full moon cast long shadows as they walked toward Thomas Bowden’s house. Pumpkins lined the front steps. Inside music blared and hairy bats swung from the ceiling. Thomas came to greet them, dressed in a vampire costume.
“Hi, glad you could come,” he said smiling at Julie. Thomas was a football player but he was a no good. Often bragging about the girls he had made out with. Jokingly laughing about the gullibility of girls.
“Is everyone here?” Julie asked, looking around. She was overly friendly, it was her nature. And, she had never gotten over handsome Thomas Bowden. He had used her in the past but
she was still drawn to him.
“Yeh, now that you guys are here,” he said. They both grinned at each other and looked down. What was he up to? wondered Ricky. Him and Julie had dated once but Julie had said that was over. “Come on, Julie said, let’s mingle.” The party was really rocking. They walked around the wall toward the group in the corner.
“What was that all about?” asked Ricky, flashing his
eyes in Thomas‘s direction. He felt that Thomas was probably up to something. Why had Julie encouraged him?
“What?” She asked, “he’s just being friendly. Come on, he didn’t mean anything. Julie flung her red hair across her shoulder and kissed Ricky. Now come on.”
After joining their friends, Julie went to the kitchen for something else to drink. Soon, Ricky got tired waiting and went to look for her. She was not in the kitchen nor was she anywhere downstairs, neither was Thomas. Ricky threw down his drink and started up the stairs. He grabbed the banister to pull himself faster. Hot sweat covered his forehead, the knot in his stomach was jerking as he opened the first door, then another, then there, on the bed lay Julie, naked! In Thomas Bowden’s arms! A pain shot through Ricky’s stomach as he pounced on Thomas.
Thomas seeing Ricky’s rage, pulled a pistol from the bed-side table and tried to aim at Ricky. Julie grabbed his neck to choke him when that didn’t work she reach for the pistol and he blew her hand off. Ricky took the pistol from Thomas and shot him in the head, then he shot himself.
A week later on Halloween, three coffins were carried to Truman cemetery. To this day, Julie’s hand with Ricky’s ring has never been found. But from that time on, strange things started happening in the neighborhood on moonlit nights. The Weirton’s thought they saw Ricky looking through their bedroom window. The Bowden’s heard scratching at their doors. The old mansion on Truman Hill stands empty but lights mysteriously go off and on by themselves.
Nobody goes trick-or-treating in Middleport anymore. If they hear scratching or knocking at night, they don’t dare open their doors. Ricky has never given up his search for the killer. Until this day, he crawls through the thick darkness thirsting for the blood of a murderer.
© 2003 Sue D. Frye
Frye is the winner Mochamemoirs.com Halloween contest.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Gazing Into Space With A Silly Grin On My Face
Woot!!! I had nearly given up on hearing from my publisher concerning the illustrationing of my upcoming PB, when the phone rang! It was her! My fabtabulous publisher, Dindy. She said she had an illustrator interested in my book and that he was ANXIOUS to start! The only thing holding up the process now is the time thing. They have to find the right time to get all their working ideas on paper for my PB. I'm sure that the illustrator has done several mock-ups by now. That's what I do when I'm planning something. I make a rough draft of it in my mind, then on paper, then rework it all into some sort of orderlly fashion that can be improved upon, little by little, over time.
(Gazing into space with a silly grin on my face) I wonder what the cover will look like? And the other illustrations? And the book? I know that I will love it no matter what. I just hope, hope, hope everyone else will too. I've been gathering information for months concerning the advertisement and promotion of books. I've been working on a media kit, press releases, and yes, my own web site; which has been really hard for me because I'm not WEB SAVVY. This week I will make personal contact with all my local bookstores and libraries. I have already developed a working relationship with a radio station and my local newspapers via the traditional grassroots music that I help host and PR for every weekend at the Stables in our local state park. What else? What else? I have a wordzillion other projects to complete before next month. I hope I don't forget to do something really important like, finish editing my novel!
(Gazing into space with a silly grin on my face) I wonder what the cover will look like? And the other illustrations? And the book? I know that I will love it no matter what. I just hope, hope, hope everyone else will too. I've been gathering information for months concerning the advertisement and promotion of books. I've been working on a media kit, press releases, and yes, my own web site; which has been really hard for me because I'm not WEB SAVVY. This week I will make personal contact with all my local bookstores and libraries. I have already developed a working relationship with a radio station and my local newspapers via the traditional grassroots music that I help host and PR for every weekend at the Stables in our local state park. What else? What else? I have a wordzillion other projects to complete before next month. I hope I don't forget to do something really important like, finish editing my novel!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Kentucky Hullabaloo
AN AUTHORS JOURNAL Wednesday, April 11, 2007
It's Hullabaloo month here in the Bluegrass land of Kentucky. So while all my Kangawrite buddies are in Arizona having the time of their life’s at a book fair, SIGH! I’ll be singing, playing the mandolin and carrying coffee to the other band members. The music and festivities won't start until later toward the weekend but we'll arrive three days early to get the lowdown on everything before it starts. Hmmmm! Don't take me wrong. I love music, especially bluegrass, but I really hate to miss the book fair! I sent my publisher Dindy an email. I wanted to let her know that I'm getting antsy waiting for my picture book "Bad Dragonflies" to come out. Plus, I wanted to ask her a question namely, should I just sit here waiting or should I be doing something to prepare for the mementos event? Anyway, I just got a new notebook laptop and I'm writing this to try it out. Just one question. “Now that I finally got my laptop, will my writing improve?
It's Hullabaloo month here in the Bluegrass land of Kentucky. So while all my Kangawrite buddies are in Arizona having the time of their life’s at a book fair, SIGH! I’ll be singing, playing the mandolin and carrying coffee to the other band members. The music and festivities won't start until later toward the weekend but we'll arrive three days early to get the lowdown on everything before it starts. Hmmmm! Don't take me wrong. I love music, especially bluegrass, but I really hate to miss the book fair! I sent my publisher Dindy an email. I wanted to let her know that I'm getting antsy waiting for my picture book "Bad Dragonflies" to come out. Plus, I wanted to ask her a question namely, should I just sit here waiting or should I be doing something to prepare for the mementos event? Anyway, I just got a new notebook laptop and I'm writing this to try it out. Just one question. “Now that I finally got my laptop, will my writing improve?
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Wilds of March
Thank goodness spring is nearly here. Although, snow is falling outside my window. I love the snow but I'm so ready for spring. Spring is a time of new beginings. I bought a few packs of flower seed for planting. I planted some daffadils near my front steps. And, yes I submitted my newest picture book to five agents and one to the Highlights for children mystery contest. I have already received two rejections from agents. So now, I'm chewing my fingernails, waiting for the other three rejections to appear. In the meantime I have another story forming in my head that I need to get out and on paper. Plus, I need to go ahead and sub a few more of my finished stories to different agents or publishers. There must be a better way of organizing stories, subs, rejections and agent/publisher addresses! But, I haven't found it yet. Which reminds me, I should rewrite my recently critiqued chapter book and get it into circulation. I hope I spelled cirulation, right. Me and my husband, George didn't get home from (Pickin-N-the Park) 'til midnight, so I slept in late again. The Stable was full last night. The crowd keeps getting larger and larger. We had four groups of Bluegrass bands show up and play. My daughter, Priscilla song as well. Everyone loves to hear her sang. One of the bands want to get her in a recording studio. They said it only takes one hit song, and she would be set for life. I just glad that she got over her shyness. She got into the mic good last night and everyone loved it. I'll be busy the rest of this week. We have practice nearly every day. But, I intend to work some more on this site and get a few blurbs of my work up, and add a story or some poems to read for free.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Ten Foot Pole
I think that the snows are over. Whew! If it were not for being bogged down with work, I would certainly have a bad case of Cabin Fever. LOL. That's the name of one of my poems. It took a second place award in a contest. Does that necessarily make me an award winner poet? I don't know but awarding winning, has a wonderful ring to it! Anyway, getting back to reality, I've worked my buns off this past week on a couple of stories that I want to sub to, Highlights. My problem is, I never seem to get anything finished. I write and rewrite. Tighten, cut and de-word (I think I might have just made up a new word here). The problem is every time I read my work, I find more to change! Errgh!
I think that most writers have this problem. We create our lovely little child or story, and want it to be the very best. So, I guess all the anxiety that goes with being a perfectionist, is what it really takes to be a professional author. You can't just write something down and throw it out there to be torn apart by strangers. After all, it is your baby. It's the fruit of your loins. So make good and sure your story is ready to take it's rightful place on a book shelf before letting a stranger uncover its perfectly delightful pages. Check to make sure it's well behaved, polite, clean and interesting. And remember, everyone loves a cute, giggling baby, but if it needs to be changed . . .no one will want to touch it with a ten foot pole!
I think that most writers have this problem. We create our lovely little child or story, and want it to be the very best. So, I guess all the anxiety that goes with being a perfectionist, is what it really takes to be a professional author. You can't just write something down and throw it out there to be torn apart by strangers. After all, it is your baby. It's the fruit of your loins. So make good and sure your story is ready to take it's rightful place on a book shelf before letting a stranger uncover its perfectly delightful pages. Check to make sure it's well behaved, polite, clean and interesting. And remember, everyone loves a cute, giggling baby, but if it needs to be changed . . .no one will want to touch it with a ten foot pole!
Monday, February 19, 2007
A Wonderful Year for Beginnings
Welcome to my journal, created on this snowy day in Febuary, 2007. I created this journal as a way of keeping up with my writing projects and ideas. I will add information about my projects as I write, rewrite and rewrite. LOL. This will also be my own little rant room! I don't intend to write in it everyday, nor once a week . . .maybe once a month. If you have any questions, I will try to answer them as I get the time. You may email me at csdfrye@netscape.com. Let me know if I may answer your question in my online journal. Please let me know if you find a mistake on this page. I would love to hear from you!
Thanks for visiting my journal,
Sue
Thanks for visiting my journal,
Sue
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