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New tools make self-publishing e-books easier – USATODAY.com

New tools make self-publishing e-books easier – USATODAY.com.

I think anyone aspiring to have their writing published will enjoy this article.  I found it useful and full of good information.

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My New Short Story – The Honeybee Fiasco

What would you do if your house was suddenly attacked by a swarm of honeybees? Roger and Katrina had never thought to answer that question until one fateful day when it happened to them. Laugh along with them as Roger retells the story in his special, witty way.

My new short story is now on review with Amazon.  I published it a little late due to internet failures during the weekend, but it is now uploaded and I will have the buy-link here on my blog some time tomorrow.  You can look for it on Amazon now, if you like, or wait until you see the buy-link posted here.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Update: I have now added the buy-link on the cover art as well as a pop-up description of the story.

 

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Week #30 of Julia’s 100 Word challenge For Grown Ups

100wcgu-7

This week’s prompt is “…it wasn’t my fault…”

The challenge is to complete your entry with 100 words or less, creating a story or verbal image that captures the imagination.  You can enter your own entry at Julia’s 100 Word Challenge For Grownups.

Also, be sure to visit the 100 Word Challenge for schools, where the idea originated.

This is still following my Valentine’s Day theme, albeit in a twisted sort of way.  Enjoy!

Confession

“It wasn’t my fault” she said.

“Who said anything about it being your fault?” said the detective with a sidelong look to his partner.

“He was my boyfriend.”

“Really?  For how long?” said the second detective.

“Almost a year.”

“Was he seeing anyone else?” said the first detective.

“Yes, but he didn’t care about her.  If he had just listened to me none of this would have happened”

“What would you have told him?”

“What does it matter now?”

“What indeed?”

“Should I call a lawyer?”

“We said you were entitled to one.”

“Maybe I should… It wasn’t my fault”

 

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Liebster Blog Award

For Excellent Blogging

Yesterday I was nominated for the Liebster Blog Award by the wonderful Kourtney Heintz.  I’m not sure but I think it has something to do with the German word for love – liebe, and I assume the reason she awarded me this is the Valentine’s Day theme of many of my posts this past week.  Thank you so much Kourtney!  I appreciate it!  As soon I figure out how to pass this on and to whom it should be passed on to, I will do so with honor.

Update February 8, 2012:  Okay, I have found more information on the award from Colline’s Blog

What is the Liebster Blog Award exactly? Leibster is a German word meaning dearest. However, in the context of blog writing, it can also mean favourite. The award is given to bloggers who have less than 200 followers in acknowledgement of the good articles and posts they have written. In presenting a fellow blogger with the reward, the nominee is encouraging him/her to continue creating interesting and inspiring posts.

The rules fo receiving the Liebster Blog Award are as follows:

  1. Thank the fellow blogger who nominated you. (Thank you once again Kourtney)
  2. Link back to the person who awarded you.
  3. List five blogs that have affected your writing in a positive manner.
  4. Leave comments on those blogs to let them know of the nominations.
  5. Post the award on your blog.

My Nominees for the Liebster Blog Award


Tiffany at Details in the Fabric..

Sajib at AIS Journal

Gilly Gee at Lucid Gypsy (But she already has one)

Angeline at Angelinem’s Blog

Technospunky Blah Blah Blogging Around The Internet

Laura at The Right Mood

Nick at Mad Hatter Miscellany

 
8 Comments

Posted by on February 8, 2012 in Authors, Awards, Blogs, Valentine's Day

 

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Story Competition

I found another writing competition to enter.  I like these things.  This one has nine story cubes, like dice, that generate nine little pictures as prompts.  In addition, there’s a 350 word limit.  Good idea for a creative writing competition, Hannah.

Here’s my entry.

The Book

By Roger Engle

(345 words)

The shooting star arced across the sky.  It seemed like a streak of light, but that’s because it was moving so fast.  There was a roar, the ground trembled and they realized it was approaching, not simply crossing their field of view.  A thundering roar, the fireball skimmed the treetops, crashing a half-kilometer from them.  The explosion knocked them down with a shockwave and heat from the blast.

Tommy woke up first.  He aroused the others.  Corey was covered in ashes and debris.  They found him, shoes knocked off, red socks showing.  Derrick slapped him to wake him.

Corey looked at Tommy, Simon and Derrick, puzzled.

“Come on, man!  Get up!” said Tommy.  “Where are your shoes?”

Corey noticed his feet with surprise, and then found his shoes.  Putting them on he suggested they go examine the crater.

The boys ran through the woods until they reached a steaming furrow in the ground, uprooted trees, piled dirt on both sides, marked the spot clearly.  Steam and smoke obscured their vision.  They followed the furrow and saw an object glowing at the bottom of the crater.  Sheep from a nearby farm could be heard bleating senselessly

The object was shaped like a rectangular box with glowing symbols on it. As they stood there watching, it opened with a hiss.  They were surprised to find a book inside.  On the cover was printed, in English, the words, “How to Save Your Planet”.

“What the heck?” said Simon, wonder in his eyes “Really?”

They heard a crunching noise, saw a man touch down through swirling mist, his parachute falling behind him.  He had a patch on his shoulder in the shape of a lightning bolt.  As he slipped out of his harness his weapon came up.  “You boys will have to come with me.”

Ten minutes later a troop transport truck cleared the rise behind them and stopped within yards of the crater.  Soldiers poured out, surrounded them, weapons at ready.  Following the orders given them, they climbed the ladder into the truck.  Where were they taking them?


 

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Trifextra: Week Two

I found this blog today and figured I’d try their Trifextra Challenge.  I’m always looking for some good writing exercise in which to engage.  The challenge is to “give [us] a complete story in three sentences.”

I attempted to make this an ode to the approaching holiday; to honor lovers everywhere, while bringing to mind the euphoria that accompanies the reward for having bested every obstacle in the path of young love.  This is entitled “First Kiss”

 

 

First Kiss

Peter waits as Kelly’s lips, poised in a perfect kiss, hesitate just fractions of an inch from his.  He braved the torturous deriding of his competition, even a thrashing from her strongest pursuer, Bill Simmons, and conquered the fears and insecurities within his own heart to be under this apple tree, on this secluded hill on the backside of Mr. Hastings’s orchard watching her as she brings her lips to his to reward him.  Now his senses explode as his head swims, his heart pounds and he, lost in time and space becomes nothing but lips, tongue, the smell of blossoms and co-mingled bliss!

 

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Pulling Petals

Tulip, an actinomorphic flower with three peta...

Image via Wikipedia

I wrote this a month ago while watching the new, cinema production of  Jayne Eyre.  I guess it should be devoted to all the Valentine’s Day lovers in the blogosphere, but in my heart I can only think of one; my dear wife Katrina.

Pulling Petals

He loves me?

He loves me not?

What equitable worth might this faerie thaumaturgy bestow?

For how could it answer that she should select from the randomness of a walk through a beflowered dale, a blossom endowed with its petals as such that they are enumerated evenly or oddly, just so?  What oracle, be it sylvan or nether, could venture to tread before this love stricken soul, rapturing away any spare petals, that the bloom she doth pluck might infallibly portend the romantic success or abject failure fated for said maiden?

He loves me not?

Never say it, dear!

Can she not see?  Or perhaps she possesses not a looking-glass; but surely a momentary reflection from a pool would be sufficient; that she is much more highly endowed with beauty, fairer even than the flowers that she so freely maims in her search for an answer.  Were she to but meet head on the gaze of the young brute she so adores, she would find the reply to her inquiries glaring, no, screaming back at her.

He loves you dear lady.

How could he not?

 
7 Comments

Posted by on February 4, 2012 in Authors, Flash Fiction, Inspiration, Poetry, Writing

 

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