I’ve been meaning to make a book trailer for about a year now, perhaps longer. Lots of things have been stopping me, the biggest hurdle being I don’t know how to make a book trailer. The software I have is limited (I want Adobe After Effects, but my old Mac is incapable of supporting it), I’m a writer and not a video editor, and the only voice I have for the voiceover work is my own. Continue reading
I’m asked this question a lot: “How are book sales going?” I know when people ask, they mean well. They know I’ve written and published a book, and they’re making friendly conversation, being supportive, and so forth. I know that, I know that, I know that. But that’s not how I hear the question.
***EDITED NOTE added Jan 11: I got a comment (you can read it in the comment section) suggesting that this post has me come off as defensive and negative. That was never my intention, as I strive to make all of my posts swing more positive, attempting to execute my mission through humor and dry wit. Therefore I’ve since gone through and colored the existing jokes green (because green is a nice color) and even added more jokes to it alongside the existing joke by using parentheses (I love parenthesis, can’t you tell?), so you know I’m not a meanie or constantly feeling sorry for myself. I say “constantly” because sometimes I do feel sorry for myself. Especially when it’s cold and I’m hungry. Who doesn’t? But I didn’t write this hungry or cold. I’ve also highlighted some important text blue (blue is another fantastic color) so it jumps out. If there is bold blue text beside it, that was added. Anything bold has been added to the original post. END NOTE.***
An excerpt from Jaden BakerWilliam tossed him into his room, and Jaden collided with the door as it slid shut. The anger he felt was real, even though he was following his first rule of resistance when beneficial. He’d scored a tiny victory in keeping Dalton out of his head for one more day. Today’s rebellion rekindled his desire for immediate freedom.
I don’t want to know how the world will end. I’d rather the when, how, and why be totally mysterious. Maybe I won’t even be alive to see it, having died peacefully in my sleep before the end comes. Though should I be around for the event, I hope it rains cupcakes, not frogs, fire, or anything too hellish. I can always hope, right?
Libby needed drugs. Obvious signs of misery approached, and if she didn’t get her hands on four ibuprofen soon, she would spend the rest of the day in agony, cursing the heavens and all its residents. Restocking her mobile pharmacy (her purse) with a dozen pills for situations like this had never slipped her stupid mind before. Except today. She hated herself. Continue reading