Do You Hear What I Hear?

It is nearly Valentine’s Day which means Christmas is over. But a Christmas song is still running through my head.

The reason Do You Hear What I Hear? is playing in my mind has to do with my last post to y’all (I’ve been in the South two years, so I've earned the right to talk like that now). In that post I promised to tell you about an exciting new twist in writing and marketing books.

A few weeks ago, I received the first fifteen-minute sample of the audio version of Willard Manor. It is being done professionally by ACX, the audio division of Amazon. I listened to the sample, suggested a few minor changes, and a revised sample was then sent to me. I okayed that sample and now the entire book is being made into an audio book which should be completed by the end of March. Hooray! 

You might be wondering how expensive it is to use this service. I’m happy to tell you that it is costing me nothing. Zero. Zip. Nada. They make their money by taking half of any royalties I earn on the sale of my audio version. Since my sales of print or digital versions haven’t exactly put me in a different tax bracket, I’m afraid they might not make much. And the half of the royalties I get will be like found money. 

I was able to choose if I wanted a male or female to read my book, what age range the voice should be, what accent the reader should use, and what tone of voice the reader should have. The fifteen-minute sample was to see if I chose correctly for the way I wanted the book to sound. Beverly is the woman performing Willard Manor for me. When this book is finished, I will ask Beverly to do the audio version of my book, Leaving Mark.

There is nothing like writing a book and then clutching those first hot-off-the-press copies to your chest, smelling the print and running your hand over the cover. Now, with ACX, you can utilize yet another sense—hearing. It is an absolute thrill to sit back and listen to your words being read by a professional storyteller. You experience your book in an entirely new way and, let me tell you, it is mind blowing!
 

My audio version should be available through Amazon in March or April; I’ll keep you advised.

In the meantime, Happy Valentine’s Day! 

 Quote of the Day: The hearing ear, and the seeing eye; the Lord hath made even both of them. Proverbs 20:12

The Start of a New Book

By  now you've all heard about my novel, Willard Manor.  Probably more than you ever wanted to!  Well, for the last few months, I've been working on a prequel to that novel, meaning it's the back story of one of the book's characters. 

The new novel is called Leaving Mark and I want to give you a taste of it by giving  you the prologue.  Here is how the book starts:

Leaving Mark

Prologue

July 16, 1957.  Shots were fired.  The peace and quiet of the New Haven Green was shattered as people scurried in all directions desperately trying to find a place to hide.  The bearded hot dog vendor cried out then crumpled to the freshly-cut grass, relish dripping into his puddle of blood.  A woman, dressed in a navy blue suit and heels, fell backwards, her briefcase scattering its contents on the Green.  Attorney Leonard Fortier, who left his office in the Fisher Building to grab a quick lunch, was shot as soon as he stepped outside.  The wild-eyed gunman then aimed the gun at himself and pulled the trigger.

Survivors waited until no more shots were heard before cautiously emerging from their hiding places.  They looked in stunned silence at the carnage.  The New Haven Green quickly came to life as a building security guard put in a hurried call for help and onlookers came to the aid of those who were dead or injured.Flashing lights of ambulances and police cars, their sirens screaming, ascended on the grizzly scene and, as if out of nowhere, television and newspaper reporters appeared, rushing to get the scoop only to be shooed away by the police.

When the shooting began, Eleanor Rawley had been sitting on a bench enjoying her hot dog.  After the first shot, she crouched behind the bench  and from that vantage point saw her boss, Attorney Fortier, exit the building and collapse on the grass.  When it was all over, she ran to her boss calling his name, but when she saw his blood pooling on the walkway, she let out a scream and collapsed next to him.

Eleanor came to in the arms of a New Haven policeman.  He checked her for any visible wounds while an EMT tended to Len.  In a shaky voice, Eleanor said, “We have to call Mabel . . . his wife!”

The Green was buzzing with first responders, ambulances and gurneys.  Cries and wails were loud enough to be heard over the sirens.  Inside the lobby of the Fisher Building, people lined up at the two pay phones.Ten minutes ago the Green had been a peaceful refuge from stuffy law offices; now, four people lay dead. 

And Mark‘s life would be forever changed. 


Stay tuned for more to come.

Quote of the Day: Books cannot be killed by fire.  People die, but books never die. Franklin D. Roosevelt

Snow, Snow Go Away--And Don't Bother to Come Back Another Day

Willard Manor is in the hands of a publisher. Now, if you could all cross your fingers and keep them crossed for the next month or two, I’d appreciate it. I found a publisher that accepts manuscripts only once a year--during the month of February. It’s a small press run by one woman. I sent her a query letter with the first three chapters of my novel and, lo and behold, she asked me to send her the entire manuscript to look at. You can bet I got my baby in the mail to her lickety split.  Now it’s time to wait. And wait. I’ll let you know when I hear back from her, whatever the result may be. Could be yea, could be nay.

Breaking news— we just had two Tuesdays in a row without snow! I was beginning to dread Tuesdays because it snowed every Tuesday for the last few weeks. It snowed a little on Tuesday, February 11 and the next day, Wednesday while we were at the doctor’s office (diagnosis: bronchitis), it snowed heavily and by the time we left the office, six inches of snow covered the ground, the truck, and the walkway and it was still snowing. We weren’t dressed for snow and had to gingerly make our way to the truck through snow that came up over our shoes. That was the easy part.

To get my prescription, Fred had to drive through a carpet of white where there was no definition as to what was road and what wasn’t. Snow plows? This area doesn’t know what a snow plow is. We got the prescription and drove home, going no faster than fifteen miles an hour. It took us thirty minutes to travel six miles. Not being able to tell where the road was, Fred just drove right down the middle hoping he wasn’t driving on someone’s lawn. We got home safe and sound, thank heavens. We were snowed in for three days; school was closed for four days. It’s a wonder the kids remember what school is because it’s been closed so much due to snow--the snow that this area never gets, according to the locals.

Now there is no sign of snow anywhere, the robins are back running around the lawn, and my bronchitis is over with. I’m ready for spring! How about you?

Today's Quote:  Hope springs eternal in the human breast.  Alexander Pope

Birth of a Nation; Birth of Willard Manor

This week we celebrate July Fourth and our country’s 237th birthday.  My how the country has grown!  From a fledgling rudimentary sparsely populated land to a well-connected, highly evolved (invention-wise) nation with all the latest gidgets and gadgets.  Thomas Jefferson would be lost in any office today--from getting there in an automobile, to hearing the constant din of telephones, fax machines, printers, and piped in music, to say nothing of having the world glow before him on a computer screen.  The quill pen in his hand would be useless with no ink bottles in sight.

All of this preamble is a sneaky way of letting you know about my new novel due out soon, called Willard Manor.  Willard Manor is a house, built in 1840, by John Willard, in a fictitious town in the middle of Connecticut.  As the country grows and changes, so, too, does Willard Manor.  Many generations of one family occupy this house over a period of 170 years and each generation “modernizes” it to some extent by adding indoor plumbing, electricity, a telephone, septic tank, and, eventually, a television set.  And along the way, the horse in the shed is replaced by a Model T Ford.

In researching for this novel, I learned many interesting things.  Among them:
How to build lath and plaster walls
The route of the Underground Railroad
When telephones and electricity were available for the masses
When polio was rampant and its treatment
How to build a still during Prohibition
The Civil War, WWI And WWII
The Great Depression
How to grow marijuana.

In reading this book, you will become aware that Willard Manor is a micro version of the United States.  It grows and expands, has heartaches and victories, births and deaths, yet, through it all, it stands strong, ready to face the future.

I will let you know when Willard Manor is available both on Amazon and on Kindle.

Here’s a short excerpt from the book:
“Listen,” said Shelley.  “Can’t you hear the voices?”  
Tony raised his eyebrows.  “Excuse me, but exactly what voices do you hear? Should I be calling the men in the white coats?”
“No, silly, I’m perfectly sane.  I just know this house is trying to tell us something.  So many people lived here over the years, so much has happened, right in these very rooms.  I wish I knew their stories.” 
 
Today’s Quote:  Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, 'Grow, grow.'  The Talmud