Author: gwencease

Best and Worst: POV

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Best & Worst

Today in our best and worst were talking about POV, or for the uninitiated, Point of View. There’s so many opinions about this one subject it’s crazy. If you go out onto the world of the Interwebz you’ll see people a ton of differing opinions on how this should be handled. Here’s just a few images I found on the subject:

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NoHeadHopping

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Yeah, I could keep going since there’s so many, but I will not give you my fabulous opinion on the whole thing.

Okay, so head hopping. They’re right, head hopping can kill your novel, UNLESS you’re Nora Roberts/JD Robb. She has the skill and subtle touch to carry it off. She is the master at it. No one else, though.

Anyone else who tries to head hop always screws it up and makes a mess. I’m sure this opinion won’t be popular, but I love Nora Roberts. I love how she puts words together to make these awesomely descriptive sentences. So, I suppose that’s the Worst of POV.

Now, the best of POV. My very favorite to read is 3rd Person Omniscient. What’s that, you ask. It’s what pretty much every single book is written in now.  Normally, you have two people you follow around and see the stories through their eyes. You might have more, if the book is really long, but two or three is the best. Anymore than that, and the story gets confusing and the possibility of head hopping occurs.

First person is also popular, especially with Cozy Mysteries. I like this POV for cozies, but, once again, if it isn’t done well, first person doesn’t work. I especially don’t think it normally works for romance. Not unless the author is really good and can balance the internal stuff with action. Truthfully, I think one of the best first person POV romance I’ve read though are by one of my besties Jessica Jarman.  Her series called Albion’s Circle is amazing. I highly recommend them.

Now go and check out what my fellow bloggers think the best and worst of POV are.

 

Bronwyn     Kris 

 

April Photo Flash Fiction

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This month’s picture is surely one that will inspire some interesting stories. I, on the other hand, stared blankly at it until two of my favorite flash fiction people Cara and Spencer popped into my head. I wrote something with them in December and January, so we’ll take another peek into their lives. Hope you enjoy it. Oh here’s the pic:

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The gallery was packed. People gushed over the artist, the artwork, the food, even the clothes worn by the guests. The whole thing gave Cara a huge headache. Her cousin Stacy—no scratch that—Deerdrah, she’d changed her name since Stacy wasn’t the name of an artist. Cara thought that was stupid since her name was Stacy and she was the artist, but whatever. Anyway, Cara’s parents had insisted she attended Deerdrah’s opening.

And who the hell had come up with the spelling of Stacy’s new name? Cara was sure the ditzy woman would go on and on about how it reflected her personality blah blah blah. Stacy had talked incessantly since they were kids and she doubted she’d changed much since then.  Thankfully, she’d spent just long enough to let Stacy know she was there and to congratulate her. If she was lucky, Cara would get out before having to see any more of her family.

After the holiday fiasco, Cara now limited her involvement with her parents. They didn’t like the man she was engaged to and wanted her to break up with him. Cara didn’t care what they wanted. She was in love with Spencer. End of story.

Her phone signaled she had a text. From Spencer. Intrigued, she unlocked it and found he had given her directions to where he was in the gallery. Following his instructions, she rounded a wall and found him standing alone in a small alcove. Damn, he was hot, from the top of his six-four tattooed body to his feet Spencer was everything she wanted in a man. Stepping up to stand next to him, she focused on what he was looking at.

The photo was bizarre, to say the least. A female, maybe, doll with hair that defied gravity and streamed at an angle from the doll’s head had some kind of wires plugged into her back. In the background looked to be a jar with lights in it, at least, that’s what Cara imagined it was since the only thing in focus was the creepy doll silhouetted against the lights. The name of the piece was Rebirth.

“Wow,” Cara muttered. “That’s interesting.”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah, it’s something.”

“I haven’t really paid much attention to what’s hanging on the walls. Are they all like this?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, this one is probably the best out of everything.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad.”

He finally caught her gaze and smiled. “You want to know what’s worse? This is one of the few pieces that haven’t sold.”

Cara leaned into him and he slid his arm around her waist. They stood together and stared at the image a moment more.

“You know what’s really bad?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“What?” he murmured against her ear.

“I think her parents have bullied a lot of people into buying this stuff.”

“Okay, that sucks.”

She laughed softly. “Yeah, could you imagine being stuck with this stuff? What would you do with it?”

He nuzzled her neck and she shivered. Without thinking, she tilted her head to give him more access. The man could turn her on without even trying and made her lose her head. Now here they stood, hidden from view of a crowd, and she didn’t care.

Spencer nudged her head up and took her lips in a kiss. His beard rubbed gently against her face as he slid his tongue into her mouth. The dual sensations made her legs shake. Cara ran her hands up his arms and locked them behind his head as he molded her body to his. The man made her lose her head, he was the only one to ever affect her in this way.

He pulled away but kept his arms around her as voices neared their hiding spot. When her parents appeared, they would just see Spencer holding Cara as they stared at the ugly photo on the wall. At least, that’s what Cara hoped they’d see.

She smiled pleasantly at her parents, though she still hadn’t forgiven them for the horrible Christmas dinner. She’d made it very clear to them that Spencer was the man she loved and they were engaged. If her parents chose to continue to act like jerks, Cara wouldn’t see the anymore.

“Mother,” Cara said.

“Cara, what did you two find?”

When she and Spencer stepped aside her mother and father studied the photo quietly. Finally, her mother shrugged.

“I don’t get this modern art. I suppose though if you two like it that’s all that matters.”

Cara started to object, but her father spoke, cutting her off.

“I’ll go talk to Deerdrah about it. I think it will make a nice wedding gift.”

Her parents moved off as she and Spencer looked at one another and began to laugh.

 

Now head on over to see what the other bloggers came up with.

Bronwyn     Siobhan

Monthly Check-in for March

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MonthlyCheck-in

Here we are at the end of another month. I can’t believe it’s almost April. The year is flying by at a stupid amount of speed. I can’t believe this weekend is Easter already. So crazy!

Anyway, I think March was a pretty awesome month, if I do say so myself.

I actually blogged every single time this month. Woo hoo!!!! Counting this post, that’s a whooping 7 times!! All in one month. I know! I’m stunned too.

Another huge accomplishment is this website!!! I have procrastinated for so long about getting one. I knew I needed one since just the blog wasn’t doing what I wanted. Also, it was starting to act all buggy. The big issue is the last time I had a website I spent so much time messing with it. I think I redid the thing 5 or 6 times and hated it every single time. It got to be this huge thing that sucked all the joy out of life. Finally, I said, “Screw it.” And just let it go.

Thankfully, I have amazing friends. First, Jessica kept texting me going, “Dude, your blog is a pain in the ass.” My pat response was, “I’m doing research on what hosting company to use.” Now, Jess has known me a really long time and she knew very well that was a flipping lie. So, Bronwyn texted me. Now I had 2 of them. I finally broke down and settled on WordPress with the amazing Bronwyn telling me she would fix the site for me.  This was my first reaction:

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Then, I did this:

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Needless to say, I love my new site. It’s beautiful and so easy to use.

Next month, I plan to once again blog every single time we’re scheduled. I’m also going to work on Entangled. I know, I know. I keep saying that, but think of it like the website. I kept saying that too and now it’s here. So I have a really good feeling about April and the book.

Head on over to check-in with my amazing writer friends:

Bronwyn    Jessica

TOP 10: BEST THINGS IN LIFE!

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03-Top 10_ Best Things in Life

Hello! And welcome to my brand new blog!!! Isn’t it beautiful?? I love it and I love Bronwyn even more since she fixed it up for me. She’s such the bomb-diggity.

Okay, so the very first official post on my new site is a top 10. I love those. As always, they are in no particular order. So, here goes.

  1. My sister. I love her. She’s my best friend, confidante, partner in crime . . . and on and on. I can’t imagine my life without her.

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2. My friends. I have the best ones ever. And, no, even if you tell me your friends are better, I will disagree since no, they’re not. Sorry. I have the best ones.

3. My kitten. Maeve is so sweet. See. Sweet.

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4. Gardens. I love them. We often travel to visit botanical gardens and we’re currently working to fix up our front yard and make it less yard and more garden. Gardens sooth and relax me.

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5. Books!! I love to read and write so yeah, books are a best thing in life ever.

6. Traveling. I love to hit the road with my sister. We’re trying to figure out where our next destination is and the possibilities are endless. I will tell you one of my favorite places is Colonial Williamsburg. Yeah, I know, total geek, but the place is utterly amazing. So much history.

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Governor’s Palace

7. Tea. If you know me, then you had to know this would make the list. I love tea as well as going to tea. We have a tea room here in town and Sis and I hit it quite often. In fact, we’ve hooked a lot of our friends into going too. There’s 7 of us going to a Mermaid Tea in April. I cannot wait.

8. Fall. I love fall. The colors, the scents, the hint of crispness in the air. To me, it also signals the start of the holidays, which is a time I love.

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9. Crafting. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that I’m a jack of all trades, mistress of none when it comes to crafts. I do a little bit of everything from knitting to jewelry making to making my own soap. There’s something so satisfying in making something, anything. And, if I can give it to a friend, that makes it even better.

10. Naps. I don’t think I even need to say more. Naps are the absolute best, especially when it’s raining. Total heaven.

Bronwyn     Jessica    Kris   Siobhan   Torrance 

NAME ONE THING YOU’VE LIED TO YOURSELF ABOUT

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I’ve started and restarted this post over and over since, to me, the subject is really deep and intense. So, the question is to name one thing I’ve lied to myself about and why. Okay, here goes  . . . oh and before I do let me say


I was sexually molested when I was a child. I don’t have an exact age. I always say six, seven, or eight since I’m not sure. I know I was little and I know who it was – a cousin who is five or six years older than me.  Once the abuse stopped, I “forgot.” 

Not really. Let’s just say my mind tucked it away. I refused to recognize it for what it was. Any time an image of the abuse would flash in my mind, I’d unconsciously push it away. Nope, that’s nothing. Nothing to see here. Move along.

Over time, I became an expert at the lie. If the image floated up, I’d make it disappear almost instantly. I never questioned all the billions of issues that I had. In fact, I never gave any of it, especially the PTSD, a thought. 

The longer I lied to myself, the easier the lie became. Until, a doctor presented me with the evidence. She said the much hated words – sexual abuse. My mind was saying, “Oh no, you must be wrong.” My mouth was saying something totally different, “My mother doesn’t even know.”

I panicked. An out and out panic attack. I ran away. Oh, after I screamed at the doctor the above sentence a couple of times. I’m sure I scarred her since she was a brand new doctor. Poor thing. 

Once this happened, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I had to look at the memories and recognize what they were. What happened. Who it was. How it affected me. Then I had to deal with it all. Which took for freaking ever. Between the abuse, PTSD, and the clinical depression my 20s and early 30s sucked major donkey balls. 

Things are certainly better now. I still have the depression, which can get bad, but for the most part the other stuff has . . . subsided. It’s not gone. It’ll never be gone, but it doesn’t take over my life either. 





SONG FLASH MARCH 2018

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The song this month was one I had never heard of by a group I hadn’t heard of either. As soon as I heard it, I liked it. A lot. It immediately brought a scene to mind starring a character from my November flash fiction, Raisa and her dragon troubles. 

The song is called Patsheeva by a group called Circa Paleo

If you want you can take a listen here.


     Raisa moved through the tunnels of the cave, barely aware of her surroundings. She crawled when she needed to crawl and climbed when required. She was on the scent. The Guild wasn’t, at one point, known as thieves for nothing. Of course, most Guild members didn’t go out with the idea of stealing from a dragon. Or, if they did, they didn’t last long. Here she was though, stealing from a dragon.
     Perhaps, there really wasn’t a dragon. Maybe all the stories were just that, stories. Dragons weren’t seen much anymore. They kept to themselves and were normally found deep, deep in mountain ranges. This cave really wasn’t that far from the city. Not really. It had taken her about four hours to drive and another hour to hike to the entrance. For a dragon, that wasn’t much. And, no matter what she tried to tell herself, a dragon was here. Somewhere. Her senses told her. Led her ever closer.
     Raisa inched her way along a thin ledge and cursed her brother and her own stupidity for ending up in this situation. The Semenov’s had obviously used her brother to get to her. Of course, it didn’t take much since Georgi was a complete and utter idiot who imagined himself as a big player in the city. He wasn’t. He was a pawn and now so was she.
     She should have ignored the Semenov’s offer to meet with her. Her senses told her to ignore it, but instead she went hoping to talk them into a solution that didn’t have her stealing from a dragon. They not only didn’t want to talk, but they stamped their seal on her. A seal she was to understand that never came off. She was, in effect, their property. Forever. This was what they wanted all along. They didn’t care about Georgi, but about her. Her skills.
     The research in the Guild archives would hopefully pay off. The only thing that could cancel out the family seal of a Wyrm was a dragon. She hoped like hell she could figure out how to convince the dragon to do whatever needed to be done. And, this whole asinine plan depended on her ability to discuss the situation with a being who wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about her problems. Well, if the dragon ate her, it would solve the seal issue once and for all.
     Raisa felt the heat first. Not unpleasant, in fact, it felt good after the chill of the cave. Her stomach in knots, she moved forward carefully. She was close, her senses screamed at her wanting her to run, but she refused. She had to get this done.
     Next, came the light. Not like from the sun, but as if from fire. A warm fire on a cold winter’s night. Yep, just keep that thought in your head, Raisa told herself. Comfort, warm, friendly. She almost laughed. Nothing, not even strong drink, was going to convince herself she was heading to a warm, snuggly fire.
     Taking a deep breath, she moved out of the tight corridor into a massive cavern. Or, at least, she assumed it was massive. She couldn’t look around and investigate her surroundings since her gaze was pinned on the enormous dragon. The enormous dragon who lay curled up on his hoard. The enormous dragon who lay curled up on his hoard watching her with beautiful sea green eyes.
     “Well, well, well,” the deep male voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once. “What do we have here?”
     Raisa gulped back a scream. She couldn’t imagine that would impress him over much. Her screaming and flailing around like a Muppet wouldn’t make a great first impression. No sudden moves, she told herself, and bowed low before him.
     “So, thief, why don’t you tell me why you’re here before I eat you.”

     Raisa stepped forward to bargain with a dragon.



MARCH PROMPTLY PENNED

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This month the prompt consists of the line: “It’s okay. You don’t have to love me.” I wasn’t really sure what to do with it, but I finally came up with an idea. It’s not very long, but I hope you like it.

     “Then he said, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to love me.’ My first thought was, you’re damn straight, there, buck wheat.”
     Dana burst out laughing, almost shooting Pepsi out her nose. “You didn’t say that, did you?”
     Her best friend, Gina, rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. I said, ‘That’s good, because I don’t.’”
     “Well, yeah, you’ve only been dating…what? Two weeks?”
     “If that, so I am definitely not in love with him.”
     Dana shook her head. “So, he thinks he’s in love with you?”
     “Hell no,” Gina said, “he just wants in my pants. Because after he delivered his line worthy of a B-grade film he said, ‘Just let me love you.’ Then he grabbed one of my tits.”
     Dana really tried not to laugh, she really did, but just couldn’t help it. Her best friend ended up in the most bizarre situations with the most bizarre men. There’d been the guy who claimed he was an actor, which he wasn’t. He was an usher at the theatre. Another guy said he was an award-winning song writer and told Gina he’d written songs like Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You, but that the singer had stolen it. And, on and on. Dana really couldn’t remember the last normal guy Gina had dated.
     “And then what happened?” Dana couldn’t stop herself from asking.
     “Oh, he dropped his pants and revealed he wasn’t wearing underwear. What he did have was a tattoo that said love machine right above his dick.”
     “You can’t make this shit up.”
     Gina smiled. “Oh, hell no, I don’t have this good of an imagination.”
     “So, what did you do?”
     “I slapped his hand off my tit, grabbed my purse and left. He tried to run after me, but, instead, tripped over his pants and fell out into the main hall of his apartment building. The elderly lady who lives across the hall came out then and screamed since he was naked. I didn’t stay around to find out what happened then.”
     “I’m so sorry, but this stuff only happens to you.”
     “I know and this is why I’m taking a break from dating. Hopefully, if I give it a few months the weirdos will have all found other people and I can find somebody, at least, half way normal.”
     “Okay, that’s not what I expected to hear. You once told me that if you didn’t have a date for the weekend you’d shrivel up and waste away.”
     “Obviously, I’m stupid. And, if I would waste away it’d be preferable to the men I’ve been seeing.”
     Dana shook her head. “That’s just it. You’re not dating men, you’re dating boys. Maybe you need to start looking somewhere other than the bars and clubs for guys to date.”
     Gina smiled. “You’re brilliant. I’ll join an online dating site.”

     Jumping up, she raced out of the room before Dana had a chance to respond. Sitting back in her chair, she knew, without a doubt, there were more weirdos in Gina’s future. With the internet, the pool was going to be wider and deeper. Dana didn’t know whether to be afraid or excited at the prospect of even more entertainment.



MARCH WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

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Welcome to the wordlessness that is Wednesday. This year we get to share whatever pics we want for each wordless post. First, I’m never wordless no matter what and second, it’s going to be so hard. I have tons of pics to share. 

I think, though, for March’s wordless I’ll share pics from my trip to Charlotte. If you’ve never been, the city is so nice and I love the Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens. I hope you enjoy them.


Bronwyn    Jessica    Siobhan    

MARCH PHOTO FLASH FICTION

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This month we are all creating a piece around the picture above. So many thoughts, so many ideas Hopefully, you’ll like what I did.

   Shattered glass. The screams of men. The scent of blood and burning rubber. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream. Blood choked him as he attempted to gasp in a breath.
   Gabriel jerked himself awake and frantically searched the room. Dream. It had been a dream. Pain shot through his left knee, it was a dream now. What he dreamed was real or had been real. Fuck, he wasn’t sure anymore. He scrubbed a shaky hand over his sweaty face and tried to slow his breathing.
Eight months. He’d been stateside for eight months. And, for almost every night of those eight months, he had the same dream. The same memory. Roadside IED punching a hole through his transport. Blood, screaming, bodies. He’d been one of the lucky ones. He’d lived. He had all his fingers and toes, if not his sanity.
   Rising, he limped to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He needed to wash away the sweat and the lingering unease the dream always brought on. He braced his hands on the wall and let the hot water pour down over his body. Slowly, his muscles unknotted and, though, he was more relaxed, he knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep.
   He turned the water off and grabbed a towel. The clock on the wall read five-thirty. He didn’t have PT until almost ten and he certainly didn’t want to hang around the apartment. If anyone could call the tiny four hundred square foot space by anything so grand. It was a box, he knew that, but he hadn’t been looking for much. All he’d been focused on was finding a place to sleep and store some of his stuff. That was it.
   His cousin, Callan, had offered to let him crash at his place, but there was no way. The man’s bed was a revolving door and Gabriel didn’t want to stay in someplace he didn’t feel was secure. So, he’d taken the first place he looked at. It wasn’t much, but it certainly beat most of his past accommodations.
   After he dressed, he grabbed up his laptop bag and slowly made his way out of the building. Turning right, he moved down the sidewalk. He was aware of everything and everyone around him as he made his way to the coffee bar that was becoming his second home. The place opened at six and, more often than not, Gabriel was in his regular seat with a drink by six-ten.
   He stepped in the door and paused to quickly survey the space. The only person in the entire space, was the lady behind the counter. She looked up and smiled at him.
   “Good morning,” she called.
   “Morning.” He stepped up to the counter.
   “So, what can I get you this morning? Are you sticking with what you normally order or are you going to branch out?”
   “I’ll stick with the regular.”
   She poured plain black coffee into a cup and handed it to him. He paid her and moved to the table he always occupied. It was situated in the corner with a wide-open view of the entire place. He pulled out his laptop and booted it up. While he waited, he sipped from his cup. He didn’t know what she did, but her coffee was damn good. That’s why he came every day, well that and the fact that, he didn’t make her nervous.
   He knew he made people nervous, between his size and the fact that he wasn’t much of a people person, okay, he wasn’t a people person period. He’d had his fill of people so didn’t feel the need to socialize. Claire, though, didn’t seem to mind. He knew that was her name since she owned the coffee bar and the place was called Coffee by Claire.
   So different. His life was nothing as it had been. Wouldn’t be again. And IED and shattered glass made sure of that. Gabriel glanced up as Claire slid a warm cinnamon muffin on his table.
   “I didn’t order this.”
   “I know,” she said, with a smile. “I figured my most loyal customer deserved a muffin.”

   She moved away, her long tail of blonde hair a stream down her back. He picked up the muffin and bit into cinnamon, butter, and warmth. His life may be totally different than what he’d planned, but he’d take it and figure it out. It certainly beat the alternative.