Here is an excerpt from an interview I did with examiner.com. (The first thing you will notice, if you decide to take a look at the interview in its entirety, is the original Just Beneath the Surface book cover.)
“Have you ever gotten an inspirational book-related moment at work and had to go run and write and it down?
I am constantly having to run and write things down! I have ideas, plots, and character ideas popping into my mind at nearly every moment of every day. When I did work, I put the ideas in my phone or emailed them to myself so I would not forget them.” examiner.com interview
So … since throughout this week, I will be sharing excerpts and interviews, I thought that today, I would share a few things you may not have known.
1. When I self-published last year, I remember someone telling me that if you are putting more funds into self-publishing, than what you are bringing in, you are making a huge mistake.
I took the advice to the extreme a bit. No, I definitely took it to the extreme. Past extreme. I thought that I would create my own book cover. Yes — my own book cover. If you read the above interview, you will see the book cover I made before I met designer, Laura of llpix.com.
2. My mind is suspended in the clouds with the characters in my novels when I’m writing and editing.
Once I am finished, I do not enjoy going back to read what I have written. That is why I do not share very many excerpts; I tell myself that I am going to, but once I start reading my novels, I start deleting and changing things. It neverrrr stops.
For that reason, I do not like going back to look at “old” projects. Not because I am not elated and excited to share, but because if I don’t step away, I will critique myself, change things, remove paragraphs, chapters, people, until the pages are completely blank.
3. I finally have a home, an indie publisher, for my books. But I’m still terrified of sharing excerpts, much less submitting my stuff for reviews.
But each new day is a new opportunity to release that fear; I’ve gotten much better, and today, I have an excerpt to share:
Why did I have to let those hands touch me? Why was I staring at him and watching him touch me? Those mean punishing hands. Those violent raging fists. But not now — now they were so gentle. They massaged my hands so tenderly it practically tickled. He ran his fingers up and down the inside of my left arm and shook his head as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Why had I not pulled away? What kind of sick gluten for punishment was I? Rationale, which for me happened to be bloody memories, flooded my mind. Just as I managed to think a sound thought and attempted to take my arms away from his tender touch, he moved up to my collar bone, then my face. His fingertips began apologizing, grazing over my cheeks. He closed his eyes and stepped toward me until our bodies touched. He kept walking toward me until we were both against the wall. He then buried his face in my blouse as he began to weep.
“I’m so sorry,” said Spencer. “Do you understand me? I’m so, so sorry.”