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Media Madness for Writers!

I recently signed a publishing contract for Stone Man, a middle-reader’s historical novel. This was a NaNoWriMo manuscript, the only one I ever attempted as I am a slow typist. (write a novel in 1 month) I have included a link to their website. This is the biggest one, but a little Googling will find others.

https://nanowrimo.org/

Also unique for this novel, I found my publisher through a Twitter Pitch. Once a or so a year, different organizations bring agents and editors together. If they LIKE your pitch, you are invited to submit to them. There are many. I have included a few that I am familiar with. (do background checks-don’t assume anything)

www.pitchwars.org

http://www.pbpitch.com/

#IWSGpit

I signed a publishing contract with Dancing Lemur Press for my middle-readers (ages 8 to 12) historical novel, Stone Man: Trail of Tears. It will be released in October 2019 in paperback and eBook formats.

After Twelve-year-old Tsatsi and his sister separate from their family during the Cherokee Trail of Tears, a giant Tsatsi thinks is Stone Man drags her to his lair. Tsatsi fights him, dodges renegades, and hides from soldiers as he and his sister try to reunite with their family in the Smoky Mountains.

Though Dancing Lemur Press welcomes bookstore and book signing sales, their focus is in school and library sales.

http://www.dancinglemurpressllc.com/

 

 

 

 

 

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Under the full moon, they make trades, but what are they trading? Weapons of war? My heart does ache. In the shadows, they become friends, but is it the friendship of peacemakers or warriors? I fear for the future.

Tonight, is the Cherokee Trading Moon, Nudadaequa, ᏄᏓᏓᎡᏆ, where people gathered from afar to trade. It is also the time of the Friendship Festival, Adohuna, ᎠᏙᎱᎾ, where friendship was made or renewed.

Take care, my friends.

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Beware!

The chanting mourners march out of the cave. Who died? Why are they marching? What will they do? Beware the Mourning Full Moon tonight. You may be in danger.

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A Visit from Old Pilgrim

 

Charles Suddeth

Clement Clarke Moore, I do apologize. I just couldn’t resist.

 

Twas the night before Thanksgiving, when all through the hut

Not a critter was awake, not even a mutt;

The dishes were slung by the chimney so bare,

In hopes that Old Pilgrim soon might be there;

The kiddies were all tucked in their sleeping bags;

While stories of goodies fluttered like red flags;

And my wife in her nightie, and I with my booze,

Had just crawled into the sack for a good long snooze,

But out on the street there came such a god-awful crash,

I leapt from my couch and ran like a flash,

Away to the bedroom window I surely did go,

Opened the drapes and blinds to see the show,

A full moon on the cusps of ice-laden snow,

Gave a high-noon shine to objects aglow,

But to my fog-laden old eyes I did see,

A little ole cart and eight gobbling turkeys,

With a gnarled old driver so proper and grim,

I knew without doubt it must be Old Pilgrim.

More bumbling than buzzards, his turkeys came,

As he choked and yelled and called them by name,

“Now, Tommie! Now Gobbler! Now Scrabbler and Fowler!

On, Scratcher! On Ajax! On, Zinnia and Growler!

Go over the front porch, go over the back wall,

So fly away! Fly away! Fly away yall!”

Now trees before tornados they do lie,

When they meet with such force they do fly;

So upon the roof they did soar with vim,

With a food-laden cart and even Old Pilgrim—

And then in an instant I heard with great awe,

The scratching and screeching of each little claw.

As I turned my head and gazed into the room,

Out of the fireplace Old Pilgrim came with a boom.

He wore homespun except for each ragged shoe,

His clothes were grimy and stained from my view.

A bundle of veggies did hang down his back,

He looked just like a hawker showing off his sack.

How sad his eyes—they cried! His ears looked all bashed,

His cheeks were bloodshot, his nose all mashed.

His puckered mouth was dried up and old,

And his whiskers were white-speckled mold,

The remains of a pipe stuck out of his mouth,

The smoke circled his head and headed south,

His face was weathered, and huge was his gut

Which shook when he snorted inside of my hut.

He was gaunt and lean, a sourpuss of a man,

And I gagged as I beheld him and his tan.

A touch of evil eye and a mean, old scowl

Made me want to get up and howl,

He opened not his mouth but tended to his job,

Filled all of our bowls, and swiveled with a sob,

With a clenched fist beside his bleary snout,

And with nary a nod, up the chimney he went out;

He leaped to his cart, and to his team he did yell,

And up in the air they did fly like birds of the dell.

But I heard him grumble before he went into the night,

“Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a fine night.”

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Recently I posted about my latest book contract. This book is a product of social media. I started it for NaNoWriMo 2011 and finished it in December. This is my only NaNoWriMo manuscript. Since I type slowly, I doubt if I do another one.

This year I started participating in Twitter Pitches. (if you are new to them, Google them) There are many of them put on by various groups. (to my knowledge, all are free) The one that brought my contract was #IWSGpit. This is Insecure Writers Support Group—I am not a member, know little about them.

I signed a publishing contract with Dancing Lemur Press for my middle-readers (ages 8 to 12) historical novel, Stone Man: Trail of Tears. It will be released in October 2019 in paperback and eBook formats.

tw

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ADVENTURES IN SUBBING!

The other day, I taught a first-grade class.

Girl 1 holds up index finger: “My finger is hurt.”

Girl 2: “It’s just a hangnail.”

Girl 1: “Oh no! What can I do? I need to see the nurse!”

It took both me and girl 2 to convince her she wasn’t dying.

Kids this age tend to be drama addicts, but I think this one will become a hypochondriac.

 

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PUBLISHING CONTRACT!

I signed a publishing contract with Dancing Lemur Press for my middle-readers (ages 8 to 12) historical novel, Stone Man: Trail of Tears. It will be released in October 2019 in paperback and eBook formats.

After Twelve-year-old Tsatsi and his sister separate from their family during the Cherokee Trail of Tears, a giant Tsatsi thinks is Stone Man drags her to his lair. Tsatsi fights him, dodges renegades, and hides from soldiers as he and his sister try to reunite with their family in the Smoky Mountains.

Though Dancing Lemur Press welcomes bookstore and book signing sales, their focus is in school and library sales.

http://www.dancinglemurpressllc.com/

Read Full Post »

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