So much more…
A science fiction lover, this was my first foray into military science fiction. I was fascinated by the manner in which Navy and Marine protocols were integrated effortlessly. Clare Dargin weaves an epic story of love amidst the mayhem of war. Caitlin and Medoro Keegan, both so dedicated to duty, torn by that commitment as they struggle to honor the love between them. Trust unravels as protocol and circumstances place them on opposing sides. To keep her Medoro must allow his wife to risk her life while she must blindly trust in the strength of their love to stay alive.
I just finished reading Strings. I’ve got to admit being swept up in the anticipation of reading Beats made me itch to read Strings, to get a prelude into the world so to speak. I’ve never been a rock fan and expected that song references would fall flat. I figured.
This is what happened: I met Letty, a take-no-prisoners ball breaker with irreverent expressions that had me on the floor. Letty puts in her forty a week and still has more in the tank for her dream of becoming a rock star. Fate, serendipity whatever you tag it, brings Shades together with birthday girl Letty for one kinky orgasmic night. Or so she thinks until fate plays its next hand. Add the tag-team duo of Rax and Toombs, Jinx the minx, duplicitous Kate and Jillian to the mix. You’ve got Cherry Buzz Float meets Killer Dixon and a wild ride. Seduced by the music, high on the sex, gripped by unconventional love. Like a rock star anthem a voice in my head chants on: Beats, Beats, Beats…
Did I ever mention that I live in my head? I do not mean that I am divorced from reality or any other such fanciful notion. I have a fertile imagination that creates whole new worlds which is a really good thing, for a writer. However not so good when characters get impatient about having their stories told. Then there is pushing, hair pulling and a lot of rough and tumble stuff.
I woke at 3:04 this morning still ensnared in the world of vampire domination. It is vivid I tell you and clamoring to get out. But like my other untold stories they must wait. I did start writing the first chapter as that cements the story in case I have one of those senior moments! Bear in mind that it is unedited. Here is a small sample:
June 5. 2062. Summer, or what passed for it. Just past midday, people scurried along streets, most heading home. Whomp! Funny how I remember comparing the sound to a fire detonating from too much accelerant. The sky split open on a cloud of phospheric green light, darkness roiled from the crack spreading swiftly to cover the sky. Panic was instant, people being trampled as the flight to buses and subways began. Cursing at the government for fearmongering did not calm my heart, as one among the masses I hurried too.
Ten years since world governments dictated a half workday claiming it was to our benefit to be home long before sunset. I was sixteen when that happened; remembered thinking the parents had discovered a new way to ground me. That day when I finally got my first bikini and a bunch of us from school were supposed to meet at the community pool. Sulking, I ignored the parents through dinner except for asking nicely for the roast chicken platter to have seconds. Though I may have been upset it took a lot more than that to put me off my food. Soon as the last bite cleared my plate, 6:30pm, Dad ushered us into the family room. The emergency claxon blasted briefly as our television was remotely switched on. Typical teenage bravado on display I scoffed at the ridiculous statements up to the point I noticed how Mom quivered as she clung to Dad. It was real. The whole stinking lot of it. There would be no summer afternoons lazing at the pool or bike runs for ice cream. As with school all jobs ended at noon and visiting curfew was 2pm. Triple blackout shades got installed inside homes while mandatory modifications reduced windows, now secured by protective grates, to a minimum. Not one hue and cry about losing elaborate glass sliders.
An amazing writer told me today, “Reviews are opinions. So, to a point, are edits.”
Writing a book is an amazing endeavor, whether it turns out to be a great read or not. After giving life to these ideas, it’s time for the “book-scaping” to begin. Editors come from different schools of thought. Some concentrate solely on fixing spelling and grammar mistakes, while there are others who check for plotholes as well as flow, all the way to the finished product.
Personally my preference is the latter type: an editor who see a project through to a beautiful finish. Editing costs can sometimes be prohibitive, especially for indie authors. In addition to paying for this service, the writer then has to provide the editor with free real estate. Think of a billboard above city lights – costly advertising real estate. So as an added bonus the editor gets premium advertising for free. With their name attached to the book in perpetuity, why wouldn’t an editor ensure the final product is well presented?