Category Archives: Young Adult

ALONE IN THE DARK

Image result for alone with thoughts

 

 

 

I thought by now, I’d  have a few books under my belt. My dreams are still there but each day I swallow reality and it looks as if it may never turn out the way I imagined. I went through some of my short stories today. I like to do that now and then. Often they inspire me to keep writing. I have so many little pieces that I decided I will post them on my blog.

This story contains an exercise. Maybe you would like to try it.

 

“I have an assignment for you,” she said. I wanted to knock her teeth down her throat.  Every Tuesday, she sits there in one of her French suits staring at me with condescending eyes. She hates that she can’t get in my head. Sure, she smiles that fake bright red smile but I know she thinks I’m hopeless.

“Reagan, if you don’t do this assignment I will have no choice but to let your parents know you are not cooperating.”

I peered at her. I wanted to jump out of my chair and scratch my initials into her face so she would always remember that she pissed off the wrong girl. But, I knew I didn’t want to be shipped to a boarding school half way around the country. My friends wouldn’t survive without me. Lyn would get beat up the second I wasn’t around. Sam would do something stupid again like getting caught slashing the principal’s tires if I wasn’t there to keep an eye out for her. I had to agree to the assignment. My friends needed me to stick around and I had to prove to my parents that I am not influenced by my “troublesome friends,” if anything they are influenced by me.

“What do I have to do?” I mumbled.

“For one week, I want you to lie in your bed with the lights off and think.”

“Are you for real?” The sarcastic reply raced past my lips before I could stop it.

Her shoulders arched and her chest flared. “Yes, I am.” She said before forcing that annoying smile.

“You will need to set an egg timer for twenty minutes. “ She lifted one from her desk, “During the quiet time, you are to reflect on your thoughts and behaviors then record them as they come.”

She won’t give up until she has my thoughts. I should have guessed that she would have figured out a way.

“At first, you will probably feel uncomfortable, but by weeks end you should begin to feel free.”

“Free?” I laughed at the ridiculous comment.

“Yes Reagan, our minds are very complicated and keeping thoughts and feelings in will affect everything you do.”

I was surprised when she handed me a small black recorder. “I bought this for you.”

I couldn’t believe I actually felt guilty for wanting to scratch her skin off. I have never felt guilty for anything I have done. But, for the first time I think I felt remorse. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to thank her for it.

“Okay, the assignment starts tomorrow. I suggest you do it when you feel most awake. You don’t want to do it when you are sleepy because you may end up falling asleep.”

“Are you going to let my parents hear this?”

“Absolutely not. To make it a little easier, I have written topics on index cards. Each night you will pick one of the cards and record what your feelings are based on the topic.”

 

“I guess I’ll see you next week.” As I was about to slam the door she rushed up to me. “No, Reagan we will meet every day this week to discuss the topics you recorded.  I have arranged it with your parents. I will see you tomorrow at the same time.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and then I slammed the door.

Wednesday Night, I speak into the recorder.

     This is stupid. This is stupid. This is so friggen stupid but here it goes. I am alone in the dark. The only light I can see is the tiny blue light on my ipod charger. I hate the dark! I’m not afraid of it, I just hate it. I hate my voice too, so I doubt I will ever listen to these dumb recordings. Okay, the timer is set. I didn’t set no egg timer, how stupid is that. Why would I get an egg timer when every cell phone has an alarm on it, duh. Wow, twenty minutes, do I really have to talk for twenty minutes?  I wonder how many minutes have passed.

     I picked the first index card tonight and the topic is hate. I guess it could have been worse. I hate a lot of things so talking about them for twenty minutes should be fairly easy. I will start with myself. I hate that my arms don’t look good in a tank top. I hate that I can’t wear shorts. My legs are fat. I hate that my voice sounds like a transvestites. I could definitely pass for a man if someone only could hear my voice. I hate that I have things to hate about myself. I hate that right now I am talking so much. I guess I figure it will make twenty minutes go by faster.

     What else do I hate? I hate sitting in the front row of Mr. Townsends class. History sucks, if I was sitting in the back, I could at least nod off but with Hawkeyes staring at me I have to stay awake. Okay, right now I am just going to sit silent for a minute…I guess I should say what I was thinking about in that silent minute. I was listening to the sounds. I could hear my brothers rap music through his bedroom door and I thought about how much I hated rap music.

     I could hear the faucet in the bathroom dripping but I wasn’t about to get up and go turn it off. Then I heard a car drive down the street and I thought about how much I hate that my parents drive a beat up Volkswagen when they have the money to buy two brand new ones. I hate that they are stupid.

The light flicks on, my younger brother stares at me like I am a crazy person. “What are you doing?”

“None of your business shut off the light.”

I hate that my bedroom is the only bedroom without a door.  Hooray, the alarm went off. I don’t hate that I’m done.

Session with Therapist

“Okay, Reagan, I have listened to your recordings. First I’d like to say, good job with your first assignment.”

I nod. There is a smile fighting to emerge but I cover my mouth and pretend to cough. I don’t want her to think I actually care if she thought I did a good job.  She looks different today. It’s the first time I have ever seen her wear pants.  She actually looks less stuffy.

“I am sorry that you hate yourself Reagan. I’d like to help you learn to understand why you hate yourself and maybe begin to embrace who you are. Just by doing something as simple as this assignment you may find the choices you make will be different.”

     I don’t answer. I stare passed her out the bay styled window behind her desk. I can see the train bridge in the distance and I can’t help but wonder if Sam and Lyn were hanging out on it without me. I hoped Jimmy Michels wasn’t there flirting with Sam. She wouldn’t do that to me, I don’t think.

“Reagan, don’t drift off. Tonight I think you should choose Love as your subject. I’d like to know about the things you love. “She rises from the desk and hands me a leather journal with a thin leather strap that wraps around the center. “This is for you. If ever you feel uncomfortable verbalizing your feelings, please feel free to write them down.”

Another gift?  Wow this lady is either super cool or completely determined to learn every deep dark secret I have. She’d probably be disappointed to find out that I don’t have many.

     “Reagan, I also want you to know you can be creative about where you are in the dark. I know originally I said lie on your bed but please feel free to choose different locations.”

 

Thursday-Love

I took my therapists advice and decided to take a sleeping bag out in my backyard and lie underneath the stars.  Good thing my parents know I have an assignment or for sure they’d be shipping me away.

Okay here goes nothing. Love! I was told to start with talking about what I love about myself. Ugh, not much. I guess I love that I’m strong. I love that others fear me and no one would think about hurting my friends because they know I would kick the shit out of them if they did. I love the small birthmark on the underside of my wrist. It almost looks like an arrow. I think a lot of people think it’s a tattoo which I also love. I love that Jimmy Michels thinks I’m funny. I love that my little sister thinks I’m cool regardless if the rest of my family thinks I’m trouble. I love Mrs. Roman’s creative writing class. She once told me I was meant to be a writer which I think was neat. Okay recorder, I’m sitting in silence again be back soon…

     I love the sound of the crickets. I wonder if they are talking to each other in their own special language. Okay, I love some bad things which I guess might make me a bad person. I love sneaking a cigarette with Sam and Lyn on the train bridge. I love skipping school to hang out with Jimmy Michels and his friends who are much older than me. I love pool hopping in the summer and I love the taste of peach schnapps. Twenty minutes is up. Goodnight crickets.

 

Therapy

“Another great job Reagan.”

Today, I smile. I don’t know if verbalizing my thoughts is making me a little bit happier or if I’m just in a good mood. I actually washed the dishes for my mother today. Her face was priceless. I even told Sam and Lyn that I’m planning on doing one good thing a day and they laughed. They said if I did they would. Sam brought her younger brother to the park and Lyn washed her father’s car. I guess I can influence people in a good way too.

“I will not preach to you about smoking and drinking but I do hope you choose to give both of them up.” She shows me a photograph of a beautiful woman with silky brown hair. The woman is sitting under a tree and smiling up at the sky. “This is my mother. She died of lung cancer.”

I stare at the woman and for the first time feel sad for my therapist. I don’t know what she is doing to me I’m thinking differently and feeling emotions I often dismissed.

I can’t bring myself to respond. I want to say I’m sorry for her loss but I’m not there yet. Maybe I’ll write about it in that journal she gave me later.

“I want you to write down one thing every day that you love about yourself and one thing that you hate about yourself. At the end of the week, take a moment to reflect on those things and see how you feel and then write that down too.”

She lifts a black rectangular box from her laptop case. “I have another small gift for you.”

I feel giddy. I have never received so many gifts in such a small time other than on Christmas morning.

I lift the lid to the box. A shiny black pen with my name written in gold letters rests upon velvet.

“Verbalizing and Writing is very therapeutic Reagan, it’s how a person learns about themselves. I would love to read one of your creative writing pieces one day.”

“Okay, thank you.” I said thank you. It wasn’t even hard it just came out.

Friday Recording

     I’m in a closet. I know, I’m weird but I wanted to be creative and this felt right. I brought in my pillow and blanket so I would be comfortable. It’s definitely dark in here. I can feel a small vibration underneath me from the ceiling fan below. It’s a bit annoying. Tonight I picked Happiness from the index cards. Happiness. What makes me happy? The first thing that comes to mind is Jimmy Michels smile. It’s wide and beautiful and I feel happy whenever I see it. Knowing that Lyn and Sam think of me as their best friend makes me happy. I shouldn’t be happy when I get away with skipping school but I am I can’t help it. The music of the Beatles makes me happy. It reminds me of being young and dancing around the living room with my parents to the song The Octopus’s garden. It was long ago when my parents still actually loved me. I guess receiving the gifts from my therapist made me happy. I am getting used to recording and I have written a few things in my new journal with my new pen. The alarm is going off. Twenty minutes is flying by. One more thing that makes me happy is losing weight. I lost ten pounds once and I felt great. I need to try that again. Bye recorder.

 

Therapy Session

“Reagan, it sure looks like you are getting the hang of this.” Today my therapist actually has on jeans. They are a pair I might even attempt to wear if I was thirty pounds thinner. They are faded and have small rips in the knee. Each day I think she seems a little cooler.

“So, how did it feel to talk about happiness?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“You know Reagan, your parents still love you very much. If they didn’t they wouldn’t have you here. I know it’s hard for you to comprehend but one day you will understand that everything they are doing is because they love you.”

I have heard that before but I don’t see it. My mom barely speaks to me. I can feel the disappointment in my father every time he is near me. I think he thought by age fifteen I’d be a musical prodigy playing the piano in recitals all around the world. I liked playing the piano but I never loved it the way he wanted me to.

I can’t help but wonder if I get another present today. I guess I’m expecting one, but have no idea what it will be.

The therapist sits in her leather chair and swivels back and forth while jotting down something on her notepad. “Okay, Reagan, I want you to talk about disappointment tonight. We will talk about it tomorrow.”

I stand there waiting for a gift and quickly realize today I won’t be getting one. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Saturday Recording

I am back to lying on my bed in the dark.  I didn’t feel like being creative today. I guess I was disappointed that I didn’t get a gift. I didn’t expect one, okay maybe I did. I was hoping for one. I’m sorry; I know you will be listening to this but if I am trying to be honest, I should let you know I was disappointed that I didn’t get a gift from you today. I am disappointed often. I am disappointed every time I step on the scale and see I’ve gained weight. I am disappointed every time I hear Jimmy Michels tell Sam that she is hot. I want him to think of me as hot not just the fat funny friend. I am disappointed when I walk into Mrs. Roman’s writing class and see a substitute. I am disappointed in myself for not being a better daughter but I don’t know how to become one. I can’t stop hanging around with my friends, I love them. I guess I could stop cutting classes and stealing liquor from my parents’ cabinet but then I would disappoint my friends and doing so would disappoint me. Twenty minutes feels like eternity tonight. I don’t’ feel like talking. I am going to be silent longer tonight. I’ll let you know what comes to mind…

     I didn’t pay attention to any sounds. I guess being disappointed puts me in a bad mood. I never realized that before. Hmm, I suppose that’s what the therapist meant when she said I would feel free. That bullshit she said about verbalizing and talking might be working. I think I’m beginning to understand myself a little more. I don’t know how or why.

Therapy Session

     “Reagan, I want to explain a few things to you today if you don’t mind.”

     I shrug my shoulders.

“Most people never pay attention to what’s inside their heads. If you are happy, there is a reason for it and if you want to remain happy you must know what makes you happy and seek it out.” She holds up a cd. “I know you were disappointed yesterday that I didn’t get you a gift. But, today I did. It is a Beatles cd and the song The Octopus’s Garden is on it. Anytime you find yourself going into that funk of sadness or disappointment I want you to promise you will play this song so you can get back to your happy place.”

Immediately my feeling shifts. I know trying to hide my happiness would be pointless. “Thank you,” I say again. It’s becoming easier to say thank you.

“You’re welcome Reagan. I am happy to give it to you. But, Reagan, I want you to take a moment later on and ask yourself why it took me buying you gifts before you would give me a chance.”

The recordings were complete and my therapist Miss Raven assured my parents that my behavior was nothing more than teenager antics and I was normal. She encouraged them to practice the “Alone in the Dark” exercise so they would gain a better understanding of love, hate, happiness, sadness, disappointment and a whole laundry list of other emotions.

I still record my thoughts once a week and write in my journal and whenever I need a spirit booster I visit the Octopus’s garden and dance.

I stood at the front of Mrs. Roman’s class and watched the mouths drop when I shut off the recorder. There were looks of horror, compassion, sorrow and even ridicule. I cleared my throat. Mrs. Roman nodded in encouragement and then I began…

 

Alone in the dark

As I sat alone in the dark I heard my thoughts

Happiness sang, Disappointment cried, Love hugged and Hate punched

As I sat alone in the dark, I came to understand who I was and who I no longer wanted to be

I’m a teenager doing the things we do. It doesn’t make me bad, troubled or crazy

As I sat alone in the dark I paid attention to sounds I have often ignored

The chitter chatter of crickets, the beat of a musicians song, engines from cars roared

As I sat alone in the dark things jumbled within my mind began to make sense

I can’t love others without loving myself.  I can’t ask not to be judged when I’m filled with pretense

As I sat alone in the dark something cool happened to me

I don’t know exactly when or even how, but, all of the truth I faced set me free

 

I walked back to my seat feeling proud of my poem and myself. I could tell by Mrs. Roman’s eyes that she thought I did a great job. There were some awkward stares from some of the kids but Lyn and Sam both gave me thumbs up which made me feel good.

“Class, for the first time in a long time, I have been inspired by one of my students,” Mrs. Roman said after I was seated. In her hand was a stack of index cards. She walked up each row and set one card on every student’s desk. “Reagan was very brave in sharing her recordings with us.” She looked directly at me. “She didn’t have to share something so intimate and I told her that, but, she said the poem wouldn’t be as good without them.”

I picked up the index card she placed on my desk. The word Anticipation was written on the card in bold black letters.

“I have decided to make the Alone in the Dark exercise a part of this writing class. Once a week you will be given an index card with a word. I want you to sit alone in the dark for twenty minutes, just as Reagan did and think about the word and what it means to you. You will then be required to write a short story based on the word and the emotions it evoked.”

I felt flushed.  Dozens of heads spun around. I was surprised to see most of the faces had smiles. I couldn’t be sure but I think the class actually thought it was going to be cool. I thought about my word Anticipation, I wondered what would come to mind when I shut off the lights. Then I thought about the gift I bought Miss Raven, a vintage French ormalu picture frame for the photograph of her mother.  I knew for sure I would think about her reaction when I shut off the light.

I know one thing; I don’t hate the dark anymore.

 

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Filed under BLOG, dreaming, emotions, Inspirational, short stories, story telling, Uncategorized, writers, writing, Writing, Young Adult

Pitch Wars, Here I Come

motivation

I have a completed mg manuscript that generated many requests but in the end no cigar!

I have a completed YA manuscript that generated many requests but in the end no cigar!

I BELIEVE in both of these manuscripts. I LOVE both of these manuscripts. I poured blood, sweat and tears into these manuscripts.

I want to understand what’s wrong with them. I want to understand how to make them better.

So, I have decided that I’m going to participate in Pitch Wars again this year. I’m still deciding which one of my babies (manuscript) to enter.

Wish me luck. If you are participating in Pitch Wars and want to swap pages or bounce ideas off of each other, leave a comment or find me on the Pitch Wars forums. I posted the first 250 words of both for review.

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Filed under BLOG, Fiction, middle grade fiction, pitch wars, Uncategorized, writers, writing, Writing, Young Adult

If My Book Were A Song

You hear a song for the first time and think, I don’t like this song. You hear it a second time and think, I still don’t like it but I don’t hate it as much as I did the first time I heard it. It plays again and you say to yourself, “Hmm, I’m actually starting to like this song.” By the tenth or so time, you are starting to turn it up. Maybe, you’re even singing the catchy verse that repeats throughout, but still you are not listening to it. Then one day, you stop listening to the music and begin listening to the lyrics and realize the story behind this song is awesome.
Songs have an advantage that books do not. Wouldn’t it be nice, if author’s books got played over and over again until people had no choice but to sit up and listen to the story being told? Yeah, that’s not going to happen which is why it is so important authors engage the reader from the get go. I am currently writing a book that I truly am in love with. I really feel like I have thought outside of the box and created a world that is mine alone. But, if I don’t nail the beginning, I may never get anyone to explore the world that lies deep within the pages. There is no tune that will prelude my words, no beat that will beckon someone’s attention and no melody that will drive the emotion. There are only words, words written by an author wanting to tell a story that someone will remember as good as they remember a favorite song.

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Filed under constructing, novel, story writing, writer's life, writers, writing, Writing, Young Adult

Books at the Beach

When I was about eleven years old I went to Ocean City New Jersey with my family. We set our spots up and unpacked all of the beach essentials. As I was about to lay on my blanket and get some sun I noticed my aunt was reading. I recall looking around and becoming fascinated by so many people holding books. I wanted to be one of them. I begged my mother to take me to the boardwalk that night so I could select a book of my own. I wanted to read on the beach too.

My first beach read was Tigers Eye by Judy Blume. I, along with my aunt and the other beach readers stretched out a blanket, plopped down and read on the beach. I was part of a club and I couldn’t help but feel special.

Many years later, I am still part of the beach reading club. This past week as I sat with legs stretched along the sand reading my selection (Go Ask Alice), inspiration hit. There were so many people holding traditional books and kindles in front of their noses that I just had to know, what they were reading.

I started off by nonchalantly strolling past them sneaking a peak at the titles. When I couldn’t make out the titles, I had to muster up the courage to ask them what they were reading. No one seemed to think I was crazy which made me happy. Everyone I asked, was happy to tell me what they were reading.

Below is a list of the books I found being read on the beach.

  1. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn – This book was the most popular book being read on the beach. At least three of the people I approached were reading the suspense novel. One lady advised me that she loved that the story fluctuated point of views, going from husband to wife. Prior to the beach, I was hearing a lot of buzz about this book. I think it might be one of my next reads.
  2. Velocity: Combining Lean, Six Sigma and The Theory of Constraints to Achieve Breakthrough Performance—A Business Novel
  3. Bared To You by Sylvia Day—Erotic Romance. Book reviews say that this book has an emotional feel similar to Fifty Shades of Grey.
  4. Deadlocked by Charlaine Harris (Sookie Stackhouse/True Blood Book 12) If you still are yearning for vampires this series of books might be a good beach read for you.
  5. Go Ask Alice-Anonymous–This book is a diary of a young fifteen year old girl who experiences drugs for the first time when giving a soda laced with LSD. She gets caught up in the drug scene and writes about her struggles in daily journal entries.
  6. Chain Reaction (Perfect Chemistry) by Simone Elkeles– Love, family secrets, gangs, this book has it all.

So, there we have it. Those are the books I spotted being read while vacationing. I know there are a few listed that I have already added to my TBR list. Did you vacation this year? What book did you bring along? Are any of these on your TBR list?

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Filed under books, Fiction, life, novel, random, reading, writers, writing, Writing, Young Adult

From Gold to Junk

 

My father and mother loved garage sales. Each Saturday morning they would wake up very early, outline the sales in the newspaper and drive around looking for treasures. Their idea of treasures differed. My mother loved to find costume jewelry, purses with tags still on them, kitchen supplies and sealed makeup. My father’s idea of a treasure was a first print edition, a series of books or a signed copy. He hunted for books so he could sell them on ebay. Once, he made a four hundred dollar profit and was ecstatic.

Their love of garage sales rubbed off on me. I liked finding high ticket items for pennies. If my father were alive he would be disappointed in me today. He would ask me “Why didn’t you look inside?” The same question I have been asking myself for the last week.

A year ago, I wondered into the giant flea market at our church bazaar. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I, like my mother would go directly to the jewelry, hoping to find a unique piece. I skimmed over the bangles, earrings and plastic necklaces but found nothing. I searched the purses, glanced over home decorations but wasn’t impressed.

I ended my visit to the flea market by rummaging through a mound of books. I wasn’t looking to find a first print or a signed copy. I only wanted something to read. After tucking a few under my arm an author’s name jumped out at me. The Tenth Circle by Jodi Piccoult rested atop the literary mountain. I snatched up the book made my purchase and went on my merry way. When I arrived home, I placed the book on the lower shelf of my bookcase and thought, I will read it soon. I wasn’t expecting to receive the Kindle as a gift which meant for a while the hard covered books nestled on my shelf would take a back seat.

It’s a year later, my Kindle is broke, we got a new puppy (Edgar Allen Pug) and I feel like throwing up.

Edgar has a thing for wood, feet, blankets and books. Last week he pulled The Tenth Circle from the bottom shelf and ripped the cover off. Ugh, I thought looking at the strips of book cover lying on the floor besides my shelf. The next day I found the book lying on the floor again. This time the edges were chewed. Puppies, I thought. I might as well read it, I thought again. I curled up on the couch opened the book and wanted to cry. For a year, I had a mint condition signed book by Jodi Piccoult and I had no idea. What’s worse is I am a writer, I should have thought to look.

Do you think if I wrote to Jodi and said my dog ate your book she’d give me a new one? 🙂

Surely, my father was looking down from somewhere shaking his head saying “Didn’t I teach you anything? The first thing you do when you get a book at a yard sale or flea market is check to see if it is signed.”

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Filed under books, editing, emotions, Giveaway, random, Uncategorized, writer's life, writers, Writing, Young Adult

Interview with author Rebecca Hamilton

 

 

Rebecca Hamilton is another author I met thanks to Twitter. I’m looking forward to today’s interview with her. Rebecca’s debut novel The Forever Girl (Book 1 of the Forever Girl Series) was recently released and I’m excited to say I won a free copy for my Kindle. Please join me in welcoming Rebecca and don’t forget to leave a comment for her. 

 

Hi Rebecca how are you?

I’m a bunch of things right now. I had a lot of mixed emotions over releasing my novel and right now I’m still a bit excited and a lot nervous. At the same time, it feels weird, like it hasn’t really happened yet. I’m also feeling quite honored to be interviewed on your blog. I can’t thank you enough for having me. Hope things have been well on your end.

Thank you for stopping by Writing Like Crazy

Okay Rebecca Let’s jump right into the interview.

First, I’d like to know what made you decide to become a writer. Did you have an aha moment or was it something you did ever since you can remember?

Honestly? Originally, it was a bucket list item. You know, something I wanted to do before I died. (I’m too much of a fraidy-cat to put skydiving on my list, but I guess it turns out this whole writing thing comes close.) Anyway, I was never able to really come up with an idea or finish anything. Then, about four years ago, I had an idea. Finally. And as I wrote that book, it turned into 3 ideas. And as I’ve revised the book, it’s turned into 7 ideas. And along the way, I came up with some other stories as well. So I guess once I started, it just sort of … took over.

Book 1 of The Forever Girl is about a girl named Sophia who is dealing with family skeletons. Can you tell us a little more about this book?

The novel is a bit of the paranormal and also a bit of the mundane. And by mundane, I hope I don’t mean boring. What I mean is, I explore a lot of issues in the novel. Normal day-to-day issues, like dealing with tough family members, being judged or not feeling at home in your home-town. Sophia’s cursed with a buzzing in her head and when she tries to get rid of it with a Wiccan spell, the buzzing turns to whispering voices. As she looks into that, she discovers a family secret about an ancestor hanged during the Salem witch trials. Solving the mystery might cure the noise, but it turns out that in order to find her answers she will have to fall into another life she never expected. There’s a lot of themes there, however, with the biggest one being acceptance—acceptance of yourself, acceptance of others, and acceptance of the way things are.

*Neat, I like the idea of the buzzing becoming whispers. It’s definitely nothing I have heard of before.

Besides Sophia, what other characters will we find in The Forever Girl?

The most memorable characters to my readers have been: Sophia’s mom, a woman with bipolar who maybe means well but is often harsh and out of touch with reality, and Charles, who brings up a lot of issues of trust … can he trust her, can she trust him, can either of them trust themselves or their future together? A lot of readers seem to either love or hate Sophia’s friend (Lauren)’s quirky attitude, which leads them to favor Sophia’s other friend (Ivory) who’s a bit jaded and tells it like it is. 

What inspired you to write this book?

Oh man. Now you’re making me think. It all started four years ago… Umm… 🙂 Okay, I’m going to be honest but it’s not gonna be pretty. I read a series of novels (I won’t say which ones, because that would be mean) and thought, “If this can get published, then so can I!” Ha! How little I knew. (Like the fact that the author was mega famous BEFORE any of her books were published) Anyway, I do feel like a butt for having thought that way. The story itself … IDK, it just came to me. What a freaking cliché, huh?

When did you know that this book would be part of a series?

About half way through the first book. One of the characters sort of … took over unexpectedly, which ended up changing the entire second half of how I thought the story would unfold. That part of the story will make it to book 4 though, I believe.

Can you tell us about your road to publication? Was it a long journey?

Oh, I could bore you with this story. Really I could. To keep it short, I started writing four years ago and I’m just now putting my first novel out there.

Do you have an agent?

I came close many times, even had some agent approach me after seeing my work online, but nothing ever came of it. I seemed to have better luck with editors believing in my work.

Did you spend a lot of time querying for this book? May I ask how many rejections you got?

I queried for about a year. Every agent that covers my genre rejected me. I lost count. Over a hundred, I think. Some were very nice and asked to see future works. One of them plans on buying a copy of my novel. Another said my work reminded her of another author she represented who had won awards, but that publishers wouldn’t pick up the novel so she had to pass on mine. It’s a tough market. I met some really cool agent-people along the way, though.

Rebecca do I understand you are a co-owner of a publishing company? I think that is super cool, can you tell us a little more about this?

 My partner and I were both looking into self publishing around the same time we were considering starting a small literary magazine. We decided to combine our idea to self publish with our idea of publishing others into one effort–at least for now. That’s how Immortal Ink Publishing was born. We used my first novel as a test pilot (and have learned a lot) and have since acquired a few more titles to be released in 2012. We want to stay small, and we want to put our all into the authors we do publish. That said, we also want to support other indie authors–whether they be self published or published through other small publishing houses–by reading their works and promoting them if we find the read enjoyable.

Can authors come to you to have their work published?

 Yes. We’ll be opening for submissions in May. We may open for a paid short story anthology sooner than that, too, where we will be paying those who submit (and are selected) $50 per story plus 5% of the profits each.

What was the reaction from your family when they found out Mommy’s book was going to be on shelves?

I don’t think they get it LOL. They knew immediately I’d spend any money I made on them, though.

I adore the cover for your book. What did you think when you first saw it?

When I saw the cover model, I about fell over at the likeness to my MC. That is EXACTLY how I envision my MC. (Except I know the model has blue eyes and Sophia does not. But otherwise…)

Her Sweetest Downfall and Come, the Dark are the next two books. What can we expect from these?

Her Sweetest Downfall is one of the novellas. It’s related to the series, but not explicitly part of the series. I guess what’s neat about all the books under the Forever Girl brand is that they all can stand alone. The Novellas (called “Journals”) will be put out between releases of The Forever Girl Series Books, as long as I have a story to tell. They are more loosely related to the main story line. Then, within the series itself, there is Sophia’s Trilogy (which consists of books 1, 4, and 7 in the series). Come, the Dark is the second book in the series itself, and this story is a bit more experimental in style. I think it might be my favorite in the series, to tell the truth. There will be romance, paranormal elements, more on the Salem witch trials, and a bit more of a historical flavor (as opposed to the contemporary style of The Forever Girl).

I love the titles of your books. How did you come up with them?

I honestly have no idea. The Forever Girl was actually named for me by my friend Gerry Johnston, an amazing up-and-coming horror novelist. 

How can readers find you? Blog? Twitter? Facebook page?

Blog: http://www.beccahamiltonbooks.com/

Twitter: @InkMuse

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RebeccaHamiltonFanPage

 

How can they purchase your book? Can you tell us where it is available?

 Currently it’s available in several Amazon stores, including the US and UK. It’s also available on Smashwords and Barnes&Noble. It’s coming to iBookstore soon as well, and a print version will be available in the near future.

Some Links:

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Forever-Girl-ebook/dp/B00729GQ0A/ref=sr_1_11?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1327715594&sr=1-11

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Forever-Girl-ebook/dp/B00729GQ0A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1327715654&sr=8-1

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-forever-girl-rebecca-hamilton/1038037801?ean=2940014060196&itm=2&usri=the+forever+girl

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/127100

I will say I mostly only use Smashwords to provide a discounted copy (via coupon, for giveaway participants). The regular listing price is the same as the other sites and I don’t the formatting is as nice, so I don’t recommend buying through them unless you’ve got the coupon 🙂

Okay, I love to end interviews with some fire questions I hope you don’t mind

*Do you have a thinking spot?

The bath. Not on purpose. It’s just where all my good ideas come to me. Unfortunately, then I have wet hands and can’t write those ideas down .

*What is your writing ritual?

I always write at night.

*Do you keep Journals?

Not really, but I recently started keeping a day planner! Sometimes I write poetry when I’m hurt or angry.

*What is your favorite word?

Tacos. Especially Moes.

*What are you reading right now?

The Grimoire: Lichgates by SM Boyce. (PEOPLE NEED TO CHECK THIS OUT!)

*Do you have a favorite author?

Nancy Pickard. I adore her stories. She’s brilliant. I can’t really put it into words. You’ll have to read her work to see what I mean. AND she’s just a really nice person. We’ve had a few email chats. She has been one of the few authors who inspires me to bend the rules a little for the sake of suspense.

Rebecca this was an awesome interview. I can’t wait to download The Forever Girl onto my Kindle. I wish you success, peace, and happiness. Thanks for stopping by

Thanks for having me!!

Is there a thought you would like to leave us with?

A quote, from George S. Patton: “If everyone is thinking alikethen somebody isn’t thinking.”

You are very interesting Rebecca, I hope nothing but success for you.

Thank you so much, Maribeth 🙂 My main goal is to bring books to readers that they will enjoy, and I’m finding there’s many ways to pull that off.

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Filed under Author Interview, books, Fiction, writer's life, writers, Writing, Young Adult

MY GUEST BLOG POST FOR AGENT BREE OGDEN

Do you think a writer needs to go on a diet? A writing diet that is. Check out my guest post over at This Literary Life. Bree Ogden (a super agent) was cool enough to allow me to write a blog for her site. It is the first time I have written for another blog as a guest and I’m super excited.

Make sure you leave a comment so I know you stopped by.

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Filed under audience, Author Interview, books, character, character building, constructing, creating, critique, critique groups, editing, Fiction, Inspirational, life, rejections, stories, story telling, story writing, Style, Voice, writer's life, writers, writing, Writing, Young Adult