After our last post, Suz and I know what you've been reading. But here's the burning question.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
THE List
After our last post, Suz and I know what you've been reading. But here's the burning question.
Monday, December 28, 2009
What Are You Reading?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Our Wish for You
Today as I sat down, I found myself wanting to share the magic with you.
And so our wish for you is that you will find childlike wonder in your holidays.
Wishing you and yours peace, joy, and happiness.
Suzette Saxton and Bethany Wiggins
Monday, December 21, 2009
Kiss Scene
This is a kissing scene from the fourth book I wrote. Enjoy!
She pushed her dripping hair from her forehead and scowled. “Leave with them, Golmarr. I don’t want you here. You will never see a horse again! You will not be the Horse Lord!” Lini cried.
“I know what I will not see, and what I will not be! I have thought that exact thing hundreds of times. This is what I want to be!” He pointed to his short hair and shirtless torso.
“You hate this place!” Lini said.
“I am staying."
“No. This is my island, and I say you must go."
“Your being stupid, Lini. You know as well as I do that if I leave, you will be alone for the rest of your life. I am not going,” he persisted.
“I can handle being alone. I like being alone! I want to be alone!” She didn’t mean to yell. “Go back to Glennis. I don't love you any more.” It was a lie, but if anything would convince him to leave, that was it.
“No. You can take your heart back, that’s fine. But you can’t make my choices for me. I left you once and that was the biggest mistake I ever made. I will not do it again."
"I hate you," she said, turning her back to him, and stormed away.
“Lini stop!” Golmarr commanded. She froze and watched his tall shadow approach. And then he stood behind her. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to face him.
“I… Will… Not… Leave… You! Not ever! I am empty without you!” he yelled, shaking her shoulders with each word. “I don’t care if you pretend I don’t exist, or if you hate me! I have already made my choice and—“
His touch was too much. Lini grabbed his short, sea-soked hair in her hands and forced his face to hers. She kissed him, pulling his lips hard against her own. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the ground.
It felt so right being in his arms. Everything about him seemed to fit against her, to match, to harmonize. He set her back on the ground, but her mouth refused to relinquish his. She grabbed him more securely behind the head and pressed her body against his, as if afraid he might try to leave.
Finally, with great force, he pushed her away enough to gasp a ragged breath of air. “Lini!” he said between breaths. “Why didn’t you do that the first night on the boat?” He stared at her for a moment before asking, “So I guess this means that I can stay?"
Friday, December 18, 2009
Networking is like...
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Writing Is Like...
... getting a slab of granite and being handed a chisel, and then uncovering David.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Happy Unofficially Official Agent Appreciation Day!
Elana Johnson's Blog
Lisa & Laura Write
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Stolen Christmas, Scones and Sensibility
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Trial by Fire - Forging Better Writers?
This book has been a goldmine (SK is brilliant!) but what I want to share with you is something author Peter Straub said 1n 1979 when he was co-interviewed with Stephen King. I think it has HUGE bearing on the state of publishing today (the bold text is my addition):
But I have another little theory - which I've just invented - that the whole fiction market, the whole publishing world, changed a couple of years ago when the price of paper went so high. Publishers started turning down books that they normally would have accepted. It got much harder to be a first novelist. It was much harder to be a first novelist in 1977 than it was in 1973, when I was a first novelist. There was a certain handwriting on the wall, and I think one by-product of this is that many younger writers read the writing on the wall and wanted to exercise their talent in some form that would be acceptable to publishers. If you're very, very good - if you're really good - there's always a place for you: you're always going to be read, and you're always going to be published.