Monday 26 November 2012

Book Cover Reveal Monday


Hanging From the Family Tree: Tobias' Story (#2) by Alison Davis



Synopsis

Hanging from the Family Tree: Tobias’ Story, is a Young Adult fiction novel, based in a fictional English coastal town.

Hidden letters from 1812, the British Regency, tell the story of Alexander Ventus, member of a very rich and influential local family. Besotted with a local women, Elizabeth, who is deemed beneath him, he is forced into a marriage with another woman. Distraught she throws herself from a cliff. Followed years later by Alexander, burdened by his guilt.

Alexander Ventus is Tobias’ great, great, grandfather, and there is an alarming likeness to their lives.  Tobias’ Story tells of his struggle to find his place in his family and to discover what it truly means to be a Ventus.




Excerpt

I sat staring at the dark polished wood of the desk in front of me, the virgin white paper with small black printed letters, which both promised me hope and sealed my fate, now crumpled and torn. I reached out to smooth it flat.

Dear Mr Ventus,
We are writing to inform you that your application has been accepted...


That was all that was left on the torn scrap my father had ripped from my hand. His thundering voice echoed over and over through my head. He was angry a lot of the time, indignant, pompous, and bitter. Charles Henry Ventus the Second. Six foot of broad shouldered, smouldering resentment. His hair was greying and thinning. He hardly resembled the strapping, muscular young man from all the portraits, and photographs- he even smiled in those. A facial expression that had scarce graced his face in around thirty years, or these halls in thirteen. Not since when aged eight, my father had told me off for running around the halls, and laughing too loudly outside his study. He had roared at me so loudly and scared me so much that I had cried myself to sleep for two weeks, and tiptoed everywhere for at least two months.
Business was everything to him, the paperwork on my desk was testament to that. He had given me the written specifications for part of a holiday complex he wanted to open. He wanted to draw young tourists in, for surf, for group holidays. The surfing tourist industry near here was fairly big, but there was nowhere for nights out, no trendy night scene. Not that one would do well here, the town was traditional, community based. If father ever went into town he would know that. Instead he just sat up here in his house, his castle, behind a desk, on a phone or out in a plane, a helicopter, meetings after meetings. His schedule was his bible.


About the Author:

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Alison has been writing from an early age, stories, poems, novels, prose. After a 3 year sabbatical from writing she returned to her passion to write Whispers on the Wind: Ari's story.
Her first novel, Whispers on the Wind: Ari's Story, was published in August 2012 on Lulu.com. Hanging from the Family Tree: Tobias' Story, a companion/sequel to Whispers on the Wind, is to be published in November 2012

Spotlight: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/JustASouthernBelle
Goodreads Q&A:http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/76366-ask-alison-davis
Goodreads Book: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15831053-whispers-on-the-wind
Goodreads Author:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6470944.Alison_Davis


Thursday 15 November 2012

The Stephanies. Also, a NaNoWriMo excerpt.

I got mail last week! 

Three parcels in one day, in fact, on what happened to be my flatmate's birthday. And she got no parcels. 

Here's one of my parcels:



This little gem is an example of 'Kickstarter swag', or, if you want to be more formal, 'goods obtained from Kickstarter'. For the uninitiated, Kickstarter is a funding platform for creative projects. People put up projects they intend to complete, and people can choose to contribute towards their funding in return for rewards. I was browsing to see what projects people had put up, and came across The Stephanies, a book which a father and daughter had created together. 

I don't know Kevin and Lexi at all. Heck, I don't even live on the same continent as they do. But I felt compelled to be part of this project. Why? Well, to start with, because I think writing is awesome, and it's awesome that a six year old has made a book. I remember when I was that age and we would write stories in our writing boos at school and then 'publish' them on a sheet of coloured paper. The paper which was folded in half so you could make a cover as well. One time I wrote a lengthy (it seemed then) version of Cinderella which was far too big for such simple publication. Instead, I got to staple multiple pages of larger pieces of paper together to publish my story. It took a really long time. My teacher was pretty impressed and I got to go and show the Principal who was also pretty impressed and gave me a 'highy commended by the Principal' stamp in reward. 

So I wondered ... if I thought it was pretty cool to have my Principal look at my book and give me a stamp, how cool would another young writer think it was to have a real, live, published book which strangers on the other side of the world are reading?

Speaking of, here's a picture of me reading on the other side of the world.


I like how my feet look bigger than my head. 

I was not disappointed with this book at all. It's a cute, engaging story with a great twist at the end. Which I'm not going to spoil for you because that would be evil. The pictures, drawn by Lexi, are charming. The story is about two girls who are both named - that's right - Stephanie. And are they pleased about it? They certainly are not! 

Do you know how confusing that's got to be? I don't often meet people with the same name as me unless they are really old people, or babies. So I don't usually run into the same problems as the Stephanies do, such as being in the same class and not knowing who the teacher is talking to. 

Actually, I lie. In fifth form geography I sat next to a Liz. Our teacher would frequently call on 'Elizabeth'. We'd look at each other - she was known as Liz, though her real name was Elizabeth, and I often get people mistaking 'Isabel' for 'Elizabeth'. So this was confusing, and we didn't know who the teacher was talking to. But we never got as grumpy as the Stephanies do! 

If you want to know more, check out Amazon.  

In other news, NaNoWriMo is progressing well! I'm not writing as fast as I have in previous years, just trying to get the 1667 words each day. I've continued to be very good at procrastinating and made this cover:


Made from a photo by Lauren Manning. I'd pick this book up in the store. 

And to prove that I have actually done some writing, here's a short excerpt. As always with NaNo it is in its unedited, non-proofread glory:

Aiofe remembered to close the front door more quietly than she had opened it when she’d come in. ‘Hold my hand,’ she instructed Katie, feeling grown up as she always did. ‘At least until we’re across the road.’
Katie did, looking down at Mr Twinkles beside her ‘And you hold onto my hand, Mr Twinkles.’
‘We’re going explor-ring!’, Aiofe sang, as they walked down the street. ‘And we’re gonna find some land, and we’re gonna make a town, and Dad is gonna make dinner, and we are gonna meet our guest.’
‘We’re gonna meet Stella’, Katie joined in.
‘Have you met her already?’
‘Uh-huh. She’s nice. And she has an earring in her nose.’
‘That means it’s a nose ring.’
‘Well it looks like an earring to me.’
‘Look both ways before we cross the street’, Aiofe instructed, as she always did. And as always, there was no traffic to be seen. ‘Okay, go.’ The girls ambled over the road, where they were met by a steep and muddy path.
‘It’s dirty’, Katie grumbled. Aiofe rolled her eyes. She didn’t understand her sister’s problem with dirt - it washed off, and who cared if you got dirty as long as you were having fun.
‘You’ll come clean later when you have a bath. And Dad will wash your clothes.’
Katie hugged her bear to her chest. ‘I don’t want Mr Twinkles to get dirty though’.
That was a problem. He was a bit harder to wash than clothes were. Aiofe thought of her own teddy bear, Lord Carrigan Beary. He had been in the washing machine many times, her mother insisting that it was like a playground ride for him. He may be having a great time, but he seemed to have less fur each time he came out of the machine.
‘I have an idea’, Aiofe told her sister. ‘Here, give me Mr Twinkles’.
‘Be careful’, Katie said suspiciously, holding onto the bear a few seconds longer than necessary as she handed him over. Aiofe took great care as she unzipped her jacked, held the bear to her chest, and zipped her jacket back up again so that only his head could be seen sticking out.
‘How about I carry him like this?’
‘Okay’, Katie agreed slowly. ‘Don’t fall over. He might get muddy if you do.’
‘I won’t fall over!’ Aiofe declared. ‘I am the great explorer, the brave knight, Madame Bellamy Brown. I come. I conquer. I do great things. But I certainly do not fall over.’
Katie giggled. ‘Okay, Madame Belly Brown.’
‘Bellamy Brown.’
‘I know.’
Aiofe smiled. ‘Now, onward! We must overcome this hill, come over to the top of it, so we can see what lies within this new district.’ Katie didn’t move. ‘Onward means you can start walking now.’
‘Oh! I get it.’ And the sisters began a climb up the hill. Aiofe wondered who panted more coming up this hill, Katie now or Ben when they ad the other day, but she realised that was a nasty thought and pushed it aside. Not everybody could be athletic, and Katie was only four. Besides, you couldn't really think anything bad about Ben - he was too nice all the time.
They staggered up to the lookout, and sat down on the bench. ‘Why, someone has been here before us!’ Aiofe exclaimed. ‘And put a bench here. And some signs. Well, that’s very helpful. Now, where should we make camp for the night?’
Katie pointed. ‘That house, with the blue roof.’
Aiofe looked at the house Katie pointed at. If she squinted she could see her father through the kitchen window. ‘An excellent choice.’


Sunday 4 November 2012

NaNoWriMo, Pyjama Pants, and Adelaide

Hello faithful readers, and greetings from NaNoWriMo land, where I have just made my word count for day three with eight minutes to spare. This was mainly because I whittled away my Saturday thusly:

- Sleeping.
- Reading.
- Craft shopping.
- Supermarket shopping.
- Making pyjama pants (I just bought a sewing machine, and it is the best thing ever, I love it.)
- Making dinner. 
- Wondering when my bag of crap from 1-day will arrive.
- Eating a chocolate bar. 
- Wondering whether I am more productive on weekends when I have made a list during the week of things that I need to do during the weekend.
- Wondering how far into next week I will get before regretting not being productive this weekend.
- Not caring about the above two points, on account of the eight point. 


NB. In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, I have decided not to proofread or edit my blog post. This may also be the spirit of laziness, but just keep that to yourself. 


In other news (when I wasn't either a) writing or b) distracted by my new shiny sewing machine and making pyjama pants) I tried playing around with making a cover image for this November's novel. I was pretty unsuccessful as I couldn't find any royalty free images that you don't need to pay for of the image I had in mind (a girl holding a globe), but I've come up with this, which I can see on the back of a book with a blurb underneath. (Tidied up and done by an actual graphics person, obviously.)


My story, in brief, is called The Girl Who Saved The World. It's about a nine year old who aspires to, uh, save the world. The problem? She's nine. Also, it's set in the real world, which is a much harsher landscape for would be superheroes than science fiction or fantasy are. And just to really kick the poor girl when she's down she has a sadistic teacher and horrible classmates who laugh at her and mock her for wanting to do good in the world. I don't think she'll let it deter her for too long though, and I'm sure she will achieve her goal by the time November comes to an end. 

Also, new pyjama pants:



With my laptop where I am working on THIS VERY BLOG POST in the background. How meta. 

NaNo has had an interesting start this year. Normally I go full pace ahead in the first few days, but this year I've only gone a couple of hundred words over the daily 1667 word count each day. Even today, which was Saturday - I didn't have to go to work. I didn't have to make pyjama pants. I did have to go to the supermarket, but that shouldn't take all day. So why so slow?

I was getting annoyed with myself, particularly when I'd sit down to write after having been on the bus reading. Reading was probably my first mistake - I started freaking out and asking myself 'why doesn't my book have fully developed characters? Exciting twists and turns? A complex plot? Why haven't my characters done anything yet besides go to school?'

Then my rational side returned and shoved my worrying side out of the way. 'Because it's NaNoWriMo. You know, that thing where you basically write a zero draft, not a completed manuscript. Where the plot always tends to work itself out around the middle of November. You've only got a few thousand words so far, and you had to start it at school - that's where the conflict sparks from.'

Clearly, I'd forgotten what I get out of NaNoWriMo. I get to hang out with other crazy people and write. I get to try out something I'm not used to - in this case, writing children's litereature. I get a completed draft, and it doesn't have to be perfect. Scratch that, it's definitely not going to be perfect. John Boyne wrote The Boy in Striped Pyjamas in something like three days, and I bet even that needed a little bit of editing. 

I continued to think about it, and realised that for whatever reason I'd been talking to quite a few non-writing people about my writing lately. And everyone always wonders when you're going to be published. That's a lot of expectation to heap on when you're doing NaNoWriMo. Because it's not like you can just finish a book and then get it published - there are so many hoops to jump through before publication is even a remote possibility. And not everything is written with publication in mind. But tell someone that you're writing a novel and they immediately think you're looking at publication.

Don't get me wrong, I would love to have something published. But some novels are just written for fun. Some are written while you find your voice and learn your craft. All writing is great practice. Is it a waste of time to write a novel with no intent of publication? Of course not. Would you say it's a waste of time to go and play a round of golf if you're not playing in the PGA, or to paint a picture if you are just going to hang it up in your living room rather than in a prestigious art gallery? I hope not, and if you disagree then I fear you have some harsh realities about life coming your way! 

So I have cast off all shackles of expectation and embraced the crazy spirit that is NaNo once more. I will write without editing, without fear, with gaping plot holes, as fast as I can. Come November I will have a 50,000 word manuscript. It may end up being something that is worth developing more, or it may be something I can use as a doorstop. Whatever the case, I'm sure I will have learnt more and become a better writer. 

And now for something entirely different! Well, not entirely, it is still about writing. But it is not about NaNoWriMo.

I was cruising the internet the other day, as I often do, and stopped upon the website of my most favourite author ever Mr Scott Westerfeld. He had written that he (and the equally wonderful Justine Larbalestier) would be at the Adelaide Writer's Week in 2013. 

'Adelaide, ay?' I wondered. 'That's not too far away from me.'

The next day the program for the Adelaide Festival was announced online so I checked it out.   And lo and behold, Writer's Week also features my MA supervisor. Which is just crazy when you consider that Westerfeld was the subject of two thirds of my MA thesis. If you google their names the Adelaide Festival is the first search result, and my thesis is the second. I hope they meet. 

I've spent the past few days daydreaming about attending the week myself, trying to convince myself that it is probably not the smartest, most fiscal idea. Then I tell myself to stop being boring, suck it up and do a bit of overtime, penny pinch for a bit, and just go. Somebody should just tell me what to do. Validate my choice, either way. Anyway, I checked out airfares and they are a ridiculous $800 return, but the wisdom that is the internet (the wisdom of the crowd, in Westerfeld speak) tells me that specials for the next year tend to come up in December, so here's hoping ... it may actually be possible to go. 

Until next time, readers, here is a nanoism from the journey so far. For the uninitiated nanoisms are sentences that you write in a NaNo novel that are funny, awkward, and/or make no sense.

‘That was most enlightening’, Mrs Salter continued, waving her hand around in the air. (Which Aiofe’s older cousins had reliably informed her was what people did ‘when they just don’t care’). ‘Very fine aspirations indeed, though perhaps somewhat difficult to bring to fruition. Nevertheless, I’m sure you’ve thought it through very thoroughly, haven’t you?’