Limited Time - PREQUEL SHORT STORY ON THE BLOG!

Sometimes, people need a little more valid convincing than just "VOTE FOR BLAH with BIG LETTERZZZZZ!" I get that. I respect it. And so, out of appreciation for those people who want to know WHY they ought to bother voting for William Maddox in this Smackdown thing I just keep yaaaammering oooon about, how about if I offer you something better than a plea? How 'bout some decide-for-yourself evidence? Some entertainment?

A very, VERY exclusive prequel told from the point-of-view of William was released just as my last book was coming out, and only to those who bought the book. But for a limited time only, you can all read it. That's right. ALL OF YOU. Because I so believe in my boys, in their unconventional world and stories, and in their power to make you love them and relate to them too, whether male or female.

So. Here you go. A special page on my blog just to share a taste. I hope you enjoy it. Then go and vote for William and Christian!!

READING GOODNESS

Final Battle Cry: The Smackdown Cometh

Two days from now begins the most epic book boyfriend event ever. (Okay, I'm totally biased here, but don't give me flack. It's EPIC, damn it. Still, I digress.) We're talking awesome prizes and round for round, boxing ring action, people--action that will span more than one day and tons of blogs.  I already built up to this with a previous, more general info post, but this entry is specifically for my William Maddox and Christian Wright girls. This one is a call to action packed with deets!

 

So all three of us (and assorted awesome helpers) have been busy, busy, busy trying to get the word out to vote for the guys. I've been working hard for them, because, I honestly think they're kind of underdogs in the book boyfriend arena. I mean, both my guys are fully dressed, they're not quite so immortally ripped as some. Still, they're handsome sons o' bitches, anyway, and I was determined to give this all I had between writing my new books and editing countless others. Our guys didn't need to feel so neglected anymore. So I've spent a lot of quality time with them lately, and we've put together some cool campaign projects to rally our supporters. I can promise you, you probably haven't come across much of this before. So, where to begin?

 

How 'bout an interview? And no, no, no, I don't mean a written one. I mean a spoken one, as in a sort of author to book character podcast. Because that's exactly what the three of us got together to record for you, you know. And here, in their own words, is why William and Christian think you should vote for them!

 

 

  

 

Seriously, we figure, if they don't advance in rounds or win in a category, at least they went down fighting like the champions I've always known they were.

 

 

So why do I feel so strongly about these two, anyway? I mean, they're just book guys, right?

 

Frankly, I'm not sure. I think it's just because, when you put your whole heart and soul into a book and all its characters and the world it conceives, the whole thing just gets under your skin and into your heart and changes you. And these guys, in their own way, definitely helped change me. So I'm just doing my part to show them love. ;)

 

 

 

To make this as simple as possible for you, here's how to vote:

 

On Monday, September 30th, you can vote for Christian in the Alpha Protector category at the following host blog:

MeanGirlsLuvBooks

 

Then, to lend William your support in the Enigmatic Smartass category, hop on over to:

Blushing Reader

 

Easy peasy, right?

 

If you'd like to flirt with the guys, they've been kind of pimpin' it up a storm on Twitter, so go on and follow. They're super interactive and are soaking in all the love like sponges.

Christian's Twitter

William's Twitter

 

Before I say goodbye, I have two final presents to leave you with. (Didn't I tell you we've been busting our butts?) 

 

Christian's Smackdown Video

   

 

William's Smackdown Video

 

 

Aaaaaaaaand I'm out! PHEW!

 

Jen

Men or Robots - Animated Thoughts on Eating Our Emotions

For a while now, I've busied my mind with the task of figuring out how to fix my particular brand of screwed up. We all have one. Some of us drink, some of us are bitchy, some of us binge on sports or gamble or smoke or what have you, but we all cope somehow. If we're lucky, we're taught healthy ways to accept our emotions early on, but let's face it--most of us are not.

 

You spend enough time pealing off layers and you start to see what's underneath. And if you dare to acknowledge your issues face-to-face, to call them out, you might (novel concept that it is) actually be able to deal with them. After all, who can fight an invisible foe? You need to be able to see what you're battling, or at the very least, sense it. 

 

For me, for the longest time (25 years), I thought I was fighting a battle with food.

 

 

I sort of was--on the surface, anyway. Poor food. It wasn't trying to sabotage my body, but, I had, from a tender age, decided that it would be my coping mechanism. Completely unintentionally, of course, as I was only a child, but still. To make matters worse, I was developing (unbeknownst to any of us) an autoimmune/metabolic disease that was taking hold of my little body and already wreaking its own havoc. I was the worst imaginable candidate for becoming an overeater. Talk about your perfect storm.

 

So, why did I turn to food in the first place? I mean, I sure as hell know why I stuck with it, but why did I begin overeating at all? After all these years, I finally figured out how in the world I'd come to view food, a benign entity, as such a nemesis in my life. As with all such struggles, it's complicated, but to make it brief, I think it was a combination of things, which I'll only mention here for the sake of being relatable. All behavior must be triggered at some point. For me, it was a series of things, starting with a parent who hitchhiked through my childhood, and whose occasional return meant an abundance of love-buying in the form of junk food. The consequent reactions to my weight gain from a thin, image conscious family only served to plant and replant new seeds of food-obsessive thoughts. I was on my first diet by age nine, but had experienced plenty of soul-stamping shame much younger than that. And all for something that ran much deeper than any diet could fix. Not sure why that isn't more obvious to people, but, we tend to miss the forest for the trees. Or we tend to ignore it.

 

 

 

Turns out I wasn't fighting a battle with food at all. I was fighting a battle with feeling. 

 

I have a theory that most of us either a.) are raised to stifle our feelings by our families and strive to keep that standard, or b.) learn by example that emotions can be scary. We're raised in chaos and we want to avoid that feeling as adults through whatever means possible. 

 

I continued this into adulthood because I'd wired myself that way. Food was the solution in times when life seemed miserable or out of control. When I felt vulnerable, depressed, happy, angry, when I felt, period, I turned to food. It never went away and it never let me down and it kept my emotions in check. 

 

That same seed I'd nurtured as a little girl, the method that had gotten me through my childhood and preserved my sanity, had turned into an overgrown weed as an adult and was strangling me from the inside out. At some point this emotional repression became the default setting for me. Instead of leaving that mechanism behind once it was no longer needed, I'd learned to be frightened by the depth of my own emotions. I fell into category B, viciously determined not to live the way I'd been raised. Desperate to be emotionally "calm" at all times, this was a big mistake for a person who feels things harder than your average Jane. A BIG one.

 

And I'm not alone.

 

The thing is, most of us think we need to be here, ________________________ or here --------------------------------- at all times. Either completely zen or always happy. But you know, there's another example of a straight line that resembles this way of living.

 

Exhibit A

 

 

 

Turns out, I don't want to live like I'm dead. I don't want to be emotionally flatlined, but that's how I was trying to be for a very long time.

 

A normal heart pattern looks like this:

 

 

Same goes for brainwaves, people. This? --------------------------------- is bad. It means you're a cadaver. It's funny. Every time I go home, my family says something about how calm I am, how I don't seem to have been born of the same genes. But the fact is, yes...yes I was. And just beneath that layer of "zen" that seems to be there, is someone so incredibly passionate, someone who feels things with tremendous strength, someone who lost her voice a long time ago and is just now starting to find it again. Starting to use it. And ZOMG, guys...it's the hardest thing I've ever done! But I have no choice. If this is how I was made, it must be right.And I don't want to be an emotional cadaver. Even if it means life is harder, scarier. Even if I feel things too strongly sometimes, if I'm a little more passionate than the people around me. And if I should find my zen again through some happy consequence, fine. Balance is good. Balance is great goal. But the human condition is meant to feel. It's okay to be like this!

 

Or this.

 

Or even this

 

 

Or all of the above. Life is hard sometimes, man! Give yourself a freakin' break. Who cares if some people are scared of your feels. And who cares if you're scared of them. As long as you're not hurting folks with the verbal (or physical) HULK SMASH all the time, then feelings are fine. Process them and let them out, then move on. That's what you're really striving for, here. Emotional authenticism. Not emotional zombification.

 

Got that? In other words, this...

 

 

Not this...

 

 

 

Now that old adage "one day at a time" means something to me. I've got this mantra: "There is only today. Tomorrow doesn't exist. Today's battle is enough." Because really, it is. This is how I have to deal. One day, one feeling at a time, and every instance I overcome the desire to numb things with food is a triumph I am tremendously proud of. Because I know the strength it took. I know how incredibly difficult it is, rewiring my own brain. It's a victory.

 

 

 

Enough small battles won mean a war overcome. And I'll take it. Today is enough.

 

Love,

Jen

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

SO Many Book Boyfriends - Delivering a Beat Down

I don't even know how to prepare you all for what's about to happen in the book bloggersphere this month. It's huge. It's epic. It's hard and sweaty and totally unpredictable -- So I have to ask you, what kind of a book boyfriend would you choose if given the personality of your liking? Because you're about to get the chance to decide just that, in a March madness style boxing ring, as nearly forty hot male book characters from the Omnific Publishing collection stand off, mano y mano, for the ultimate Book Boyfriend Smackdown. And what kinds of men are we talking about here?

-Enigmatic or smart assed
-Sweet and Swoony
-Alpha and Protective
-Brooding and Broken
-Dark and Dangerous
-Unspecified

It's kind of going crazy over on the Omnific Publishing Facebook Group. You've got men jumping in and out of the practice ring--blonde golden boys, tall dark and handsomes and everything in between. Some are Tweet sparring, like my guys William Maddox and Christian Wright, and some are just laying down the verbal servitude, if you get my drift.

So these authors are all women. That doesn't mean their inner chest-beating prize fighters haven't been channeled, and we'll see whose mouthpiece is still firmly in place by the end of this thing. Just keep your eyes on THESE FOLKS, the awesome bloggers at ReadLoveLust, starting 9/30/13, because they've recruited tons of fellow book bloggers to sponsor a man, and the sparks. will. fly! Prizes will be won. Antes will be upped. This is gonna get real... ;)

Time to start placing wagers, folks. In the coming week, I'll be releasing a few surprises from my men (they paid me a visit just for this event). But for now, enjoy these pictorial messages from the Enigmatic, Smartassed Half-Vamp, William Maddox, and the Alpha Protective Brit, Christian Wright. They may not be bare chested and oiled up--yet--but they're in it to win it. Looks can be deceiving. ;)


Love and war cries,
Jen

Dreams and Runaway Trains

I never thought of myself as someone who has premonitions of things. I wasn't one of those people who dreamed about something specific only to have it happen the next day. I don't think I've ever really seen a ghost or definitive proof of anything otherworldly with my waking eyes.

But. But then again, sometimes I think life's visions aren't so blatant. They're not so spelled out for us in neat, massive sky writing. Sometimes, when you dream things and they hit you hard or stick with you forever, I think those are important things...even if we don't know why for a long time.
So far in my life, I've had two such dreams. One I wouldn't understand until recently, and one profoundly and immediately obvious. For example, the week I was to leave Missouri for Seattle, my heart was breaking. It had been two years since I'd split with my long-time significant other, but we remained best friends and as close as family. We'd basically grown up together, and I knew that saying goodbye would be one of the scariest, most difficult things we would ever do. Still, I was determined to be brave and move on to this new stage, to wipe my chalkboard clean of old mental residue and figure out who I really was. I needed to go away.

I remember laying on a blow up mattress in my ex's living room the night before we were to drive to Washington state, and just as I was about to drift off, the black of sleep turned into a stream of running water, and then the stream branched off in two different directions, with the message loud, clear and emphatic. Heck, I could even hear the water running! In fact, it was so shockingly loud that it shook me fully awake and sent me scrambling for my laptop to write an email entitled, "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL THURSDAY" (the first day alone in Seattle) for my ex to read. In it, I said that I'd had a dream and I knew I was supposed to share it and it was loud and clear: When you truly love someone, it doesn't matter if you grow apart, because that person is in you, they're a part of you and they'll always be close, no matter what it seems like. It was exactly what I didn't know I needed. And I was incredibly grateful.

Fast forward a year and a half.  I'd been thinking about an old dream--one I'd had when I was just a young teenager and predominantly charged with the care of my little brother and sister.

In the dream I was holding a young John's hand (he was probably eight or so at the time), and pushing my baby sister in a stroller. We came upon some railroad tracks, and seeing a train speeding towards us, I rushed us from the tracks only to find that we were walking on another set of them, same scenario...rushing train. Starting to panic, I hurried them along, but new tracks always emerged, and a new train sped toward us. Finally, with five or six trains barreling down on us, I turned behind me in desperation for some escape. But instead of freedom, there was a brick wall.

So many trains, relentless tracks, and a brick wall...and me, thirteen or fourteen years old, with a toddler and little boy. In that moment, I knew there was nothing I could do. I remember saying, "God help me." And then, as the worst was about to happen, I woke up.

You never forget a dream like that, though I just couldn't understand what it meant. My need to protect my brother and sister ran deep and started young--quite without any alternative. I was their caretaker and teacher. It came with the territory and it would extend into my adulthood. I was willing to be a human shield if I had to, and, in a lot of ways, I was.

But, in the end, no matter how much I wished I could keep them safe, it would reach a point where this was out of my control. The pinnacle of this realization came this past winter when, at twenty-five, my brother left this world. I felt so helpless, I was so helpless, to protect them now.

Thinking about that old train dream again, I'm pretty convinced it was more of a warning than anything else. Things would be hard. Then they'd get worse. And worse still. And eventually, we'd run out of tracks and I'd have to admit that I couldn't protect them forever. That we couldn't keep running away from the things that hurt us. Eventually, I'd have to stop with my back to a brick wall, face those trains with courage and release it to God. We love, but we have to let go. We can only stand back and pray for the best.

Maybe that was just how it had to be.

Anyway, strange things, dreams. They don't take a psychic to understand, just some awareness, or perhaps a few decades. So don't forget those dreams. You know the ones. If they don't make sense now, tuck them in your back pocket for later. You never know when their time will come.

Here's hoping I dream of joyful things tonight. I wish the same for you.

Love,
Jennifer

Sometimes I Pee...And Other Things Authors Should Know Their Editors Do

To all the wonderful authors out there,

 

You know I love you. I am you. But I've seen some things over the last few years that suggest perhaps it's time to speak on behalf of my fellow editors--those often under slept, often underpaid soldiers everywhere when I say, please, writers of books...have mercy.  

 

Look, writers are needy people. Let's just be honest with ourselves. When it comes to one's work, I well understand that things can be stressful and emotional and that one's manuscript is a very significant aspect of their life. We've foregone sleep and fielded rejection and we want this damned book published yesterday already. I know this because I have three of my own books published to date, so I've been there and I'm still doing that. But, the previous being said, there are a few points I'd like authors to keep in mind during the editing process.

 

First, an author mustn't forget that they are not the only instrument in the orchestra, so to speak. And while each author is individually concerned about their own deadlines, an editor is concerned about many. And that doesn't just include the authors on their slate, but all those involved in the process of a book's publication, from detail editors to copy editors to font setters and so forth. If more revisions are needed, if things are taking longer than expected, it's not a decision made lightly. It's a necessary one that impacts all parties. So, if we're willing to slow our roll to do things right, you should be, too.

 

Second, please know that many editors have several faces--myself included--outside the realm of the editing world. I have an obligation to market my businesses, for instance. If you see me on Twitter or Facebook, please take a deep breath before the knee-jerk feelings of neglect set in. I have a boss and a publisher, too, after all, and these venues are major factors in marketing and public relations. Each one has its own allotted time in my life. They are necessary and they are mine. If it bothers you to see that your editor has a life beyond the notes in an email or the margins of a word doc, it's probably best to look away, unfollow, whatever helps you sleep at night. You are the center of your universe--but you are not the center of your editor's.

 

Along with these things, and with the unpredictable income this business allows, your editor will often maintain another professional position to help pay their bills, which makes for a juggling act and a half, let me tell you, resulting in many grossly late nights spent squinting in front of someone's manuscript because, by golly, it needs to be done. Sure we have other personal business we'd love to cut into, sure our kids are whining or the husband/wife keeps shooting us dirty looks for ignoring them and working 16 hour days for the third week in a row...but authors rarely see that. It's all about perspective. 

  

Also, and strangely enough, I confess that editors can and do choose not to edit every free moment of their lives. They even try to maintain a day or two for non-editing purposes. As a good editor pal of mine once told me, "the NLRB ruled that my employers are required to let me sleep and eat." I tend to agree. Most of the time, I try (and fail) to make my weekends a sacred writing time. Other editors will have a "family time" rule, while others will sneak a day in to just ignore their emails and keep from becoming a mentally off-balanced, self-neglected recluse. And this is good, because you do not want a burned out editor working on your manuscript. That will do it no justice.   

 

In closing, writer folks, remember that your eagerness to be published does not and must not determine the speed of the editing process. It's bloody cool that your book is being published at all, so throw back a shot of something strong, and whatever you do...think twice before sending your editor another email, or complaining when you've (stalked) seen them doing X, Y, Z and why would they ever be doing anything else but working on your novel?!

 

I beg you. Do not repeatedly poke the editor. I mean it. Seriously, they are obviously not in this for the glory. They're in it for you. They're in it because they love words, they love perfecting them and they love helping an author present a product beyond anything a writer could have imagined by its end. Many a wonderful editor has helped me grasp this with my own books. And I'll love them forever.

 

That's all, folks. Now, go out there and do what you do! Just do it patiently, huh?

 

Love,

Jen

 

 

Don't Look For It. Be It.

We would often say that the people in our lives are what create a sense of belonging and home. But, the more I consider how unreliable a method of security that can be, the more I wonder how wise it is to cling to someone else to make us feel that way. Human connection is fulfilling, without a doubt, but, through changes we may never see coming, circumstances always out of our control, life can remove people from our midst, one way or another, physically or emotionally.

Would we still feel safe then? "Home" then? And if not, maybe it's important to learn what makes us feel "home" wherever we are...in the presence of ourselves alone. To love without attachment. To feel fulfillment in living life and giving love without expectation, and trusting in the ultimate balance. It's a lesson meant especially for me, I think.

"Don't let your soul get lonely child
It's only time, it will go by
Don't look for love in faces, places
It's in you, that's where you'll find kindness."
Ray Lamontagne - Be Here Now