tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36988935774360393432024-03-28T14:26:11.559-04:00Amanda HammBlog for Amanda Hamm, author of sweet and funny Christian romance. Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-26632995915120909482024-03-28T14:25:00.004-04:002024-03-28T14:25:40.250-04:00Three Missions<p>The official release of <i>Evelyn’s Granddaughter</i> is set
for April 11! I’d be more excited if I
wasn’t trying to slip in a very minor change before the buzzer.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There was already one last-minute change. It had to do with those problematic names
again. Someone from the first <i>Love in
Andauk</i> series has a baby in this new book.
I couldn’t decide what to name him.
He got at least three different names in early drafts of the book. Somehow, he still had two of those names in a
copy several of my proofreaders read. I
was disappointed when I discovered the mistake, mostly because it makes me
worry there are others. I’d really like
to release a book with no mistakes.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was paying particularly close attention to the names when
I reread the book for what I thought was the last time. I have a basic outline for the rest of the
series. I’ve written some of the first draft
of book 2. I used a guy from book 3 in
one scene and realized that he might be the only one missing from book 1. There are (or will be) four books that need
eight main characters. Seven of those got
at least a very brief mention in the first book. It bugs me that I left someone out. I need to find a way to add that name, and I
only have a few days for this mission.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And here’s a mission for readers, if anyone would like to
accept it. Try to guess which of the
minor characters will be promoted to main characters in the future books. Maybe even how they will be paired. I’ll give you some hints. Remember how I struggle to name
characters. Remember that sometimes I
deliberately avoid naming characters who don’t need names. If you come to a place where you think, <i>why
did the author take the trouble to give a name to this random guy about whom we
know nothing else?</i> That might be a
sign he’s going to show up again later.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What’s the third mission?
I need to write a blog post before March is over. That’s going to be a hard one. I hope I can manage it.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-64336192730657127052024-02-16T12:58:00.003-05:002024-02-16T12:58:53.047-05:00The Velvet StarfishOnce upon a time, there was a velvet starfish. This is a true story. How can it be a true story about something that doesn’t exist? Don’t worry, it’s not the main character.<br /><br />A writer was trying to design a cover for one of her books. She gathered some items relevant to the story… a paper house, a pair of shiny black turtles, a strip of lace and some flowers. She arranged those things in a myriad of ways on several different backgrounds, taking pictures of everything. Then she took those pictures to her computer to see what she could learn. <br /><br />She learned that it takes some people more than forty years to consistently take pictures that are not blurry. She learned that the lace was too narrow to frame the title of the book. She learned that the turtles no longer looked like turtles when flattened to two dimensions. They looked like black blobs. She also learned that the burgundy velvet made the nicest background, great color and texture. <br /><br />The writer took many more pictures – with her new knowledge and without the turtles – on the best background. She tried to create a cover from one of those pictures. One attempt was unbalanced. She saved that and started over. One attempt was washed out. She saved that and started over. One attempt appeared to have a house floating on top of a flower and was just super weird. She saved that and started over. <br /><br />Whenever it became clear that a cover was going bad, she saved it before she started over because this wasn’t her first cover. She had learned through years of experience that some good might be mixed in with the bad. She might eventually look back at previous attempts and realize that the effect on cover11 worked better with the higher contrast image on cover23. <br /><br />Enlarging the lace had solved one problem. But the writer had been so focused on getting the title right that she hadn’t paid enough attention to the picture. Once her attention shifted, she noticed that there were some odd wrinkles in the velvet. The wrinkles met in the middle to form a shape that bore an uncanny resemblance to a velvet starfish. The writer did not want to explain to anyone why there was a velvet starfish on her cover. She saved that one and started over. <br /><br />The writer gathered her supplies again. She paused to knock her head against the wall a few times, then snapped another big batch of pictures. She tested the new pictures behind the prepared title layer. None of the new pictures came close to working. Somehow, the flowers were sideways in several, carpet was sticking out in a few, at least one was blurry, and the writer could only conclude that she hadn’t actually been <i>trying</i> to take good pictures. Rather than another round of photography, she started sifting through the images from the beginning. <br /><br />Those black blobs that were supposed to be turtles were still black blobs. A few images might work if they could be magically zoomed out. The house floating on a flower was so weird it could almost pass for intentionally unconventional. Except almost. Finally, she did find one image with decent composition. Composition was even a good, arty word. The writer believed she was onto something. She pasted on the title layer, added a cool effect. Yes. It was beginning to look like a real cover possibility. And then she saw it. The velvet starfish was back. In her desperation, the writer had let that annoying velvet starfish creep back onto the cover. Argh. She saved that and started over.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-74676901120175362952024-01-16T09:52:00.003-05:002024-01-16T09:56:19.861-05:00Here we go again.I finished typing up the rough draft for my next book. While I’m working on the editing, I’ll need to imagine and then execute a nice cover for it. I’ve already begun brainstorming. Since this series will be sort of a sequel series to<i> Love in Anduak</i>, I think I should pull some element from those covers. They each have an oval around the title with a background image. I’m thinking I should do something like that only not like that for the next series. Maybe change the shape of that title card. <br /><br />I have a book that needs a cover and so far my idea is… wait for it… rectangle. <br /><br />This is not going to be hard. All I need to do is turn “rectangle” into a beautiful cover. <br /><br />I have had a few thoughts on that. Notice that the oval on the previous covers has a rough border. I was going for fancy, a fancy border. I don’t remember how I got the rough border I ended up with so I probably couldn’t redo it anyway. But I’d like to try a border on the rectangle that’s also like that but not exactly like that, one that’s actually fancy. <br /><br />Now my idea for the new cover is… rectangle with a border I’ve proven I don’t know how to make. <br /><br />I am definitely on the right track. I’m imagining something that looks like lace around the edge. I have some lace. If I can figure out how to take a picture that doesn’t look like a picture (it should look like something drawn) and doesn’t have anything weird showing through it (because lace has holes), I’ll have a nice place to put the title of the book. Then I’ll only need an image for the background. <br /><br />I’m thinking the background should be colorful but somehow blurred so the title is the focus. The background should be a recognizable picture but only when someone is trying to look at it. It should naturally fade into the background because it’s a background. I only need to think of something I want in the picture. And there we have it. The cover will be a bright but muted picture of something undetermined with a title printed on a fancy but impossible rectangle. It’s practically done already.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-10948358940352528612023-12-18T10:53:00.002-05:002023-12-18T10:53:35.601-05:00Christmas Fiction - Part 3<p>Here is the last part of a little Christmasy short story. <a href="https://www.amandahammbooks.com/2023/11/thankful-for-fiction.html">Start here</a> to enjoy it from the beginning.</p><p>----</p><span> </span>A baby was crying when Joseph returned. He’d gone upstairs for a break while Jessica was leading a class for moms with babies. His eyes quickly found the source of the noise. One of the little ones hadn’t liked being placed on the floor. But he quieted as soon as his mom started doing push-ups over him. Another baby giggled at the rising and falling of her mom. <br /><span> </span>Joseph made his way around the back of the class to the desk by the door. Jessica had asked him to try not to look as though he was watching the class because it would make some of the women self-conscious. He tried to busy himself with the schedule for the first week of January. As much as he loved his gym, he didn’t want to think about it while he was on vacation. He looked up as the door opened and saw a teenage girl enter and nervously approach his desk. <br /><span> </span>“Hi,” he said. “Can I help you with something?” <br /><span> </span>“Um… maybe.” She kept her hands in her coat pockets and pushed them together. She appeared to hug herself as much from nerves as from the cold. “I, uh… my teacher hangs some artwork here. She said… she said I could have my painting back early.” She drew in a shaky breath, and her eyes searched the wall behind Joseph rather than looking at him. “But she forgot to get it for me, and…” That was the moment she realized she didn’t see what she was looking for. Words failed and her face turned a darker red. <br /><span> </span>“You’re Claire, aren’t you?” he asked. <br /><span> </span>She was startled by his guess. Her eyes darted towards him but quickly back to the floor as she nodded. <br /><span> </span>“I’m pleased to meet such a talented artist. Your work got a lot of attention while it was here.” <br /><span> </span>Her lips twitched in a shy smile she was trying to hide. “Does that… uh… did Mrs. McDonald get it after all?” <br /><span> </span>The answer was no. Joseph knew that if he gave that answer, Claire’s next question would almost certainly be about who did have the painting. Then he’d be in the same position Natalie had faced, trying not to say her mom had it when he couldn’t honestly pretend he didn’t know. Joseph tried to dodge. “Your painting has had so many admirers. Everyone has said it’s beautiful. A few even said they wished they could have it.” <br /><span> </span>“Did one of them take it?” Her mouth fell open. <br /><span> </span>His stomach dropped just as far. He had not meant to imply someone might have stolen her work. “It’s safe,” he said. “It’s… I’m sure it will somehow make its way back to you… eventually.” <br /><span> </span>She nodded slowly, looking not the least bit reassured and still confused. “Okay. Uh… thanks?” She moved towards the door with her shoulders slumped. <br /><span> </span>Joseph wanted to stop her from leaving so downcast. He wanted to think of something he could say to cheer her up. He couldn’t tell her about the frame though. How could he convince her nothing bad had happened to her precious painting without giving away something he shouldn’t? <br /><span> </span>Claire’s hand froze on the door. She’d been watching the babies as she left. Her head snapped back to him, and she looked him in the eye for the first time. He saw the lightbulb had turned on. She’d realized who else she knew who had been in the gym. <br /><span> </span>He offered a tiny nod of confirmation. It didn’t count as spoiling anything if she figured it out for herself. And he enjoyed watching the grin spread across her face as she left. Her lovely work would be on display again soon. With snow in the forecast, her family might even have a chance to reenact the idyllic scene she’d created. That would be a pretty merry Christmas. Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-60578242006358127072023-12-08T14:39:00.006-05:002023-12-08T14:39:35.526-05:00Christmas Fiction - Part 2To start this story from the beginning, read the <a href="https://www.amandahammbooks.com/2023/11/thankful-for-fiction.html">post from last month</a>.<br />----<br /><br /><span> </span>The gym was packed. More than half the people walking or running laps had come in joking about needing to burn off Christmas cookies while they could. Joseph smiled at the jokes, but mostly he was happy to know all these people would miss his gym when it was closed for the next several days. <br /><span> </span>He spotted someone running outside the window, too. It wasn’t the steady pace of a jog but the stuttering quick-step of a woman trying to run in heeled boots with a giant purse throwing off her balance. Joseph recognized her before she reached the door and flung herself through it. <br /><span> </span>“Good morning, Natalie.” <br /><span> </span>“Last day before break,” she said, sounding out of breath. “I have five minutes to grab a painting on my way to school.” <br /><span> </span>He fell into step next to her. Since she was clearly in a rush, he’d get details on why she was there while moving. “You need a painting?” <br /><span> </span>“A student stopped me after school yesterday and begged me to get her work back before the break.” Natalie paused, either to sigh or work on catching her breath. “She wants to give it to her parents for Christmas.” <br /><span> </span>They waited for a break in the lap traffic, then crossed to the wall of art. Natalie scanned it all with nods of appreciation. Her students did nice work. But then she put her hands on her hips and said, “Where is it!?” <br /><span> </span>Joseph winced at where the conversation might be headed. She had eventually replied that giving the art to a parent was fine with her. But neither of them had tried to confirm it was the right parent. “Are you looking for the picture with the snowman family throwing snowballs?” <br /><span> </span>“Yes.” <br /><span> </span>“That’s the one I gave away yesterday.” <br /><span> </span>“Oh!” She slapped her hand on her forehead. “I totally forgot about that.” <br /><span> </span>“It wasn’t Claire Miller’s painting?” he asked nervously. <br /><span> </span>“What?” <br /><span> </span>“That’s whose mom I gave it to.” <br /><span> </span>Natalie blew out a slow breath, her expression revealing how her brain was trying to fit everything into place. “Claire is the one who asked me to get it back,” she finally said. <br /><span> </span>Joseph felt some relief. He had <i>not</i> given the art to the wrong parent. The relief didn’t last long as he saw there was still a slight problem. Claire wanted to give it to someone who already had it. <br /><span> </span>Natalie had reached the same conclusion. “What am I supposed to tell her?” she asked. “A frame is a wonderful idea, and I don’t want to ruin that surprise. But… I can’t just lie and say I forgot.” <br /><span> </span>“Um…” Joseph shrugged at her. “Can you be vague somehow?” <br /><span> </span>“Yeah. I guess I can say some form of I don’t have it or I couldn’t get it. Anything like that is going to make her assume I forgot though. I hate to look like the bad guy.” <br /><span> </span>“She’ll understand when she gets it back at Christmas,” he said. <br /><span> </span>Natalie frowned. “I don’t think that’s going to make me feel better when I face a very disappointed child later today. Gotta go regardless. Merry Christmas!” She waved over her shoulder as she resumed her quick little steps towards the front door. <br /><span> </span>Joseph turned back to the other snowy paintings. Next year he was going to remind Natalie to ask her students if they’d finished their Christmas shopping before she hung up the batch for December.<br />Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-51866927247660673692023-11-28T09:29:00.003-05:002023-11-28T09:29:25.751-05:00Thankful for FictionOne of the things I’m grateful for is that I have a tradition of writing fiction for the end of the year blog posts. Fiction is more fun than straining my brain to come up with mildly entertaining ways to say I can’t think of anything to say. This year, I’m bringing back a few characters who will be familiar to those who have read the Love in Andauk series. My next series will have the subtitle More Love in Andauk, which means this story won’t be the last place these characters appear. Here is part 1 of my Christmasy short story.<br /><br />----
<br /><br /><span> </span>Joseph watched his wife point her right foot and tap her toe on the floor as she counted. The four and five-year-olds she was leading were cute as they tried to follow her. Two of them were on the wrong foot and only one was on the beat. <br /><span> </span>Emily wobbled as she switched to point her left foot. She wasn’t the most coordinated person, yet her movements were backed by a confident grace. She smiled and turned the little wobble into an exaggerated wiggle for the kids to copy. They wiggled with so much enthusiasm that one of the girls in the back nearly fell over. Emily had them tapping toes again quickly, though three were now on the wrong foot. <br /><span> </span>A contented sigh rippled through Joseph as he took in the whole scene. The class was nearly over and parents were lining the side wall for pickup. One was staring at a phone, but the others were happily watching their kids. Except for the woman he realized was trying to catch his eye. She waved him over as she succeeded. Joseph tried to remember her name as he crossed the gym. He knew she was Sofia’s mom, whose last name was Miller. Mrs. Miller had asked to be called by her first name. Anna? That sounded right. <br /><span> </span>“Anna, right?” he confirmed as he reached her. <br /><span> </span>She nodded. “First, I have to tell you again how much Sophia loves this class. Emily is amazing. Do you know how long she’s going to take off when the baby comes?” <br /><span> </span>“Two weeks for sure. Then she’ll see how she feels,” Joseph said. “She’s already working with Jessica to take over her classes, and she’s encouraging her to take more time. I’ll let them work it out.” He didn’t mention that Emily would be returning the favor a few months later. Jessica was early enough in her pregnancy that she hadn’t told many people yet. <br /><span> </span>“Oh, she’ll definitely need more than two weeks,” Anna said. <br /><span> </span>“She’ll have the time if she needs it.” Joseph stuck with the noncommittal answer. He’d probably be pushing Emily for a longer rest himself if it was a full-time job. She only taught five one-hour classes each week. <br /><span> </span>“Okay, so the other reason I needed to talk to you is this picture.” Anna turned and held her hands up to either side of one of the pictures on the wall. <br /><span> </span>The high school art teacher brought a new batch of artwork each month to fill the display space. Since it was December, her students had painted winter scenes, most with wreaths or colorful lights here and there. Anna was pointing to Joseph’s favorite. It depicted a snowman family having a snowball fight with a brightly lit house in the background. <br /><span> </span>“That’s a wonderful painting,” he agreed. <br /><span> </span>“It’s my daughter’s.” She beamed with pride. “I know it.” <br /><span> </span>He glanced at Sophia, even though he knew that couldn’t be the daughter she meant. <br /><span> </span>“My oldest, Claire, is in 10th grade. I know it says anonymous, but I’d know her work anywhere. It’s definitely my Claire’s.” <br /><span> </span>“Wow. You can tell her it’s the one I like best this month.” <br /><span> </span>She nodded and kept talking eagerly. “I want to take it with me today so I can have it framed for her before Christmas.” <br /><span> </span>“Oh… Uh…” He didn’t immediately know how to respond. The picture wasn’t really his to give away. “Maybe Natalie has a free period right now. I’ll see what she thinks.” He pulled out his phone to text the art teacher. <br /><span> </span>They both turned to watch the class as Emily instructed the kids to start skipping in a circle. She asked them to throw their hands up and yell random words like “aardvark” and “carnation” once or twice each lap. It did look like fun. Joseph’s brain was scrambling for how he’d answer if Natalie didn’t respond. He knew the art was graded before it came to the gym and would be handed back to the students as soon as it was collected. Handing it to one student’s mom might just cut out a middle step. Unless she was wrong about recognizing the artist. <br /><span> </span>Emily sent the kids back to their dots on the floor to practice curtsies. That was how she ended each class. And still no response from Natalie. <br /><span> </span>“You are sure this is your daughter’s painting?” he asked. <br /><span> </span>“Absolutely. And this is the frame I know she’ll love on it.” Anna held up her phone to show the frame she’d been shopping. “I need the painting right now or it won’t be ready by Christmas.” <br /><span> </span>This was Sofia’s last class of December. The gym would still be open one more day, but the day after that was Christmas Eve. Anna <i>was</i> running out of time to make it a gift. Joseph checked his messages one more time under the weight of the pleading look he was getting. If she wanted to have it framed, it stood to reason she’d handle it carefully. “All right,” he said. “You’ll bring it back quickly if it’s not hers?” <br /><span> </span>She sighed dramatically. “That would be so embarrassing. But I’m absolutely positive it’s hers.” <br /><span> </span>Joseph took the snowman painting down gently and handed it to her. “I do hope she loves the frame. Merry Christmas.” <br /><span> </span>“Thank you. Thank you.” Anna took it with a squeal. She rushed over to Sophia, who was getting a small candy cane from Emily. There were shouts of Merry Christmas all around as the kids and parents filed out of the gym. Joseph glanced back at the now empty space on the wall. He knew he’d made someone’s day, but he still wished he had confirmation it was the right decision.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-66644597980470024412023-10-20T09:05:00.005-04:002023-10-20T09:05:50.839-04:00No Title<p>I’m writing a new book.
It’s not as new as it once was.
In fact, I’m starting to feel as though I’ve been writing the same new
book <i>forever</i>. It’s still just
scribbles in a notebook. There are more
scribbles than there were a few months ago so… progress. I guess that’s good.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But I’m making progress towards that moment when I put down
my pen and realize my finished book still needs a title and a cover and a blurb
and editing and formatting and… what it needs more than anything is a title.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I know that every book needs those
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I say I realize it, I mean
I come to the moment I realize I can no longer put off working on the title and
the cover and the rest and the title.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And of course I know that moment is coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All this talk of realizing things I already
know is kind of like poetic license, inasmuch as poetic license is like whining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have any idea what to call the
book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While that does bug me, I’ve been in
this situation enough times to be confident I’ll think of a title I like in the
end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I’m not really whining about
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m pretending to whine, which is
also sort of like poetic license.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Maybe because it was another way to continue putting off
thinking of a title, I decided to research poetic license to determine if
someone who is not and never will be a poet is allowed to claim it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The [already proven unreliable on several
occasions] dictionary I grabbed because it was handy had no entry for the
term.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Later, I will research the
definition of research.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did notice
the nearby entry to poetic gives the definition as imaginative.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is where everything comes together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given that whatever title I eventually choose
will be poetic (because it will come from my imagination), I therefore have the
license to claim that nothing in this post is actually nonsense after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too bad I was aiming higher than “not
nonsense.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me go look up
entertaining.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-54150739426774863152023-09-18T11:17:00.003-04:002023-09-18T11:17:35.901-04:00Time Traveling<p>Some people call it insta-love. It’s a criticism of books and movies where
the audience is expected to believe the main characters are truly in love way
too soon, within days if not hours of meeting the beloved.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a romance fan, I’ve rolled my eyes at many examples of
this. I’ve read that a heroine knew she
was madly in love because of a light-headed feeling. I wanted someone in the book to ask her if
she was sure she hadn’t just stood up too fast.
That can happen. I’ve been told
characters were in love when they’d barely had a conversation because of all
the things their eyes had communicated.
That is called infatuation. A gaze
across a room doesn’t say if he’ll mock her religious beliefs or if she’ll want
him to quit his job to raise donkeys in the desert.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I can’t say how many times I’ve watched that movie where
a young woman has to return home to the family [ranch, B&B, vineyard, farm,
flower shop, etc.] for some big event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(I can’t say partly because I’ve lost count and partly because it’s an embarrassing
admission.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She meets a guy who is
either the competition or trying to shut down the business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter what contrived conflicts or
ridiculous misunderstandings arise in the two or three days before the event,
she is madly in love with him at the end because, well, because she said so. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Let’s not analyze that any further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not trying to sharpen my knives
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These examples are brought up in
fun to illustrate something I try to avoid in my work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, my books are fluffy and
light-hearted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they still need to
hold to the truth that real love takes time to develop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Superficial relationships aren’t funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You need to know someone before you know what
makes him laugh and before you know how to push her buttons.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are two ways to avoid insta-love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first is to establish that the main
characters knew each other before the story started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they’ve been friends for a while, maybe
they have shared history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When there is
already some sort of relationship, I can use a short timeline to create a
romantic shift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pop quiz: Name the books
in which I’ve used this strategy.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The other, and in my opinion more difficult, option is to
stretch out the timeline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t do
that by simply including a sentence that begins with “six months later.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Readers will want to know what happened in
those six months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>I</i> will want to
know what happened in those six months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The rest of the book is going to be weird when I make references readers
don’t understand or have characters who don’t seem to have said or done
anything in all that time.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Another terrible way to jump ahead is to pick random days to
illustrate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s what happened on this
day, and two weeks later there was this other event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I’ll show you what happened on a day
with snow so you’ll know it’s later in the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My couple will be getting along great and readers
will be happy to see them holding hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No one will care that we missed the first time he reached for her or how
they resolved that issue that caused an argument on the warmer day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even worse would be a complete summary of events.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could simply inform readers that she agreed
to spend a lot of time with him, that he said some sweet words at some point,
and now it’s time to believe they’re headed for happily ever after.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t work to <i>say</i> it isn’t insta-love.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So if those are some of the wrong ways to move the timeline
ahead, what is a right way?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s all of
the above.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mix up the wrong ways – a bit
of skipping, a bit of summarizing, and even a bit of randomness – and hopefully
end up with a plot that gives the characters enough time to start to love each
other without missing any of the highlights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is why it’s difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have to squeeze all these lemon ideas into sweet lemonade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I squeeze too hard, I’ll end up with seeds
and pulp in the story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or I’ll just ruin
the metaphor.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-52356013003304423922023-08-22T09:11:00.002-04:002023-08-22T09:11:08.717-04:00Do I need to like everything I write?<p>This is a question I’ve been pondering lately. Notice that it is a yes or no question. I cannot answer it without first breaking it
down and clarifying exactly what I mean and basically making it more complicated. Otherwise, this would be a very short post.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">As a whole, I need to like every book I write. They can’t all be my favorite; I do like some
more than others. But I won’t publish
something I don’t like. That’s not
really what I mean by this question at all.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It isn’t about the opinions of the characters either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want my main characters to be different and
variety insists they can’t all sound just like me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes they deliberately express opinions
I don’t share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes they do things I
can’t picture myself ever doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
to imagine the character with different influences and experiences, even in
little things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the book I’m currently
writing, for just one example, the heroine spots a guy carrying a floor
tom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(No, I’m not going to explain why
right now.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She does not have a son who
plays the drums, nor have I imagined a particularly musical background.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed more appropriate for her to
describe the drum than to throw out the name.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And now we’re finally coming to what sparked the title
question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the same book, there is a
pizza restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not like the name
I’ve given to this restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
say what this name is because I haven’t decided if I’m going to change it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I think of an awesome name tomorrow, no
one needs to know what the bad name was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And if someone eventually sees that awesome name in the book and thinks
it’s really not that awesome, no one needs to know I changed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now, let’s imagine I called the pizza
place something super creative like Pizza Place.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whenever a character refers to Pizza Place, I have something
like a mental spasm where I’m trying not to be terribly annoyed with a
character I otherwise like for calling his restaurant something ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t think of this name, he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except that we all know I’m really behind his
thoughts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to blame him for the
dumb name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was his bad idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I gave him that idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are only two possibilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m either entertaining myself with a paradox
that isn’t, or I hurt my brain a little when it sputtered out that awful
name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Writing is fun.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-34854472710278104202023-07-21T10:12:00.002-04:002023-07-21T10:12:26.517-04:00Break Time is Over<p>At times, there is so much going on around me that it’s
difficult to concentrate on whatever book I’m currently writing. I have found that it’s better to step away
than fight for focus. If a break is only
a few days, it’s easy to get back into my story. If it stretches into several weeks – as it
did recently – I need to spend some time looking at notes and reading what I’ve
written to re-immerse myself. I’m
surprised at the variety of reactions.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am not surprised that I like some parts of my work better
than others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a rough draft after
all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find sections that make me think
I might have talent, and then I find other sections that make me wonder if I
even know what talent is.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What surprises me is how well I do or do not remember the
pages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some words trigger a memory of
exactly how long I stared at them before I could think of a good next
line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some make me remember what I almost
wrote instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I usually find anywhere
from a paragraph to a few pages that I remember writing so clearly that I know
where I was, why I was there and the question someone interrupted me to
ask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The associations are so embedded in
the text I can picture myself writing those words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I also find equally long sections that I do not remember
writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The words aren’t even
familiar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could believe someone else
borrowed the notebook and continued my story without me if I didn’t recognize
the handwriting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s weird because I’m
not <i>that</i> old.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One thing that is never a surprise is the length of what I’ve
written.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may have forgotten some details,
and I may need to check which plot points I’ve hit, but I always remember how
much work I still need to do on that book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now I need to get back to it.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-61048542788593810202023-06-14T08:37:00.000-04:002023-06-22T11:07:34.628-04:00Still Wrong<p>Last May I wrote about some of the ways<a href="https://www.amandahammbooks.com/2022/05/i-think-ill-keep-doing-it-wrong.html" target="_blank"> I’m doing this author blog thing wrong</a>. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the whole author
thing wrong. Why? Because I’d like to read more books like mine,
and I rarely find any. When you spend
years and years painting mountains and everyone around you is painting other
things, you have to wonder if mountains are wrong. Here are a few reasons I think I might be
painting mountains.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My Christian fiction is Catholic.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve read enough to know that Christian
fiction should be completely nondenominational (unless it’s Amish).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Characters discuss the faith in broad strokes
(Go Jesus!) without delving into specific doctrines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they do this with the vocabulary and general
understanding that all Christians are Protestants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not trying to break rules or break into apologetics
when my characters mention Mass or Confession.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have to write what I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
is also a rule.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My Catholic characters act Catholic.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s possible I’ve had terrible luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems that every time I manage to find a
Catholic story, I’m disappointed by dubious content.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One book that recently sounded promising was taken
off my list by a review that praised it for having a main character who “says
bad words! Just like a real person.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
only reason I seek out Christian/Catholic books is to avoid the things I can find
in almost every other book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think people
who live by a moral code are more fun to be around, in both real and made-up
worlds.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My light entertainment does not grapple with anything.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too often in Christian fiction, characters
who are truly living their faith still have heavy regrets in their past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Readers are forced to watch as they deal with
consequences or painful memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
might even read about someone struggling to escape abuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Serious issues do not make good
entertainment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I prefer not to torture
my characters.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My definition of “inspirational” includes more than
tragedy.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christian fiction likes to
explore the ways God comforts and aids us through the most trying times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get that, and I respect it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But tear-jerkers are not my cup of tea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dipped my toes into that water with <i>They
See a Family</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that book did
stretch my writing muscles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it still
makes me feel as though I need to apologize to anyone it might have made cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no plans to read or write anything
else that includes the words tragedy or heartbreak in the blurb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My soul is inspired by joy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My fluffy romances do not illuminate the human condition
or other such nonsense.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am turned
off by fiction that promises to be meaningful and/or make people think really
hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spiritual growth is awesome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rest is awesome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe they are best achieved in separate spheres.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that reading my books will make people
smile, maybe even laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no
aspirations to change anyone’s life with my stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My characters aren’t stupid.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I need to admit quite a bit of bias and
subjectivity here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I do find light
stories, I quickly lose patience with authors who try to draw comedy from people
acting unbelievably dense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, no!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My credit card is rejected because I keep
buying stuff I don’t need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, no!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m trying to do something without admitting
I have no idea how to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, no! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m hiking muddy terrain in spikey heels so I’m
about to fall on my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, no! This
misunderstanding is going on forever because I keep talking over you when you
try to explain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, no! I had to close
the book that wasn’t funny.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My fiction is not nonfiction.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I feel I’m being particularly hard on
other Catholic authors, I want to point out without naming names that there are
several whose works I love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They even
include powerful messages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they all
write nonfiction, which is where life-changing words belong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I wish those authors would pen some
fiction for when I’m in the mood for simple entertainment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot ask that without asking why I don’t
write nonfiction. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please keep doing what
you love.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ll keep doing what I love, too, even if it’s wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because in the end, I’m the only one who has
to look at the mountains I’m painting.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-11320757477653789002023-05-01T11:09:00.003-04:002023-05-01T11:09:22.184-04:00Naming Characters and Not Naming Characters<p>I try not to inhale too deeply when I read the musty old
phone book. I try not to throw anything
when I get through several classes before I realize the yearbook I’m skimming
is another copy of the one I skimmed yesterday.
Mostly, I try to keep my sense of humor when naming characters is still
the hardest part of every new project. Has
anyone noticed how that shows up in my books?
Every now and then I like to avoid giving some insignificant character a
name. Here are a few examples.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">From <i>Into the Fire</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></i></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">“Hey, man,
hear you’re on your way out.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
welcome voice of a coworker arriving on the scene.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">“Yeah,”
Joseph said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m about to grab my last
schedule.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">“Hope Mr. D.
is in,” the other guy said as he opened the door.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Joseph
nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could still hope for that
even if Joseph already knew it wasn’t true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He sensed the other guy’s steps slow as his hopes were dashed.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">“Hello,
boys.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jillian stood from her desk and
walked around to sit on the front of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Here for your schedules?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">“Of course,”
other guy said.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Joseph would
be trying harder to remember his name if it wasn’t likely the last time he’d
ever see him.</span></i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I might have tried harder to give that other guy a name if it
wasn’t also the only time he shows up in the book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Notice that the boss didn’t get a full last
name either.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">From <i>Collecting Zebras</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .25in;"><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></i></p><blockquote><i> </i><i>Jon pulled out a pan and said, “Who told you my last name?”<br /><span> </span>“Oh, I just met one of my neighbors. He said if I didn’t know someone’s last name I should guess Thorpe because there are a million of them in Hartford.”<br /><span> </span>“A slight exaggeration, but there are a lot of us. My dad’s mom and dad had eleven kids and nine of them were boys so they kept the name and every one of them has at least two kids, a lot of whom also have kids.” <br /><span> </span>“I know there’s a kindergarten teacher named Thorpe. Her first name is…” <br /><span> </span>Jon nodded before I could remember it. “She’s my cousin,” he said.</i></blockquote><i></i><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .25in;"><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He very conveniently cut her off before I had to give that
character a name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s the real reason
Angel couldn’t remember it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">From <i>The Art of
Communication</i></span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span></p>
<i><blockquote><span> </span>Katie tried to figure out how to politely tell her sister she was making a big deal out of nothing. “Why are we even talking about Christmas ornaments in the summer? You know it’s barely July, right?” <br /><span> </span>“Well, I…” She let out a short laugh, heading off her own tantrum before it started. She might have a quick temper, but she wasn’t completely unreasonable. “I saw an ad for some Christmas in July sale happening next week, and it got me thinking about how this will be my first Christmas as a mom and how the little one will be too little to remember it or even really do anything special and I thought about how we’d at least have a special ornament to… I thought if I worked on it now, I could present it to Mom as a way of announcing the name and everything.” <br /><span> </span>“That would be nice,” Katie said.</blockquote></i>
<p class="MsoNormal">What’s nice is that Katie’s sister is keeping her baby’s
name a secret so I don’t have to think of one.
Later, it’s mentioned that the baby got their mom’s first name as a
middle name. The mom is never introduced. I still didn’t actually give the baby a name.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">From <i>The Art of Introductions</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i></i></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i>“Have you had any luck with the online dating thing
lately?” Ryan asked. He was looking at Cameron.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cameron kept his
eyes on the cards he was dealing. “No comment.”<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i>“Sounds like a no,” Logan said.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i>Trevor smiled. “No luck is better than bad luck.”<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i>“For Cameron maybe,” Ryan said, “but I kind of enjoy
hearing about the bad luck.”<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i>“Me, too,” Logan said. “What was the name of the one who
turned out to be nearly as old as your mom?”<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i>“Still not commenting.” Cameron kept his eyes on the
cards. His tone got a bit of an edge to it.</i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .4in;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Cameron isn’t commenting on the name because I’m not. I try to keep the edge out of my voice when talking
about naming my characters by having a little fun where I can. At least in my fantasy series, I am allowed to
make up names. And I can use that as an
elegant segue into mentioning that the birthday of <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Birthdays-Wisherton-Amanda-Hamm-ebook/dp/B0C3Y4G6ZR" target="_blank">Birthdays in Wisherton</a></i>
will be May 27<sup>th</sup>. I recommend
my new book over any of the name lists I’ve been reading.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-10730151085188155372023-04-01T10:14:00.004-04:002023-04-01T10:14:48.708-04:00It's Almost Easter!<p>I’m going off brand this month because I’m currently working
on a different type of writing - clues for Easter egg hunts. I love Easter egg hunts. Now. Some
of the first hunts I hosted turned competitive and not entirely full of joy. Over the last fifteen years or so I have put
a lot of time and effort into making the hunts at my house something special. This is not advice though. It’s just a few things I’ve learned. If anyone happens to benefit, yay!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">1) Color-coded hunts work well for younger kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each kid is looking for and only allowed to
pick up a certain color of egg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">2) Hunts can be divided with some kids looking inside and
some searching outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Or different
rooms in the house if it’s rainy.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
way you can use more difficult places for bigger kids without them also
snatching up the easy ones before the little ones can get them.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">3) If you hide eggs indoors, think carefully about where you
hide them and what directions you give for finding them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If people start dumping out drawers and
emptying cabinets that are nowhere near the hiding places, someone might freak
out.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">4) You don’t actually have to put anything inside the
eggs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can simply have the kids trade
the eggs they found for a basket or bag of goodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or have the last egg in a scavenger hunt be
some sort of ticket for the treats.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">5) Individual scavenger hunts are awesome for kids old
enough to read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s still best to keep
these color-coded for two reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One, kids
won’t accidentally find someone else’s egg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Two, you don’t have to think of as many hiding places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There can be three eggs in the freezer if
they are all different colors.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">6) Find someone to play-test your clues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard to judge the difficulty of
something when you already know the answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If a ten-year-old needs two adults to help him figure out one of your
clues, he’ll be well within his rights to give you a hard time about it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">7) An alternative to having kids rummaging through your house
is to have the eggs “hiding” in plain sight. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Assign each egg a number, and each clue will
point to one of those numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there
are a hundred eggs around the house, it will still take some hunting to find
the right one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I write the number on a
piece of masking tape with a bit of ribbon, then clip the egg to the ribbon so
I can stick them all over the walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
can also write the numbers on the eggs and just scatter them.)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">8) Write down the answers to all of your clues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a hassle to re-solve each clue as you
hide them to know which number or hiding place you need next.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">9) Kids will enjoy the hunts more if you use a variety of
clues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t make them all lame
riddles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only use one lame riddle per
child.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">10) Inventing new types of clues is fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t believe me? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s switch to Roman numerals for a few
examples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Roman numerals are fun,
too.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>i. A maze with letters printed
throughout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Solving the maze will spell
out a clue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scramble the letters for an
extra challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ii. Lame riddles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>iii. A mini crossword puzzle with answers
like upstairs, bathroom, second and drawer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>iv. Codes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can print
something simple with a cute Easter clipart to represent each letter of the
alphabet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a super challenge, have a
number represent each letter, only give the kid a few letters to get started and
make him run all over the house to figure out which letters they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ex. The letter A is represented by the last
two digits on the serial number inside the microwave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>v. Write out the clue with a few extra
letters repeated in the middle of the words and have the kid cross off those
letters to read it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>vi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the kids are hunting numbers, just give a
math problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not homework if it’s
part of something fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>vii.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Write a ridiculously bad nonsense poem where
the first letter of each line spells a clue if you read straight down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>viii.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kids love silly active clues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Write a list of instructions that involve hopping from one room to
another, spinning around and making funny noises before ending at the hiding
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kids know the last step will
lead them straight to the egg, but I have never seen a kid skip ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess my writing is good even off brand.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-16012882142697373702023-03-22T13:41:00.001-04:002023-03-22T13:41:07.441-04:00Cover Story<p>I’m writing about dirt today. This is going to be awesome. The new <i>Wisherton</i> book doesn’t have a release
date yet, but I’m guessing May or June.
That’s close enough that the book needs a cover. Oh, joy of joys.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Please don’t mistake all this sarcasm for negativity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Making a book cover is fun, and that’s not
sarcasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get to take a break from
writing to stretch a different creative muscle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My visual design muscle is a weakling though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It lifts in ounces not pounds, and it gets
strained easily.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On the way to creating each new cover, I typically ruin several
with an ugly font or a weird effect or an accidental deletion or by merging
layers I meant to blend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think every
time I make a new cover, I also come up with a new way to ruin one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s another way to say I come up with a
new way to laugh at myself, and that’s why it’s fun.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Let’s talk about my new cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s still a work in progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because this is a series, I need to keep it
consistent with the previous books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
is the theme of the <i>Wisherton</i> covers so far?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I gave you a hint in the first sentence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The theme is dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look at the
first four books on your bookshelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Or
you can peek at the bottom of the page.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The theme is clearly dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
laughing at myself already.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now I feel compelled to explain how I arrived at this
brilliant theme.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t use stock
photos because I want my covers to be original.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t use original drawings because I can’t draw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously, even my stick figures are
sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <i>Wisherton</i> books are set in a
fantasy world so I wanted to avoid a picture of anything that looked too much
like the ordinary, everyday, non-fantasy world. Most of the events happen
outdoors, which is where I went in search of a cover photo.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I went to my backyard and started with a maple tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t ask me to be more specific than maple,
my nature skills are as bad as my drawing skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I knew it was a maple and that anyone else
would recognize that much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a
few other nature things I considered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They all seemed equally non-fantasy-ish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then it occurred to me that no matter what plants grew in this strange
world, they’d probably still need dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In trying to avoid anything overly ordinary, I ended up with a picture
of the most ordinary thing of all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
now you know what to think of my logic skills.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To be fair, dirt is only the background of each cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is something more interesting in each
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For this new cover, I thought I could
use pretty flowers, modified in some way to appear more foreign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before I could do the hard part of changing
the flowers, I needed to do the “easy” part of figuring out where in the
picture they looked nicest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they
didn’t look nice anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t like
them draped down one side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t like
them on the other side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t like
them across the top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sort of liked
them at a diagonal, except that my foot ruined the picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never accidentally gotten my own foot in
a cover photo before so I guess that was the new way to ruin it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And all that was before one of my early readers said the
brief mention of flowers in the story isn’t enough to make it an appropriate
cover image anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The alternative
suggestion is to show a paw of the imaginary baby animal from the story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know if I need to change my flower
idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also don’t know if getting a
picture of an animal that doesn’t exist would be any more difficult than
getting those flowers to do something interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only know this work is going to be in
progress for some time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m still
laughing.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-11450029192724098832023-02-24T13:19:00.003-05:002023-02-24T13:19:30.007-05:00The Best of Times and the Worst of Times<b>Q. Why are you writing about <i>A Tale of Two Cities</i>?</b><br />A. I’m not.<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q.
Hmm. What’s with the title reference?</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. It
struck me as an apt description for the current state of both my projects.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q.
That brings up several questions, but first, why is this in interview form?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. I
started to write a post the “normal” way and found myself beginning a sentence
with “If someone asked me…” Then of course someone had to ask me the question.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. That
makes total sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do your projects
relate to the best and worst times?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. It’s
the best of times because with these two books, I’m at my first and second
favorite steps in the writing process.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. Wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What <i>is</i> your favorite step in writing
a book?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. It’s
writing the last sentence of the first draft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s an amazing sense of accomplishment when those words hit the
paper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the good kind of pride, the
feeling that I just did something hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I committed to months of work and got it done.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. Are
you talking about the <i>Wisherton</i> book you mentioned last month?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m typing up the rough draft right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, not right this minute because I’m
working on this interview.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But essentially
right now.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. You
have another project at your second favorite step?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. Yes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. And
that is?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. The
step or the project?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q.
Both.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. I
think I’ve landed on an idea for my next romance book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The very beginning is a fun step in the
process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m spending time in fantasy
land and letting myself get excited about new stories and new characters, just
in case it might be a series.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. That
all sounds fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why is it also the worst
of times?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. I
admit that’s a melodramatic take.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
from experience that my two favorite parts are also some of the shortest parts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only get to enjoy that finished draft for
as many days as it takes me to type it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then I have to start looking for ways to improve it, sometimes even admitting
that part of my hard work isn’t very good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There will be changes and additions or deletions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically, my sense of accomplishment is
bashed around by reminders that I’ve only actually completed one step.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q. I
guess you don’t get to stay in fantasy land either?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. I can
only scribble thoughts and highlights for so long before I have to commit to
the difficult task of writing it all into a coherent story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That puts a damper on some of the fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And before I can even do that, I have to <i>name</i>
everyone.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;"><b>Q.
Thanks for taking the time to answer some questions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the way, what was the question someone
needed to ask?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in;">A. Don’t
worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We covered it.<o:p></o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-50282592678697233012023-01-26T11:22:00.002-05:002023-01-26T11:22:29.368-05:00Back to WishertonIsn’t <i>Back to Wisherton</i> the title of a book I wrote a few years ago? Yes. Wasn’t it also the title of a previous blog post? No. Isn’t the whole <i>Wisherton</i> series a bit, I don’t know, off-brand for me? Yes and no.<br /><br />Now let me elaborate on these questions.<i> Back to Wisherton</i> is in fact the second book in what is currently a four-book series. I named a post Back to <i>Names</i> around the time it released because I was excited to share that new book. I named this post because I’m excited to announce that I am going back to the <i>Wisherton </i>series to add a 5th book. <br /><br />The title of book 5 will be <i>Birthdays and Wisherton</i>. Is anyone surprised by the format, a word that starts with B followed by Wisherton? I mean, anyone other than me. I never intended for that to be a thing. The first two books are set a little earlier than the rest. They go together to launch the series, and it seemed appropriate to give them similar titles. I had something completely different in mind for the 3rd book. And then I got yelled at. <br /><br />Some people around me, including my children… okay, mostly my children, were outraged that I planned to deviate from the pattern I had established with the first two books. Nobody cared that I wasn’t trying to establish a pattern. I didn’t know I was locking myself into every book I write about these characters forever and ever having to start with the letter B. Fortunately, I warmed up to the idea of a starting point for my titles, though I would have put up a bigger fight if I had to work with Q. <br /><br />As to the last question of whether I’ve wandered off track with this series, I think I can say no, not totally off track. Most of my books are romantic comedies and this is children’s fantasy. It is a different genre. But I’m still writing all the essentials. Wisherton is a fantasy world where Christianity does not exist. They do believe in a creator and that the sometimes supernatural gifts they’re given are for helping each other. There is still faith. <br /><br />Love doesn’t always mean romantic love. I enjoy illustrating the strong bonds of family and friendship. Of course the people we most love are also the ones most capable of annoying us. That is an awesome source of humor for an author. I am inspired daily. Not that I’m suggesting anything in my books is directly from my own life. Any similarities are purely coincidental. Probably.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-20427543709248413762022-12-16T12:44:00.000-05:002022-12-16T12:44:38.731-05:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCljlwObmRdMx8o3ZM4DcV7TYRYApq8qUkwvrZzbgqiCTTNOeMk2VKf6gh3paAByAExOs3WIUSokMfSabCnuiGSfSOP79p--Yu-MG-QuwGNXdJKJvLos6HzDqCJB_SCyWA1603kf1pUyuNIl6pFZCQW9ZmO3Jmc01Gxr5EgpNfaaJHBSb95IMN4OBx/s3600/cover3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="2400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCljlwObmRdMx8o3ZM4DcV7TYRYApq8qUkwvrZzbgqiCTTNOeMk2VKf6gh3paAByAExOs3WIUSokMfSabCnuiGSfSOP79p--Yu-MG-QuwGNXdJKJvLos6HzDqCJB_SCyWA1603kf1pUyuNIl6pFZCQW9ZmO3Jmc01Gxr5EgpNfaaJHBSb95IMN4OBx/w133-h200/cover3.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>Today is release day. <i>The Art of Proposing</i> is now available. Maybe it could even be a last minute Christmas present, if ebooks weren't hard to wrap. This is only a very short preview of the last short story since no one has to wait to read the rest of it. <p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b>Ryan’s Turn<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;"><o:p> </o:p><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">The town had already hung the
wreaths on the lampposts.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">The lights
were off because it was the middle of the day, but Violet still smiled to see
how pretty they looked.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">It increased her
already Christmasy mood on the way to help Ryan decorate the January Café.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">He turned down a drab side street to park
behind the restaurant.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;">Violet had been inside with him
when it was closed at least a handful of times.
Watching him unlock the door and flip on the lights still made her feel
special. He didn’t let just anyone
in. He unlocked the office as well.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;">“You can start making a plan while
I wrestle the tree,” he said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;">She said, “Okay,” and went inside
to the cabinet of decorations. She
identified the box with the tree ornaments – it was labeled so it wasn’t
difficult – and picked it up intending to bring it out front near where the
tree would go. She’d only made it back
to the office door when she heard the creaking of a stepladder unfolding. She set the box down to investigate.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;">Ryan had placed it between two prep
tables and was about to ascend. He
seemed to read on her face that she didn’t have a question. “You want to watch me get it down?”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;"><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;">“I’m curious.”</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;">She answered with a shrug.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;">“You were kind of mysterious about it last
year.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.4in;">Like, you wait here so you don’t
see me getting the tree from its super-secret hiding place.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He let out a short laugh, then talked as he
moved up the ladder.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">“I’m sure I never
called it a super secret, but I was probably vague on purpose.”</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p>----</p><p>To read the rest of the story, buy the 99-cent ebook: <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-art-of-proposing/id6443438021" target="_blank">Apple</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Proposing-Romance-Arts-ebook/dp/B0BFNPF2FW" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-art-of-proposing-amanda-hamm/1142281702?ean=2940165932489" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-art-of-proposing" target="_blank">Kobo</a>.</p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-21816557423504972872022-11-16T11:00:00.004-05:002022-11-16T11:00:16.480-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_FjU3GoE9c_mRkvmEzMIrKNdSsWuOB6CKffvuYgApN0p2eMDYzXBwQBUvvd__x-4upkHmZ9ydau3IDk93RHVAqmavhDj1-WnBJqL9yvgsDnZVxTg7qv81_WVjXY7OrQhuYqGSoWS0FXZFH0MK-8LLu4tTT6H_qUBFV4C1hs7vbpHrLZxkBozYnAD/s3600/cover3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="2400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_FjU3GoE9c_mRkvmEzMIrKNdSsWuOB6CKffvuYgApN0p2eMDYzXBwQBUvvd__x-4upkHmZ9ydau3IDk93RHVAqmavhDj1-WnBJqL9yvgsDnZVxTg7qv81_WVjXY7OrQhuYqGSoWS0FXZFH0MK-8LLu4tTT6H_qUBFV4C1hs7vbpHrLZxkBozYnAD/w133-h200/cover3.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><p>I didn't promise any specific day last month, but I did say the third story would have a preview in November. First a bit of news... The kindle version of the fourth book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Friendship-Romance-Arts-Book-ebook/dp/B0B57JCW3S" target="_blank">The Art of Friendship</a>, will be free on Amazon November 17 - 20. It's a good time to catch up for anyone who hasn't finished the main series. The book will be available on other ebook platforms soon after. Another reason it's a good time to catch up. Now back to the short stories.</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Trevor's Turn</b></p><span> </span>It had been a long time since the door to Next Love had fooled Trevor. He knew the weight of it so well it didn’t even look heavy anymore. A voice that was also familiar called his name as he entered. Elaine Brachy waved to him and said, “I’ll be with you in just a minute.” <br /><span> </span>The middle-aged man who was talking to her seemed to take Trevor’s arrival as his cue to leave. He shook Elaine’s hand and said something about looking forward to the new table. <br /><span> </span>Trevor nodded at the man as he passed him. He was nervous about this mission and wanted to do it quickly so there was gratitude in the nod whether the man recognized it or not. Elaine met him partway. “Alison isn’t back from that estate sale yet, and I don’t expect her for a while. Has she texted you something different?” <br /><span> </span>“No, I… I’m here to see you,” Trevor said. “I want to ask for your help with something.” <br /><span> </span>“While Alison’s not here?” Her eyes glittered with excitement over what that might mean. <br /><span> </span>Trevor plowed ahead. “I have an idea on how to… I’d like to ask Alison to marry me.” <br /><span> </span>Elaine sucked in a huge breath and held it for a moment before she turned her head to the side and yelled, “Jim!” Her eyes hadn’t left Trevor. They stayed happy and maybe even a little happier after she startled him. She still enjoyed watching him squirm, but he still deserved it. <br /><span> </span>Alison’s dad poked his head out of the back room and looked around until he found his wife. <br /><span> </span>She motioned for him to come out and join them. <br /><span> </span>Trevor didn’t think they both needed to be involved. He did not voice that opinion. Elaine would probably tell Jim as soon as Trevor left if she didn’t tell him now. She didn’t even wait until he had gotten all that close. “He’s going to propose to Alison!” she announced. <br /><span> </span>Jim didn’t say anything. He acknowledged with a slight incline of his head that he’d heard. <br /><span> </span>Elaine rolled her eyes at the less than exuberant reaction and turned back to Trevor. “What do you want us to do?” <br /><span> </span>“I’d like her to find the ring in one of her hardware boxes while I’m here tomorrow,” Trevor explained. “I’d like you to help me figure out which one she’s gonna need and slip it inside before I get here.” <br /><span> </span>“Oh! Let me see it!” Elaine held out a hand. <br /><span> </span>Trevor guessed she meant the ring and carefully moved it from his pocket to her hand. <br /><span> </span>“Nice,” she said. “Is this a family ring?” <br /><span> </span>“No, it’s new.” It was a fairly delicate band with teeny diamonds inset all the way around. Alison wanted something practical and planned to slip a silicone band over it while she was working. Trevor hoped he picked the right one, and the approval in her mom’s eyes suggested it at least wasn’t awful. <br /><span> </span>Her dad didn’t seem all that curious. He was walking away. <br /><span> </span>“Let’s check out her work area,” Elaine said. <br /><span> </span>Trevor followed her as he resisted the urge to ask for the ring back. He intended to leave it with her so he might as well start trusting her with it. <br /><span> </span>Alison had a work area just outside the back room. They had to weave through some furniture to get there. A medium-sized dresser missing all its drawers was in the center of it. The dresser appeared freshly painted – smelled freshly painted – all white. There was probably more work to be done on it. There was a larger dresser nearby waiting to be stripped. It had no handles. <br /><span> </span>Jim didn’t go all the way to his sanctuary. He stopped in Alison’s space and slid open the top drawer on the larger piece. “She’ll want handles for this one,” he said. Alison always left handles in the top drawer once she’d chosen them. <br /><span> </span>“Okay,” Trevor said, “but what if she picks those out this afternoon or before I get here tomorrow?” <br /><span> </span>“What time will you be here?” Elaine asked. “Can you get here first thing?” <br /><span> </span>“I could. But if I’m here early, Alison will suspect something is up.” Trevor was not a morning person. And that was putting it lightly. <br /><span> </span>“Good point,” Elaine said. She wore a shrewd expression. “I’m sure we can shift something from Jim’s workload or come up with a reason something needs to be bumped ahead. I can time it so that still needs handles at noon tomorrow.” She rushed over and opened the plastic bin with handles. She used both hands, and Trevor didn’t know where the ring went. He was working on that trust. <br /><span> </span>She surveyed the contents of the bin. “I can hook it on one of these darker ones so the white gold will stand out.” As she closed the lid and returned to her feet, she appeared to read some uncertainty on Trevor’s face. “You want my help, and you’re getting my help. Don’t worry about a thing.”<div style="text-align: center;">----</div><div>To read the rest of the story, preorder the ebook: <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-art-of-proposing/id6443438021" target="_blank">Apple</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Proposing-Romance-Arts-ebook/dp/B0BFNPF2FW" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-art-of-proposing-amanda-hamm/1142281702?ean=2940165932489" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-art-of-proposing" target="_blank">Kobo</a>.</div>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-46770633457822516272022-10-20T08:58:00.002-04:002022-10-20T08:58:23.800-04:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqd0m8In9a_aJxigA6npXgNTnVNQrNy5P6aeW5vJ500HAHIDPZhj5bnYCGxgLUAgUlINXDUgWjlDBjKZKGoJFfCuXgGfjIoMZQVfY8bUzPHjtqahQlpGEx-H8E5Wb2TbH5OeGt3EC722C_b3qywocjumzmcmAxLRW0nkRgCZQQvd0TaEPM27PbK8iP/s3600/cover3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="2400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqd0m8In9a_aJxigA6npXgNTnVNQrNy5P6aeW5vJ500HAHIDPZhj5bnYCGxgLUAgUlINXDUgWjlDBjKZKGoJFfCuXgGfjIoMZQVfY8bUzPHjtqahQlpGEx-H8E5Wb2TbH5OeGt3EC722C_b3qywocjumzmcmAxLRW0nkRgCZQQvd0TaEPM27PbK8iP/w133-h200/cover3.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><p></p><br /><div>As promised last month, this is the first part of the second short story from <i>The Art of Proposing</i>. A preview of the next story will be sometime in November. When exactly? I guess that will be obvious when it shows up.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Cameron’s Turn</b></div><br /><span> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Katie got a face full of steam when
she opened the oven.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">The enticing aroma
had caused her to lean forward too quickly.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She stepped back as she pulled the door all the way down, then pulled
the pan out and set it on top of the stove.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She inhaled again. </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">The barbeque sauce
was tangy enough to tickle her nostrils.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">The kabobs looked delicious, just a hint of char on the edges.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">They also looked like more than she could
eat.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>She should have asked Cameron to
join her.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Maybe.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Something had been weird when they talked
about her plans for dinner.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">He’d been
duly impressed with the advancedness of using the broiler.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She couldn’t quite put her finger on why it
had sounded as though he didn’t want to be invited.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">He hadn’t actually said that.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>Katie grabbed a bagged salad from
her refrigerator.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">The meat was enough of
an adventure.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She frowned at the salad
that was also enough for two.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She could
wait a day and have the same meal again on Friday.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">It was always nice to have an easy dinner on
Tichu nights.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>Her phone rang as she was sitting
down to eat.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">It was probably
Cecelia.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She kept the ringer silent for
unknown numbers, and her sister was the gabbiest person she knew.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">It was a good guess.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Hey, Cecelia.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Hey.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Did I catch you after dinner?”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“I’m just starting,” Katie
said.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">“But I don’t mind talking while I
eat if you don’t mind me eating while we talk.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Sure.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">It’s kind of late for you though.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Something complicated tonight?”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Not complicated exactly.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">I had to let the meat soak in the, uh…”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“I’d say you were turning into a
real gourmet if you knew the word marinade,” Cecelia teased.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“It was on the tip of my tongue.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Is Cameron there?”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“No.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Not tonight.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Uh oh.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“There’s no uh oh,” Katie
said.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">“We don’t have to see each other </span><i style="text-indent: 0.4in;">every</i><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
night.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“It’s not uh oh that he’s not
there.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">It’s uh oh that you sound wistful
and defensive about it.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">What’s wrong?”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>Katie made a noise to indicate she
was chewing.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">She </span><i style="text-indent: 0.4in;">was</i><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> chewing and
congratulating herself on the flavor.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">But she was also buying herself a few moments to think.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Cecelia was easily her most drama-loving
sibling.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Katie had to be careful what
she said to her.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">This time, she’d
forgotten to be careful how she said it.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">There couldn’t have been more than the faintest whiff of
defensiveness.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">And Katie didn’t think
she sounded wistful at all.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">“Nothing’s
wrong,” she said.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“And now you sound more
defensive.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Why did you say you don’t
have to see each other every day as though… I don’t know, but I didn’t say
that.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>Katie took another bite.</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“You might as well tell me,”
Cecelia said.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">“The baby is already
asleep so I have lots of time to talk and bug you until you tell me.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Fine.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">But it’s really nothing.”</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">Katie paused for a quick sip of water.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">“I was talking to Cameron at lunch about what
I wanted to try for dinner.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">He said
something about how he hoped I would enjoy it.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;">I don’t remember his exact words, but something about the way he said it
sounded like he was preempting an invitation.”</span></div><div><span style="text-indent: 0.4in;"><span> </span>“Why would he do that?”</span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .4in;"><o:p></o:p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">----</div></div><div>To read the rest of the story, preorder the ebook: <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-art-of-proposing/id6443438021" target="_blank">Apple</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Proposing-Romance-Arts-ebook/dp/B0BFNPF2FW" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-art-of-proposing-amanda-hamm/1142281702?ean=2940165932489" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-art-of-proposing" target="_blank">Kobo</a>.</div></div>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-36797091383207673252022-09-20T10:42:00.000-04:002022-09-20T10:42:19.601-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOpwS74c1et1d3cBPnowwBxvfexvKEzC5i805AgfsVLvF_VuzfC4PWig7EdLW5FOEA7xx7UYaclyx0s1ejqS4xHfL6bKGaNtlWGWyzErC00wWwTy1Pl-9nizqg9O9waGagpYIhj667cAQ12vub6DSp7rEB_8U5_kxfaPV4tRf5WOqPc41nmSCKDbs/s3600/cover3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="2400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOpwS74c1et1d3cBPnowwBxvfexvKEzC5i805AgfsVLvF_VuzfC4PWig7EdLW5FOEA7xx7UYaclyx0s1ejqS4xHfL6bKGaNtlWGWyzErC00wWwTy1Pl-9nizqg9O9waGagpYIhj667cAQ12vub6DSp7rEB_8U5_kxfaPV4tRf5WOqPc41nmSCKDbs/w133-h200/cover3.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>As promised last month, this is the first part of the first short story from <i>The Art of Proposing</i>. A preview of the next story will be posted on October 20th. Don’t forget to check it out.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Logan’s Turn</b></div><br /><span> </span>Logan almost expected Violet to hand him a script when she opened the door.<br /><span> </span>She said, “Hi. Come on in.” There was nothing in her hands.<br /><span> </span>Logan followed her inside and closed out the chill. <br /><span> </span>She sat in the old armchair and nodded for him to pick a spot on the couch. It felt like a performance review. When those were obligatory and unhelpful. “So I’m not sure how much I should beat around the bush here,” Violet said. “What exactly did Audra tell you?” <br /><span> </span>“Too much,” Logan said. Audra had told him too much. <br /><span> </span>“She wants you to propose on Valentine’s Day.” <br /><span> </span>“Yes, I know.” He sounded more irritated than he’d intended. <br /><span> </span>Violet smiled understandingly. She knew it wasn’t directed at her. “I kind of thought sending you to me for advice was overkill, but I didn’t realize she’d already spelled it out so clearly.” <br /><span> </span>“You know Audra,” he said. Violet had been her best friend for almost five years. “She always spells things out more clearly than she thinks she does.” <br /><span> </span>Violet laughed. “You should’ve heard her trying to tell me how to casually slip in how she mentioned she was hoping for a proposal without saying that was the whole reason you were here. I mean, I gave you credit for knowing I wanted to talk to you because Audra told me to.” <br /><span> </span>He’d have felt a little weird about accepting an invitation to come over when Audra wasn’t home if he hadn’t known exactly what it was about, but knowing what it was about was the problem. “Since I am here, maybe you wouldn’t mind trying to offer some real advice?” <br /><span> </span>“I can try.” Violet looked interested but not eager, which made it easier to put her in the middle. <br /><span> </span>Not that Logan would have put her in the middle if Audra hadn’t already done it. He punched at the pillow next to him as he spoke. “This is what Audra said. She said, ‘You didn’t do it at Christmas. You didn’t do it on New Year’s or my birthday. I know you know what day is Monday.’ Then she moved on like she’d just dropped a little hint for me to ponder when I knew what she was saying even if she didn’t use the word propose and even before you wanted to talk about ‘something.’” <br /><span> </span>“Hmm. Now I’m wondering how Audra got to be so persuasive. I mean, we both knew this was unnecessary and yet here we are.” Violet motioned between them with a bemused expression, as though she was trying to remember how she’d agreed. <br /><span> </span>It was simple. Audra always tried to make other people happy, which made them want to return the favor. “I was already… I got the ring before Christmas,” Logan said. “But then I worried it was too soon after I…” He paused, not sure if Audra had told Violet about his accidental proposal and not wanting to go into it if she didn’t know. <br /><span> </span>“After you sort of accidentally proposed?” she supplied, not bothering to hide how funny she thought that was. <br /><span> </span>Audra had definitely told her. He nodded and continued. “I thought she’d want me to ask on a day that was already significant, but if it was too soon after the other thing, it might sound like a joke. Valentine’s Day is the last in a string so… But then she pointed that out. She told me when to do it and that she’s looking forward to being surprised. I can’t do both.”<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">----</div></div><div>To read the rest of the story, preorder the ebook on <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-art-of-proposing/id6443438021" target="_blank">Apple</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Proposing-Romance-Arts-ebook/dp/B0BFNPF2FW" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-art-of-proposing-amanda-hamm/1142281702?ean=2940165932489" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-art-of-proposing" target="_blank">Kobo</a>.</div><div><br /></div></div>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-29304849439531573592022-08-18T09:14:00.000-04:002022-08-25T10:35:02.305-04:00Bonus Content<p>Q<b>.</b> When was the last time you interviewed yourself?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. Are you sure I’ve done that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sounds a little crazy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. You definitely have.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. I’m not admitting anything except that I don’t remember
the last time.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. I think that means it’s time to do it again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t you?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. No.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. It’ll be fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People love your self-interviews.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. I don’t even know if self-interview is a real thing.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. It is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And people
love it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is an opportunity to
spread joy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. You’re going with spreading joy as the reason I need to
do this?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Don’t you want to spread joy?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. Go ahead and ask a question.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. When is your next book coming out?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. The Art of Friendship will be available very soon, on
August 27<sup>th</sup>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hey, that’s real
news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This interview thing was a great
idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s book four in the Romance
Arts series, right?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the last book in the series but not
quite the end of the series.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not the
end of the series?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That sounds like bigger
news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m writing a
collection of short stories, proposal stories, one for each of the four guys in
the books.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Proposal stories!?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Where and when can I read those?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. The first part of the first one will appear…<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Wait!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can I guess
who is going to propose first?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. You could, but I wouldn’t be able to say if you’re right
or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t want to spoil anything
if anyone else wants to guess.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. I’ll guess later then, but I think it might be the guy who
sort of almost proposed in the book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
were you saying about the first part of the first one?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. It’ll be posted right here September 20<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then in October, I’ll post the first part
of the second story.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. What about the rest of the first one!?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, this is
where some people might think I’m being a little mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to make you wait until
December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A sample of the third and
fourth stories will be posted in November and December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And right after that, just in time for
Christmas, the full collection will be available as an ebook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll provide links to make it easy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Can I guess what you’re calling this ebook?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. Sure.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Is it Four Amazing Proposals from Four Amazing Guys?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. Uh… that’s a little long and… Remember how the other
titles all start with The Art of?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Theme.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it going to be called The Art of Popping
the Question?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. I actually thought about that for about five
seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s too… not right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The collection will be called simply The Art of
Proposing.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. That would have been my next guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So when do we get to do this again?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>. Well, I did just explain how the posts are planned
through December.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Q. Cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More joy in
January?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A</b>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-53138239759844698772022-07-24T15:46:00.003-04:002022-07-24T17:02:31.327-04:00Quick Summer UpdateThe last Romance Arts book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Friendship-Romance-Arts-Book-ebook/dp/B0B57JCW3S" target="_blank">The Art of Friendship</a>, will be released on August 27th. A new book is always exciting. This time it’s also a little scary. I discovered a few continuity issues rather late in the game. Anyone who has read the earlier books knows the guys get together to play Tichu. (Fun fact: All the files for this series are still stored on my computer in a folder called Card Club Guys because that was the original subtitle.) They sometimes get distracted if the love interests come in when they’re playing, and they end up asking each other questions about the score or whose turn it is. Someone needs to know the answers to these questions. The writer needs to know the answers to these questions. <br /><br />I got it wrong at least once when a character told someone he just dealt when in fact he had not. At another point, a character pops up in a scene he never entered. Someone else specifically said there were six people shortly before he shows up as a seventh. Oops. Oops. Oops. For the record, other people read the book and missed those things so it wasn’t just me. <br /><br />Not that I’m trying to blame anyone. Whenever I have to go back and rewrite something, I run the risk of writing in typos and I thought I was past that point. The book will still be ready for release, just cutting it closer than I’d like. <br /><br />In other news, the CMA book awards were announced this month. I was very happy to see The Art of Introductions earned an Honorable Mention. Anyone who hasn’t started the series (I’m sorry you’ve been so busy.) can take advantage of a 99-cent <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08W9QJ22N" target="_blank">kindle copy</a>. But only until the end of July.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-89030916814707880952022-06-28T13:07:00.008-04:002024-01-22T11:41:33.485-05:00The Art of Making a CoverThe kindle version of the last Romance Arts book is now available for preorder. As usual, I rejected quite a few covers on the way to the one currently gracing <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Friendship-Romance-Arts-Book-ebook/dp/B0B57JCW3S/" target="_blank">The Art of Friendship</a>. A few of the ideas didn’t work out the way I pictured. And a few of the ideas were just bad ideas. I’m not above admitting I sometimes have bad ideas. I’m not even above making fun of my ideas.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPUg25d3-abaaF8f9WnP1Lo-kK2Yn0DMwJKQfLWX-GhQU884ril15d5dhtGFCtHYhX5Douh2or0Cxo8fT0E-MEVHmdcJJVhZ89Cbip_idbW56Gu_sw5uKk_cXVrDjjGky8c8PGqIzXU_UYqZObthuYznW0k4ocaPG3G2XqSjhA51RPTXo7ka__lR2N/s1600/blog1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPUg25d3-abaaF8f9WnP1Lo-kK2Yn0DMwJKQfLWX-GhQU884ril15d5dhtGFCtHYhX5Douh2or0Cxo8fT0E-MEVHmdcJJVhZ89Cbip_idbW56Gu_sw5uKk_cXVrDjjGky8c8PGqIzXU_UYqZObthuYznW0k4ocaPG3G2XqSjhA51RPTXo7ka__lR2N/w200-h150/blog1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Let’s start with the original picture. That’s Lake Erie, if anyone is curious. I think an Ohio resident could be inspired to paint a great lake. But how would she make it kooky? <br /><br />My first thought was a monster lurking beneath the surface, something the viewer wouldn’t notice right away. I pictured something a little like a giant catfish with all those creepy spikes coming out of its head. I knew there was a problem even while I was imagining the beast. I can’t draw. The graphics software I use doesn’t have a “sea monster” effect. It’s very old. It doesn’t even have a “magically blur the bad drawing into a murky creature” effect. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZp5O3mk7g551Wrcw_9snOik6lVtuLaus_ZSXmiS47ureOyCvcSf3cvTB0RB03XrdtNVesDeHoZ3cC8qQKC9k2kPaH9HRliOFDOQHH7OCZ1yQbxGPjczVchDao6X5UW8wWdXKW5j5-Ci-5EefqGa5O0DSTCTcZYfZr3dkBAmDfLTtkXydkst5R5C9/s1600/blog2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZp5O3mk7g551Wrcw_9snOik6lVtuLaus_ZSXmiS47ureOyCvcSf3cvTB0RB03XrdtNVesDeHoZ3cC8qQKC9k2kPaH9HRliOFDOQHH7OCZ1yQbxGPjczVchDao6X5UW8wWdXKW5j5-Ci-5EefqGa5O0DSTCTcZYfZr3dkBAmDfLTtkXydkst5R5C9/w200-h150/blog2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /> The best I could come up with was a little Nessie head poking out of the water. Anything popping out of the water is really good at drawing attention, which is a problem when the kooky isn’t supposed to be the first thing anyone notices. It was the first thing anyone noticed when I made it much smaller. It was still the first thing anyone noticed when I shifted the “painting” to include a big tree. Plus, Nessie is not what I wanted, not original, not feeling like something Audra would paint and… I eventually called that bad idea number one and moved on.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCtgNVBcXWNTGmCcebJL0_qK1aHjuZSveZoP4uPdNX-03m8XEORFKkJkxMMZ7wTz6lB25WEmITiEZZSmdD5jTVzB5qR1UFrH19h_Etk5J-Tqmi2dxFedFqUcEK6ZoOfxmqIT-9CXJLWJpVaQuR2xos5okvKIhl0yFDB-oRKqY3FqNvkFHgbudz2EM/s1600/blog3.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCtgNVBcXWNTGmCcebJL0_qK1aHjuZSveZoP4uPdNX-03m8XEORFKkJkxMMZ7wTz6lB25WEmITiEZZSmdD5jTVzB5qR1UFrH19h_Etk5J-Tqmi2dxFedFqUcEK6ZoOfxmqIT-9CXJLWJpVaQuR2xos5okvKIhl0yFDB-oRKqY3FqNvkFHgbudz2EM/w200-h150/blog3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Then I had an idea about tweaking the horizon, making it somehow unnaturally-shaped. I tried tilting it, which only looked like someone had tilted the painting. Yes. I should have seen that coming. I tried warping the horizon in a small section. That looked like an island. Is an island in Lake Erie kooky or original? No. God did that a long time ago. My best version was this odd jagged line. It’s… bad idea number two. <br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YE9wIqIKrIQgRAX6XfhseVQBzePKx3Lm2C6Fbx47aRe-y7a9vkk1iQeArKfoNFe2U4_Hj3wa4OcR4h03LBnUF82aWwHxNh5UIAMqcrfCgzsw37rnGZWPgTfVRjKb_7prR85vQ86zaylxzdnS_gWD5TsSzLJkCLsPyZaRFFNXolCen2Zq3pKFsxiX/s1600/blog4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YE9wIqIKrIQgRAX6XfhseVQBzePKx3Lm2C6Fbx47aRe-y7a9vkk1iQeArKfoNFe2U4_Hj3wa4OcR4h03LBnUF82aWwHxNh5UIAMqcrfCgzsw37rnGZWPgTfVRjKb_7prR85vQ86zaylxzdnS_gWD5TsSzLJkCLsPyZaRFFNXolCen2Zq3pKFsxiX/w200-h150/blog4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div>I tried to turn some rocks into music notes. My test audience thought they were weird birds. It’s only clear they are notes when zoomed in. Audra’s pictures are things that could appear in nature but don’t. I wish I’d remembered that before I spent I’m not going to tell anyone how long making note-shaped rocks that look like birds. <br /><br />Lightning on a clear day would be unexpected. And it was at least fun. I zapped different parts of the beach and kept changing the size and hue of the bolt. Some of my lightning looked awesome, but I couldn’t get any of it to blend, to fade into the rest of the scene. I asked myself how I could make the lightning more subtle. Obviously, it needed to be off in the distance. Where there might be clouds. That either ruined my idea or forced me to see that it was bad. Back to the drawing board regardless.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zCfX8f4Fs1yCb3IGCTZLpq2WmQ16XyTKFGECszxZFBzMGkxqYtcJLtWFCbEKaTA8ItZxvT8vKAxyR___xOysb-hrBp2GjcE19o4rrFOQkEzX0QP8UMd59pjdDxR3gGNtTROf2w7f-L5y34it1OlqF8Bli-ptVJxh3Dule_GS3qHXe2K8XJ4af5WM/s1596/blog5.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1596" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zCfX8f4Fs1yCb3IGCTZLpq2WmQ16XyTKFGECszxZFBzMGkxqYtcJLtWFCbEKaTA8ItZxvT8vKAxyR___xOysb-hrBp2GjcE19o4rrFOQkEzX0QP8UMd59pjdDxR3gGNtTROf2w7f-L5y34it1OlqF8Bli-ptVJxh3Dule_GS3qHXe2K8XJ4af5WM/w200-h151/blog5.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />For a while, I thought the sand on the shore was the key. I tried stacking it and adding ripples. Sand is pliable though. Everything I did just looked like someone was playing in the sand, which was exactly what I was doing in a digital sense. I returned to the water for the idea I used on the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-Friendship-Romance-Arts-Book-ebook/dp/B0B57JCW3S" target="_blank">final cover</a>. I think it was a good idea. I have a few of those, too. I hope readers agree.<br /><br /></div>Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-64361774987642985222022-05-26T10:28:00.002-04:002022-05-26T10:28:34.033-04:00I think I'll keep doing it wrong.The well was dry this month. I was scrambling to come up with a topic, and that caused me to do something rather desperate. I searched up author blogs to see what others had written recently. I hoped I could find an idea to “borrow” or perhaps mock in a friendly this guy was out of ideas, too, sort of way.<br /><br />What I found instead was a ton of advice for author blogs. I thought there might be a list of suggested topics somewhere in all that advice. No. Really no. There was only a long list of things I’m doing wrong. Here are some of the dos and don’ts I’ve been screwing up. <br /><br />1) <b>The most frequent advice for writing an author blog is don’t.</b> It’s about ten years too late for me to fix that. The reason I shouldn’t have started is that I won’t make money writing a blog. I never expected to make money doing this so I guess I was wrong about that, too. <br /><br />2) <b>If I write a blog anyway, I shouldn’t think of it as blogging.</b> I’m supposed to think of this as “online writing I do for free.” This way I always remember that I’m giving away something valuable here. The implication is that the goal of a blog is to inflate my ego. I’ve never been comfortable using blog as a verb so I generally think of this as writing a post. And it’s only one of the main goals I’m getting wrong. <br /><br />3) <b>The primary goal of my blog should be to drive traffic to my author website.</b> My blog <i>is</i> my author site. Another source specifically told me they should be the same so I thought this was one thing I actually had right. Now I’m even wrong about being right. <br /><br />4) <b>The primary goal of my blog should be to move readers to an email list.</b> Oops. I don’t even have an email list. My primary goal has always been that if someone reads one of my books and decides to look me up, there will be something here, maybe even something mildly interesting. But now that we’ve established that all of my motivation is wrong, let’s dive into the specifics I’m messing up. <br /><br />5) <b>Every title should be clickbait.</b> It is wrong to make titles match the content. My titles should hint at shock and life-changing information, no matter what. You won’t believe what I’m writing next! More books. I bet no one saw that coming. <br /><br />6) <b>Write a ton of repetitive stuff. </b> All of the advice about frequency suggests a number of posts per week, not per month. The quantity of my writing is apparently way more important than what I’m writing about. I was wrong the moment I tried to put some thought behind it. <br /><br />7) <b>Everything I write should be at a 3rd grade level because people are busy.</b> Why does having a lot to do lower intellect? I guess I’m too busy to understand this advice. <br /><br />8) <b>Every post should include at least one image.</b> I’m told the picture doesn’t have to be related. It only has to be colorful or attention-grabbing. My lack of pictures is so wrong. I didn’t know I was supposed to make people feel busy for not getting why there’s a pile of crayons next to a post about my next release date. <br /><br />9) <b>Don’t write about my writing process</b>. People don’t care about that. Some people don’t care to read romance. Maybe my fiction is wrong, too. <br /><br />10) <b>Write about my writing process.</b> Readers like “a peek behind the curtain.” I’m confused. <br /><br />11) <b>My writing process is only interesting to other writers.</b> Oh. Maybe. I’m still not sure this makes sense. <br /><br />12)<b> Do regular interviews with people who fascinate me. </b> Wait a minute. This is an actual topic suggestion. But when I make a list of people who fascinate me, it quickly becomes apparent that most of them have one thing in common. They’re dead. This puts me back to square one. I’ll worry about that next month.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3698893577436039343.post-4788779674693355862022-04-22T09:31:00.001-04:002022-04-22T09:31:52.123-04:00Trivia Time<p>For something a little different, I have an interactive post
this month. Try this little quiz to see
if you are a solid fan or if maybe it’s time to reread some of my books. <a href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1mBb5OZO1QDahRJusieJwaWwD4d_XsQeYCkdovq7NlvU/edit" target="_blank"> Follow this link to enter answers. </a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
1 - What is NOT kooky about one of Audra’s paintings in the Romance Arts series?<br />A) a face in a patch of wildflowers<br />B) a purple bee<br />C) corn in a wheat field<br />D) striped clouds<p class="MsoNormal">2 - When Owen tries to change the frosting color while making cookies with Gaby in <i>The Christmas Project</i>, what does she threaten to do if he tries again? <br />A) frost him<br />B) kick him out<br />C) not give him any cookies <br />D) write his name on the burnt ones</p>3 - Julia Dierksheide is the narrator of which book?<br />A) <i>The Christmas Project</i><br />B)<i> Everything Old </i><br />C) <i>By Its Cover </i><br />D) <i>Not Complicated </i><br /><br />4 - In which Coffee and Donuts book do the donuts go missing? <br />A) <i>Said and Unsaid </i><br />B) <i>A Perfectly Good Man </i><br />C) <i>Sofie Waits </i><br />D) all of the above <br /><br />5 - What does Daniel say he is willing to do for Molly in <i>Not Complicated</i>? <br />A) dunk his hands in lice water <br />B) walk through fire <br />C) yodel in front of strangers <br />D) wait in line at the DMV <br /><br />6 - Which book is the 2nd book in the Love in Andauk series? <br />A) <i>By Its Cover </i><br />B)<i> Into the Fire </i><br />C) <i>What Goes Around </i><br />D) <i>Everything Old </i><br /><br />7 - In <i>Said and Unsaid</i>, what does Alexa say would be a good name for a band? <br />A) Brilliant Hippo <br />B) Sparkly Alligator <br />C) Bald Monkey <br />D) Jumping Fleas <br /><br />8 - Which book is the 3rd book in the Coffee and Donut series? <br />A)<i> Said and Unsaid </i><br />B) <i>A Perfectly Good Man </i><br />C) <i>Not Complicated </i><br />D) <i>Sofie Waits </i><br /><br />9 - Angel Melling is the narrator of which book? <br />A) <i>Into the Fire </i><br />B) <i>The Art of Communication </i><br />C) <i>Sofie Waits </i><br />D) <i>Collecting Zebras </i><br /><br />10 - Where does everyone try to hide in Andauk? <br />A) Burger Brothers <br />B) St. Jude’s <br />C) Granny’s Shelf <br />D) Seymour’s Market <br /><br />11 - In <i>A Perfectly Good Man,</i> what is wrong with Heidi’s perfectly good remote? <br />A) battery cover is taped in place <br />B) the 5 doesn’t work <br />C) the 7 doesn’t work <br />D) a large crack on the side <br /><br />12 - Which book is the 1st book in the Stories From Hartford series? <br />A) <i>Jealousy & Yams </i><br />B) <i>The Christmas Project </i><br />C) <i>Andrew’s Key </i><br />D) <i>Collecting Zebras </i><br /><br />13 - In <i>They See a Family</i>, what does William’s young niece say he does badly? <br />A) bark like a dog <br />B) sing <br />C) pretend to be a person <br />D) pretend to chop wood <br /><br />14 - Whose house in Hartford is rumored to be haunted? <br />A) Andrew’s <br />B) Rebecca’s <br />C) Jill’s <br />D) Mabel’s <br /><br />15 - Which book is the 4th book in the Romance Arts series? <br />A) <i>The Art of Introductions </i><br />B) <i>The Art of Patience </i><br />C) <i>The Art of Communication </i><br />D) It doesn’t have an official title yet. <br /><br />0 – 3 correct: You probably don’t even remember what links you followed to end up at the quiz. <br /><br />4 – 7 correct: Maybe you’re a new fan and haven’t gotten through all the books yet. Keep reading. You can do it! <br /><br />8 – 11 correct: Either you got some lucky guesses or I should thank you again for reading. <br /><br />12 – 15 correct: You might know the books as well as I do. It means a lot that you’ve spent so much time with my work.Amanda Hammhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02107688436736765369noreply@blogger.com0