After spending so much energy writing a book,
I’ve sorta got nothing to show for it but a stack of paper.
If I had created a painting, I could stand back and admire it. If I had written a song, I could listen to it on my ipod.
It’s not like I can quickly read 300 pages for a warm-fuzzy at the start of each day.
But now I have a cover! Something I can SEE and ENJOY, even if I can’t listen to it.
Amy Konyndyk over at David C. Cook did an excellent job of portraying Ruthie Turner as sad, yet hopeful, reaching for the church.
What do you think?
Will people notice it in bookstores and libraries?
Don’t be misled by this nifty 3-D image, the actual book won’t be printed for months yet. *sigh*
I realize I’m showing my age with a title that includes a slant on the term “parking.”
(My twenty-three year old daughter didn’t completely understand it.)
However, this post isn’t about parking. It’s about sparking, which is different.
One Friday night long ago, my college roommate went out to eat with a good friend she had known several years.
At the end of the evening, the man leaned across the car and whispered in her ear,
“Do you want to go sparking?”
This caught her off guard.
Did he say sparking? Or parking?
And what did he mean by it anyway? They were friends. Nothing more.
He laughed at her expression. “Don’t worry. I said sparking not parking.”
“Of course,” she answered. (Still confused and possibly a teensy bit disappointed)
“You see it’s like this,” he explained with a chuckle. “When you bite Wint-o-green LifeSavers, they spark in your mouth. But you have to be in a really dark place to see it.”
“Seriously?” she asked excitedly. “Then let’s go to a dark place!”
(Not something she usually said on dates.)
Then they drove to a dark side street and giggled and sparked in the rear view mirror until curfew.
So if anyone ever asks if you want to go sparking, say,
While you’re waiting for that to happen, consider my book, Jaded, in which the heroine is posed with that exact question . . . by the local preacher!
I can’t wait for you to read it!
In the meantime, go buy some LifeSavers.
When I started writing five years ago, I thought long and hard about using a pen name. I settled on V.V. Denman. (Which isn’t truly a pseudonym since those are my for-real initials.)
It seemed like a great idea at the time.
Reason #1 – People have trouble with Varina and confuse Denman with Denham. But V.V. is super simple.
Reason #2 – Someday, I might be nauseatingly famous and desire a bit of anonymity.
Vanity check on that last one!
Let’s do the math:
Only a fraction of humans actually read books. Of those, a small percentage enjoy inspirational romance, and a mere handful will choose Jaded.
I’m pretty sure I’ll have enough anonymity to stay humble.
And when I asked my writer-people for their advice on real vs pseudo me?
“Varina is more personal.” “V.V. doesn’t suit the romance genre as well as Varina.” “It doesn’t really matter. Do whatever you want, girl!”
Problem is, I don’t know what I want.
So, I’m putting it to you. What do you think? V.V. or Varina?
The publishing industry remains a mystery to me, but one thing I do comprehend is that David C. Cook now owns my manuscript and has the right to slice and dice at will.
Sounds ominous, doesn’t it?
Actually this girl is THRILLED, because whatever the publisher changes will make the book stronger. After all, they know what they’re doing and I dont. Eek.
But for now, I’ve been notified they are keeping the title. (Jaded)
This is good news.
It instills confidence in my marketing because I won’t ever be forced to say . . . “You know that book I’ve been telling you about for three years? Yeah, well, just forget that title and try to remember this one.”
It’s official. You can go ahead and remember my title for reals.
What was it again?
Jaded [jey-did], adjective – dulled, worn out, wearied
Look for Jaded January 1 at a bookstore (or e-reader) near you.
(Unless the publisher changes the release and then you can forget that date and remember another one.) I’ll be in touch.
For a blurb about Jaded, click HERE.
Photo Credit: freedigitalphotos.net, Master Isolated Images
Unless you’re a native of west Texas, you probably don’t recognize this small town situated on the rolling plains just below the caprock escarpment of the Llano Estacado.
Why does this town interest me? It’s the camouflaged setting of my debut novel, Jaded.
I say “camouflaged” because I changed the name (to Trapp) and some of the specific details (like adding a grain elevator), but I kept the local charm and the geographic location.
Anybody care to guess the real name of this quaint town? If not, you can cheat HERE.
Side Note: If you’d like to read the first chapter of Jaded,
Sign-up for my newsletter, and I’ll send it your way.
Media Credit: Billy Hathorn
I’m exhausted most of the time.
Aren’t we all?
We work, usually at more than one job. We sign-up our kids for a bajillion activities. We feel compelled to participate in several ministries at church. And of course, we like our entertainment . . . which usually involves some sort of exertion.
It’s difficult to fit in time to rest. And even when we go to bed, we toss and turn, thinking about what needs to be done tomorrow.
Why not rest like God rests?
He only had seven days in the week, just like us. And even though He had WAY more to do, he still rested one day a week.
Let’s take a lesson from the Creator of the Universe, and give ourselves some down time. Not just from work, but from responsibilities.
Take an entire day off.
Sounds foreign (if not impossible), but let’s try it.
Pick a day. Any day.
Then stay home. Sit there. Hug the kids. Talk to the hubby. We’ll be worth more the next day when we hit the workforce at full speed.
By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Genesis 2:2 NIV
Bearcat Photo Credit: freedigitalphotos.net – Vichaya Kiatying-Angsulee