Status

 

 

“Chance means nothing. Fate means nothing. In fact the two are sisters, holding out a snare for anyone who would listen to their beautiful words. Choice is what decides what will become of us, of you. Read a prophesy or listen to a great foretelling until the words are seared into your soul. It matters not. Only when you decide to go one way or the other, and only when you choose to live…

…this way…or that, do things start to happen.”

Excerpt from The Stories: Book One Genesis

New blog post entitled “Duality” coming this week. Please stay tuned!

 

 

 

Word.

A Quick Look At A Small Part Of Any Writers Day

The writer sits at his desk and opens up his word doc. He cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders a few times. He sighs and looks at the screen.
“Okay,” he says. “Here we go.” The writer takes a sip of his coffee and stares at the screen again, for what seems like hours.
He exhales and looks to his left. “I don’t like you,” he says to Doubt, who’s sitting next to him, smiling.

 

Doubt. Five letters. Extremely powerful, if we let it. Give a writer 26 letters and he will create worlds never before imagined.

Kick doubt in the arse and write.

Word.

And Now For Something A Little Different

NaNoWriMo. 

National Novel Writing Month, am I right?

I wish all of you writers seeking to destroy, nay annihilate, that NaNo Monster one word at a time, the very best. You got this. If you want this. I’m right there with you.

But this post I would like to share something that indeed has much to do with the fact that we sit for long periods of time, doing what we love to do. Writing. I speak of the fact that we writers, again, for periods of time that vary greatly in length are in a stationary position 100% of the that time. We also tend to drink coffee-duh-sodas and as many of you say nosh on various good, e.g, candy, popcorn, Mr. Goodbar’s…sheesh I’m getting hungry just typing about it.

SEE?

These are symptoms. The diagnoses? Writers. 

Steps To Survive A Horror Movie

See that dark house coming closer and closer? Yeah. That’s Halloween approaching and in the spirit of the holiday I share with you the following. Recently, well actually very recently, The Twitter unleashed the hashtag, #StepsToSurviveAHorrorMovie and lemme tell you, it went off. So did I. Then a few of mine were in the top tweets for a few moments (there were so many!) and it quickly became a country wide top trending topic. I’ve decided to share a few of mine.

Note: These are all original from the mind of me.

Here’s how it all went down.

Be. A. Badass a.k.a. BE. BRUCE CAMPBELL.#StepsToSuviveAHorrorMovie

Do not fear death.

My horror writing peeps seriously need to get in on this! and teach these kids some #stepstosurviveahorrormovie

DON’T do the deed outside. For cryin’ out loud-get a room…in the city.

Don’t think your kindness will win the killer over. Look what happened to Machete in the Halloween remake.

Karly Kirkpatrick: No

Karly, one of the founding Authors of DarkSide Publishing writes a powerful post about a simple and yes teeny tiny word.

For being such a teeny tiny word, NO can be a very powerful one. This applies not only to writers, but also to many aspects of life. For a lot of people, NO is an end point. Once they’ve been told NO, dreams are shattered and paths can be ended. In the publishing world, most of us have been told NO numerous times, more than we can count sometimes. We’ve been told no by agents and editors for the most part, and hey, we can even count those critique partners, although their NOs are meant to help us.

What is important is that we look at NO not as an endpoint. Consider it a challenge. If you get a string of NO’s on a manuscript from agencies, analyze them. If they were straight up form letters, maybe your query needs some work, maybe your manuscript could use another edit or a fresh set of eyes.

Genevieve Ching: Faith in Fiction

 Darkside Publishing Authors Week continues today, #WriterWednesday, with G.P. Ching!

A few years ago, I described The Soulkeepers to a fellow writer like this: An atheist teen comes to believe in God when he discovers he is genetically gifted to fight fallen angels. His reaction was to say he hoped I had a bulletproof vest.

I knew when I published The Soulkeepers that the theme of faith & spirituality mixed with the paranormal would limit my audience. According to a recent Pew Research Center Study, atheism is growing among young people faster than any other demographic, with an estimated 25% in this group claiming they have no specific faith. And on the other side of things, this months Thriving Family magazine points the finger at paranormal entertainment for introducing the occult to children. 

Rapping, Rapping At My Door.

I kept waking up last night, shivering. The shadows on the wall danced but…they weren’t happy. I heard something outside of the window and hesitated to look. I took a deep breath, got over it and looked. Nothing but the juniper tree hitting against it.

Shew.

I decided to grab a snack, something small not too heavy. It was 3:33 in the morning after all! I wrapped my robe and scarf tight-it was cold out and the air was creeping in.

I ate my snack and exhaled. “Everything’s good,” I convinced myself then headed back to sleep…and then…I heard a knock at the front door. I opened my eyes and stared at the roof. “Are you kidding me?”
“Who’s there?,” I whispered and swallowed hard.
Silence for a minute or two. Then the tree began tapping the window. Good grief.

Then the knock started again. The rapping made my heart jump!
I had to answer so I jumped up without thinking, casting off the fear like my robe just a few minutes earlier.
I darted for the door and asked loudly, “Who is it! It’s 4:00 in the morning!”
Silence.

Then the rapping continued…and stopped suddenly.

Why, oh why did I pick this cottage deep in the forest as a suitable place to live? I wondered.
I mustered the courage and told myself I was clearly delusional. Obviously from the lack of sleep. I thought of Poe for some reason and smiled. Enough of this, I thought to myself and started for the room-and the knock got louder. My eyes grew several inches in size and I turned, angry now, and opened the door.
“WHAT?” I yelled.
But there was no one there. I breathed in and out and looked to my feet. The October Issue of Underneath The Juniper Tree was resting on the ground. I stepped out and looked through the trees. But no one was out. The cold air brushed my air and I swear I heard an eerie laughter in it. I bent down to grab the issue just it began to rain. “Great,” I grumbled.
I didn’t see the figure with the pumpkin for a head behind me, in my own house…’til it was too late.

Read the October Issue, out now!

What Say…Me?

The following vid is one I cooked up for Heather Reese, MC of the very cool Blogger Idol. See, a while back I created the Twitter hash tag #WritersAreTheNewRockStars and she ran with that and created an entire contest and really put all of herself in it. So I applaud and commend Heather for that and give a most sincere “you’re awesome” to all of the contestants. Writers.

Congrats to Mama Spaghetti for your triumph! You are truly a writer.

To all of my Fellow Writers…write on!!!

For those about to rock…writers are the new rock stars.

thwip!

When I say, “I’m A Writer”…I Mean It.

A girl in a red cloak…running. Sounds simple enough, right? It was…or at least I thought it was. She wouldn’t leave me alone.

She screamed, “Tymothy…you write!?”

Surprised, I answered her. “Uhh, yeah sort of. I mean I have ideas…but…”

“Shut up!” she interrupted. “Listen! You hear that?” she asked me.

I looked behind her towards the darkness and yes…as I focused on the muted grumbling in the distance it became quite clear what I was hearing. Blood lust. 

“Alright!” she yelled. “We don’t have a lot of time! Come on!” she grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the oncoming thunderous sound of…wolves.

“Are those?” I began.

“Yes! You write?”

“I told you, sort of!”

“Not good enough! Do it!” she was growing more impatient and for obvious reasons. She left my side and jumped high into the trees. “The stories! They’ll come to you! Write about us!” she cried then disappeared. 

As I stared at the last spot she stood the wolves drew in closer. They looked surprised to see me but they salivated none the less. 

“Boy…you mind tellin’ us ‘oo you is?” one of the enormous creatures asked.

“Where’s the…the girl?” snapped another.

As I looked at them and their various razor-lined teeth…it hit me.

I looked at my left-hand and saw a pen. I clutched it tightly and lifted my head to them. They realized who I was and they cowered in their fur. “It’s…it’s the Writer!” one of the wolves yelled in dismay.

“Yeah,” I began, “and you guys are in trouble.”

My love of God, comic books, graphic novels, Del Toro, arte, music! and all things nerd and geek and in between inspire me.

Hey everybody. Thanksa for stopping by. I’d like to invite you all quickly(or my definition of quickly) on a brief trip back in time a few years. *calibrating the Time Clock and waiting on Doc to refuel the DeLorean. What? I don’t have a Delorian? Doc’s not real?

…

…

Okay. Well, slight technical difficulty. But nothing we can’t work past, write?

A few years ago, I left the small town I was living in after working seven years as a Corrections Officer in a max. unit penitentiary. It was…difficult to say the least. But I kept my head up and stayed strong, believing my faith and believing deeper in the One I had faith in through it all. We started all over and I quickly learned my entirely new trade. It was night and day coming from corrections into manufacturing. Thank you, my brother for getting me that job. I was happy. I enjoyed creating, working with my hands in ways I had never done.  Then on what would be considered any typical wedding anniversary-my wife and you all will get what I mean..I hope-I decided to surprise my wife, Jennifer, my inspiration numera una- with a “story” written just for her. It was about a robot, me, who was unhappy. He felt lost. Unsure. He seeks out in search of life and laughter and finds his true friend, a flower, the wife. I called it The Sad Little Robot. I shared it on Myspace for a few hours and it garnered a lot of hits and one comment from a lyricist/writer friend of mine, my age, read: “This is so awesome!”

I was thrilled. The views and comments were very appreciated. But I was happy I wrote it. An original story just for my wife. I created this. See before, I had written some poetry, I am very proud of it…but that was the brunt of my writing. I never imagined writing would be something I would do for more than just a hobby. Because I did enjoy it. Robut was the first “real” thing I had written. There is a scripture in the bible that says, “The gifts and calling of God cannot be taken away.” YOU’RE TELLING ME!!!

You see shortly after writing Robut, I got ideas for so. many. other. books. Ideas pulled from all the things I had learned in my years in church and from all of the mentors I had in my life. Non-fiction type stuff. God had never spoken so clear than this time in my life and then…I saw the above play out as clear as day.

See. I’m the Writer of The Stories. It’s been over a year. Since then, I have been on Facebook, Twitter, here, New Authors Fellowship, biblical based Ministries on Facebook that I am blessed to be a part of. In addition…I have made and come to know some of the most kind, supportive, brilliant and talented Writers, (self-pubbed, Indie-pubbed and traditionally-pubbed) and I have been most blessed by them all. I have been blessed to be able to write Guest posts and have had the pleasure of being interviewed. I’m still like-WHAAAT? Ya know.

But before, during and after all of that-there is a book. The first book in a series. The book that I knew I would go traditional with. The one I would query. That one I stared at some days and the one I created a fire under on most. See one thing is I never hated writing it. Never. I am happy to share that. I have inspired, thank you all, and have been inspired. I am grateful and humbled constantly.

Back to that whole query thing. I did it. I sent mine out. And you know what? I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be. (Call me on that bull some other time, will ya? ;})

Thing is…I never quit. I never stopped believing. When I stood outside that day and saw that truck pass by with the name Tim Lowder on it…I never looked back.

Guess what and praise God-it paid off. Because as of Friday, 9/9/2011-I am, an agented #writer. 

Her name is Bree Ogden* of D4EO Literay Agency And as my very epic friend Dawny says: We were meant to find each other.

This I believe because I do not believe in coincidences.

This is only the next step, albeit a HUGE step for me and I am extremely blessed and grateful to Bree. But this is the next step. Work follows…and I know, truly…The Stories is COMING.

Writers are the new rock stars. I send you #writerlove and doff my hat to you all.

You can do this. When I say I’m a writer…I mean it.

No matter your path…you can do this!

Beesler, Allie, Michele Shaw, Dawny, Mowery, River, Michelle Pic, My BNFF’s, Morgan, Leigh, Tiffany K!, TL, My Bros, Jamie and Twisters in the #YASB, My Fellow #7DSers, Alexia Purdy, Leighton, Milligan, Cribbs, Joseph, Diane Graham, K. Newsome, Ralene, Enamored, Deb, SmashAttack!, @ifollowthenight…I love and thank you all-all of you, ALL-for everything.

WORD.

If you say you can’t you probably won’t…so don’t do that.

*Check out Bree. She is the absolute coolest. Oh, there’s more to come on Aspire No More. I give you my, “Word.”

|m|

The Stories: Book One, “Genesis” Excerpt and Five-Star Review Here: http://allieburke.blogspot.com/2011/09/writer-wednesday-stories-book-one.html

Short SHORT Stories for UTJT

More of my submissions to Underneath The Juniper Tree‘s Twitter #under140story palooza-rama-bonanza!!!

Their September issue kicks off TODAY!

• I stared into the eyes of the beast. They were cold but burning red. I vowed to be the last thing those eyes would ever see.

• Roses are red, violets are blue. If I put this blade through your heart…well what color would you turn?

• Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. And children, thanks be to his very big fall…we can all eat today! Scrambled or over easy?” 

     

Jack jumped back when Jill attacked...and the knife laid perfectly still.

• Jack and Jill went up a hill…and saw who they wished to eagerly, kill. The end.

• “Little red riding hood you sure are looking good. You’re everything a big bad wolf…could kill,” the evil beast whispered.

• I ran and I ran until my heart nearly failed me. Then I reached my destination. Slowly I reached for the words, “The End.”

• He lifted the quill and blood fell. “Have you ever tried to write in blood? It’s hard. It drips.” The Stories: Book Two ‘The Bridge’ #wiplines 

• “A man who sacrifices his life for another-great reward follows him in the afterlife,” he said. Then he pulled his gun on me.

• I awoke alone. In silence. The blood on my hands was still warm. 

I love to write. Word.

thwip!

Shelley.

Mary Godwin.

She created perhaps one of the best known characters of literature. One that would live forever and be told again and again. One that would inspire countless writers and even more debates of the meaning behind it all.

Frankenstein.

She is better known…as Mary Shelley.

She got the idea in a dream. I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.

Welcome, Kat Deacon!

Hello everybody!! Allow me to introduce myself…my name is Kat Deacon and I write YA Paranormal. My first release came out this week and I’m here to share it with you! My novella The Gift is available now at www.etreasurespublishing.com. As a way of thanking everyone for coming, I’d like to give a copy of my book to two lucky people who leave a comment. So feel free to comment as much as you want. Also if you have any questions at all I am more than willing to answer the best I can. Just don’t ask me for any kind of math help. I suck at math…honest!

I’ll tell you a little bit about myself.

Tales Of Writer Fails.

“How do you spell inanimate?”
“I-n-a-n-i-m-a-t-e.”
*taptaptap “Cool, how do you spell moribund?”
“Uh, m-o-r-i-b-u-n-d.”
“Okay.” *taptaptap. “Got it! Uh, dude?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you spell morose?”
“Dude. M-o-r…wait you’re a writer, right?”
“Right.”
“M-o-r-e-r-o-z-e.”
“Thanks dude! I have a new vampire story that takes place in the year 2045 and an Egyptian warrior has to find a signet ring to stop the invading zombie army, but only after he takes unicorn horn shavings and places them under his tongue! This is going to be such a best-seller!”

“*!”

Now. Hear me. I am not making fun of people who have a hard time with spelling. No way. I’m sure at least ONE writer in the history of writing has been a bad speller. this is my attmept at humor for my fellow escritores. A brilliant idea and a flawless voice are a blessing but remember the technical parts of writing matter a LOT. You do kinda have to have a grasp of decent grammar and spelling to write. I mean…first impressions can lead to a huge book deal, right? But also for Indies, they respect what they do. Do your best!

I’M AMSOME.

Word.

Through Innocent Eyes

I see the world through innocent eyes.

With no judgment, no bitterness, no blame.

Eyes that see the people all around me, different, yet one in the same.

Colors are crayons, not shades of skin to me.

If you could see through my eyes what things would you see?

I know you’d see fun and life and love-all free.

If I saw things through yours, what would they be?

Hate, pain, sadness or sorrow? Or a brighter future for me and you…I’m thinking about tomorrow.

Thinking about tomorrow makes me think of things I’ll do. Learn a new letter, word, or number, where’s, what’s and why’s….

…and continue to see the world through innocent eyes.

 

Children are taught, they are shown hate and prejudice. Let’s stop this. Let’s put an end to bullying and intolerance.

 

“Come to Me,” He said…with no prerequisites, no motives, unconditionally, ignorant of judgement, hate, etc…
Embrace EACH OTHER like this…its not that hard.

Let It Go. (I’m Alright.)

Years and years ago…I was blessed. I was blessed to be able to find my literal voice and I began singing in the church I was going to. I was 16. Man…memories of singing for God. My friends and I always played music together and had dreams of starting a band. Then we said, “Dream? Let’s do it.” Then? God moved and I met a brother in Christ who led us to an opportunity to record a “demo.”

We had written an entire set and played around town in churches, then we were blessed to play to bigger audiences. 400 is none to shabby. ;}.

Back to recording. The first time we “wrote” and played the track here was literally the night before. A jam session turned into this and the next day it was what it was. I am tremendously honored and blessed to have been able to do this back then. I am a writer and I am also a singer at heart.

The song is called Let It Go. Final scream courtesy of your friendly neighborhood writer-man.

 

 

Some go through lifes various changes, learn from them become stronger…and somehow deep inside we are still unsure if and how we will make it.
I’ts called doubt.
It’s called anxiety.

Don’t worry.
You are stronger than you yourself know.
He knows.
You will make it.
You already know what has been said…
What doesn’t kill you…

…had better run as fast as hell!
Chase that mother down, go after it, climb that mountain..
Make it your *ahem* bit%h!!!

You were destined to have a hope and a purpose. He said so…and I trust Him.

 

 

• Aspire. 
• No. 
• More.