Monday, April 18, 2011
Omen and Giveaway
To celebrate the 100 of you, I’m hosting a giveaway. You see, I have a book (another anthology) coming out this May. I don’t have an exact date, so I’m hosting this contest from today to May 18th. One whole month! All you have to do is comment on my blog posts (any one of them) from now through May 18. The person who leaves the most comments will receive a copy of the book that’s coming out in May. Also, if you don’t want the book, I will offer you a choice of one full or partial manuscript critique (for those of you who are writers) for any one story you’ve written. It can be any genre!
Here’s a little more about the book that’s coming out (in case you do want the book):
Master of Mine, BDSM Anthology.
Taken For Pleasure by Angelina Rain
Duncan Morrison is shocked when he hears of the lies his soon-to-be ex-wife is spreading over town. How can he date and celebrate his new single status when every single woman is under the impression that he’s only two inches long and riddled with STD’s? Duncan has every intention of teaching her a lesson… in bed. <---- I think this is one of the best short stories I’ve ever written!
Now on to today’s post. Omens.
I used to write when I was a teen. I would write angst-filled teen dramas and horror stories. I would write sad poetry of loves lost and hearts broken. But, as soon as the real world came calling, I gave the writing up.
It wasn’t until late 2009 that I decided to try and write something… Anything. My first story was supposed to be just a practice story. It was an experiment to see if I could actually finish writing something.
Midway through the writing process, I started thinking what if I could publish this. Sure, the idea of submitting your first ms and getting a contract on it is rare, but possible. What if….
So I edited the first three chapters of my ms, wrote a query and a synopsis, and sent it out to a press that only wanted a partial. Ultimately, they liked the idea, but noticed problem areas like head hopping (which I later edited out) and suggested that I rewrite and resubmit.
That gave me the inspiration I needed to finish writing that story. I wrote it quickly until I finished it, and as soon as I was ready to edit, my computer broke down. I took it to a repair guy, who fixed the problem within a few days but when I got my computer back, all my books and my ms were gone. My computer also worked worse and made scary sounds after the repairs.
Yes, I cried.
This book wasn’t meant to be published. That was the omen behind it, right? The critical part of my brain reasoned with me by telling me that maybe this book wasn’t supposed to be my ticket in.
I went to a few different computer technicians asking if they could extract a lost file. Some said yes, others said no, but the price tag attached to the extraction was higher than I could afford.
Maybe my critical mind was right. Maybe this was an omen telling me the book really shouldn’t get published.
I had almost given up when my mother called me and gave me the name of a computer technician who’s a friend of a friend and will get the job done cheaper. I took my computer to him, and within a few days, he had my book on a disc and diagnosed my computer with some fatal problems. He told me I should just buy a new one as fixing this one would cost me more.
Until I got a new computer, I did all my editing at my mother’s house. Then, I was ready to submit. I should have submitted to the publisher who asked for the revisions, but I didn’t know much about them and instead I submitted to someone else. Now looking back, I realize that I had a chance to publish with a really well known publisher and instead chose a lesser known press.
Now as I’m editing that book, I start to hate my story more and more. In some ways, the story has gotten better. In other way, I feel like it’s gotten worse. All in all, I wonder if the omen was right. Maybe I should have just put this story aside, given up on extracting it, and not even attempt to publish it. And now, as I look back, I realize that the story I once thought the world of, now I see as nothing more than a written mistake.