ali cross

going ninja

2012-05-19T15:22:00.000-06:00

lucky you! elle strauss has a new book!

2012-05-17T05:00:00.000-06:00

I love new books and books by friends? Even better! Elle Strauss wrote CLOCKWISE and CLOCKWISER--she has an easy to read, fresh style that I think appeals to all readers. I certainly love them! Can't wait to read her latest book, a companion novel, LIKE CLOCKWORK.

To entice you more, here's some info and an excerpt! Yay!

Adeline doesn't feel she belongs in her own time, but can bad boys from the past be trusted?

Adeline Savoy had hoped that the move west from Cambridge to Hollywood with her single dad would mean they’d finally bond like a real family, but all she got was a father too busy with his new female friends and his passion for acting to really see her.

Instead she finds herself getting attached to Faye, the divorcee hair dresser she befriends when she travels back in time to 1955. Plus Faye has a hottie, James Dean-esque, bad-boy brother who has Adeline’s heart all aflutter. But bad boys from the past can be dangerous. Is it possible that Adeline really does belong in her own time and that maybe the right boy lives as close as next door?

LIKE CLOCKWORK is available now at Amazon and Smashwords for B&N, ibooks and other e-book retailers.

Read on to sample the first chapter:

Chapter One

Adeline Savoy

My dad still thought I was ten. That was how old I was when my mother died, and how old I was when my father crawled into his “cave,” also known as his office on the 26th floor of the John Hancock tower. Six years later, like a bear coming out of hibernation, Dad decided his days of hiding behind a desk were over. I thought he was going through a mid-life crisis, which was why we now lived in Hollywood instead of Cambridge. And why when I spotted his reflection in a mirror at the cosmetic counter in the Shop & Save store, I almost dropped the Scarlet Passion lipstick tester I'd just smeared on my lips.

Even though I was sixteen, I wasn't allowed to wear make-up. True. With my left hand I used a tissue to wipe the evidence off my mouth, all the while watching my dad’s familiar profile move in and out of range in the mirror.

He was laughing. I crouched down and turned, my vision just missing the counter top, and watched. His hair had grown out since the “decision.” He used to always keep it so short, that I didn’t even know it was wavy before, and the lines on his face never used to turn upward in a smile.
I had to see who was causing this cosmic reaction in my father. The clerk who sold cheap jewelry, a pretty-in-a-fake way brunette, tilted her head and giggled back.

My jaw dropped and something really strange started happening in my stomach. I felt a little sick because I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. My dad was flirting!

Who was this man dressed in khakis, flip-flops and an un-tucked pseudo Hawaiian shirt? My real dad only wore pinstriped suits with starchy white shirts and a blue tie. Always. Even to bed, I was certain.

“Miss? Are you all right?” The cosmetic clerk was armed with a spray nozzle cleaner in one hand and a paper towel in the other.

I mimed as best I could, “ssh”, but apparently dad was the only one with acting skills in my family, since she wouldn’t leave me alone.

“Miss? You don’t look too good. Should I call for medical?”

The fake pretty lady stopped chatting when she heard her colleague talking so loudly. Obviously, that meant my dad’s little flirtation episode was over. And of course, my blonde ponytail was a giveaway.

“Adeline?” he said.

“Dad!” I jumped up, feigning surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

What are you doing here? I thought. “Um nothing, just looking. Thought I might buy some gum.”

Dad glanced back at the fake and I did a quick switcheroo, replacing the tester and grabbing a sealed golden tube. It tucked nicely in my fist as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Adeline, come here,” Dad said. “I want you to meet someone.”

My legs moved toward dad and the fake without my permission.

“Adeline, this is my friend from acting class, Spring. Spring, this is my daughter, Adeline.”

Spring extended her hand. Unfortunately, the contraband lipstick was in my right hand. I wasn’t a magician. Dad would notice if I tried to switch. I opted for the awkward offering of my left hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Spring gushed.

“Same,” I said, not meaning it at all. “Not that I don’t want to stay and chat,” I added quickly, before Dad could draw us into more forced intimacies, “but I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Dad said. But he wasn’t looking at me; he was smiling at the fake.

“It’s okay, Dad. I’ll meet you at home.” I strutted across the floor to the cashier. He glanced back at me as I stood in line at the register. I waved the pack of gum in the air. I paid for it and the lipstick while Dad and the fake went back to making googly eyes.

I snapped the gum in my mouth while caressing the lipstick tube in my hand. It was encased in a plastic protective seal, a perforated strip running the length of it like a zipper. My thumb picked at the rim. All I had to do was rip it open and it would no longer be returnable.

But I really should return it. I’d promised myself I’d give up the greasy lip habit when we moved. It was a chance to start over, do everything new, and be a proper daughter with a proper father.

Hrumph. Like that was turning out. Dad wasn't exactly holding up his end of the bargain.

My breaths came out short and rapid, like a panting dog. I didn’t realize how fast I’d been walking. I’d hardly taken in the tall palm trees that lined the road or the sweet smell of tropical flowers I didn’t know the names of.

No signs of autumn in sight. In Cambridge the leaves would be showing signs of turning color, bright reds and yellows. A little twist in my stomach. I was homesick.

And angry.

He was supposed to change, but not like that. He was supposed to notice me, spend time with me, not some flake called Spring. What kind of name was that anyway? It sounded like a made up actress name. Her last name was probably Storm or Wind. My thumb picked the plastic a bit more.

“Hi, there.”

I turned my head. Some guy riding a pink bike with a sparkly white banana seat and matching tassels that hung off tall, wide handle bars slowed down to keep pace with me.

“Hi,” he said again. This time there was no mistaking he was talking to me.

“Hi?” I said, not slowing down at all to do so. I may be entering my junior year, but I still didn’t talk to strangers. Janice, my babysitter/pseudo mom in Cambridge, had drilled that lesson into me good.

“My name's Marco. I live next door to you.”

Okay. I slowed a little. “Why are you riding a girl’s bike?” Did he steal it? Why didn’t he care about how stupid it made him look?

“It’s my sister’s. I sold mine to buy something else, but riding this is better than walking.”

“I’m walking and you’re not making any better time than me.” I was annoyed. Why didn’t he just keep going? I preferred to sulk alone.

“You’re new, so I thought with school starting tomorrow, you’d like someone to ride the bus with.”

Good point. Who knew what kinds of Hollywood weirdos would be on the bus? I looked Marco up and down. He was average height, shaggy hair, and wore a graphic t-shirt and surfer shorts with fat, loosely tied skate shoes on his feet. No socks. He had nice, tanned skin and warm brown eyes that squinted to almost close when he smiled. He wasn’t hard to look at.

And he looked trustworthy enough, I guessed. Plus, he was right. I didn’t really want to go to Hollywood High alone.

I stopped and turned to him. “I’m Adeline Savoy.” I wiped the sweat on my right hand off on my skirt—sky blue, slightly flared and to my knees—and offered it wanting to start my new friendship off on the right foot.

“Cool,” Marco said as we shook. “You like to make things official. I like that.”

The sun must’ve glinted off the gold tube in my other hand because Marco nodded toward it. “What’ya got there?”

“Oh, it’s just lipstick. I bought it, but now I’m not sure. I might take it back.”

“I don’t know why girls wear that vile stuff,” he said. I was surprised by the strength of his statement.

“It makes us feel good. Pretty. What’s wrong with that?”

“For one thing, you’re already pretty without it.”

He thought I was pretty?

“Besides,” he continued, “it’s made out of horse urine.”

“It is not! That’s so gross.”

“It is. That’s why it has that sticky consistency. Have you ever seen dried urine around a toilet?”

“You’re disgusting! How would you know about lipstick, anyway?”

“I have three sisters, though one is only six years old and hasn’t discovered the evils of make-up and this culture’s drive to sexualize young girls. It’s too late for my older sisters, but you can still be saved.”

Who was this guy? And how did he get off talking to me like that? He didn’t even know me. I felt my lips settle into a tight line and my pace picked up.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

How long was he going to walk with me? “Where did you say you lived?”

“Right next door to you.”

“Right next door?” This annoying person, who happened to be my only friend, lived right next door?

“Yeah, the two storey. My bedroom window faces yours.”

“You see in my window!”

“No. I don’t…” His face flushed red.

“You do, you do look in. You peeping Tom!”

“Adeline, I didn’t see anything. I just heard your music.”

“Huh?” I stopped and spun to face him.

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And your singing.”

“What?” I was mortified. He probably heard me singing along to Feist, or even worse, he saw me doing my Michael Jackson impersonation. I bet he saw me doing the Thriller dance the other night. Ugh!

“Everyone can hear you. You have your window open.”

“You know what? Don’t talk to me.”

Marco seemed truly taken aback, and yet he didn’t get the hint. Not even one as direct as that. He was not only a peeper, but he was dense, too.

“I live in a house full of women. Three sisters and a mother. I get what’s going on here. It’s PMS, isn’t it?”

Was he kidding me? As if I would talk about something like that with him! I stopped and stared hard into his eyes. I produced my new tube of lipstick and slowly peeled the perforated strip, letting the plastic wrapper drop to the ground. I dramatically popped off the lid and twisted the base until the bright red dried horse urine was in full view.

Then I put it on my lips, slowly, purposefully, first the top and then the bottom, smacking them in Marco’s direction when I was done.

Take that, Mr. I Know Women.

Marco bent down, picked up the plastic wrapper and pushed it in his pocket. He straddled the bike and pushed off, turning back long enough to say, “I’ll pick you up at 8:10 tomorrow morning for school.”

Argh.

novel ninja amy mcbay!

2012-05-11T05:00:00.000-06:00

Today kicks off the beginning of the new and improved Narley Ninja feature! It's been renamed to the more appropriate Novel Ninja and is held simultaneously here and at the dojo. The goal of the Novel Ninja is to introduce you to up and coming writers and to learn a little something about them--whatever they want to tell us.

And how awesome we get to start the Novel Ninjas with our very own Amy McBay!

♥ ♥

Why write wolves? I love them. I’ve had dreams of wolves all my life, and usually the same black wolf with a little white patch on her chest. I’ve always had a very vivid imagination. It wasn’t until I was pregnant with my now two year old that I started writing her adventures down, and turning them into a novel. Most of the book came to me in dreams, and what didn’t I was able to fill in myself. I love visiting this reality I’ve made for myself, and one day soon I hope to share it with others. Maybe by the end of the year!

I’ve been writing for almost three years now, though only two of them as a serious writer intending to be published. I’m in the process of editing and having to learn as I go. I never expected to be a writer, it just happened, but it’s something I’ve come to love and obsess about.

I don’t just write wolves, I read them. Patricia Briggs writes some darn good werewolf books! I also enjoyed the Shiver series by Maggie Stiefvater, and of course Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klause, to name a few.

I’m a proud military wife, a devoted mother of a beautiful daughter and adorable son, pack Alpha to two loving dog companions, and servant to an amorous cat. I was raised in a creative family, and excelled in art and graphics until my High School Graduation. Afterwards, I joined the Air force and served for four years until getting out to better care for my children.

I have always been a vivid dreamer and during the pregnancy of my son I started turning my dreams into a book. My world is full of werewolves, pixies, dragons, angels, demons, ghosts, and vampires. I’m a daydreamer, and a bit of a hermit, an artist, a bookworm, and a writer. I’m opinionated, and honest. People have said I’m silly, odd, weird, a dork, a geek, and even a little crazy. They are right on all accounts. I am all of this and more.

Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Google+

♥ ♥

If you would like to be featured as a Novel Ninja, just join the dojo using the linky list you can find here.
We'd love to have you join us!

growing up as an author

2012-05-07T05:00:00.000-06:00

This past weekend I had a pretty powerful experience. Remember how in this post I admitted that I've been kind of ashamed of my book? Well, this weekend I sat on a self-publishing panel at the LDStorymakers Writer's Conference in Provo, Utah which meant I could sell my book in the conference book store and participate in the mass book signing.

The prospect made me super nervous because 1) this is a writer's conference peopled by many Latter Day Saint (Mormon) writers who might be offended by the journey my main character has to take and 2) the Storymaker community generally frowns upon self-published authors. The only reason I was able to sell my book was because I was a presenter at the conference. Anyhoo . . .

All of this adds up to a potential crisis situation of non-book-selling and shame. I could be judged (negatively) at every turn. This could be really, really bad.

The ali of two weeks ago would have been saying, "Well, my book isn't for everyone", like twenty-million times.

I'm proud (super duper proud) to say that I didn't say that once. In fact, I only said, "Thank you so much for the support. I hope you enjoy it!"

My display at the start of the conference.
I tried to show my book the love it deserves.

And . . . I sold twenty copies! There were only two books left in my display when I went to pack up!

People stood in line so I could sign their books.

People told me they loved my books.

And I looked them in the eyes and said, "Thank you."

By golly, I think I'm growing up!

One last word . . . My honey, David, took third place in the first chapter contest adult general fiction category! It was his first time entering any kind of writing contest and I couldn't be more proud of him!

I'm going to be working super hard at my writing job this week--for my writer-friends I wish you many thousands of awesome words and for my readers? I'm doing my best to give you a heart-wrenching, gut-twisting second volume in the Desolation series!

IWSG going against the grain

2012-05-02T05:00:00.000-06:00

A virtual support group hosted
by Alex J. Cavanaugh
the 1st Wed every month

I know several awesome bloggers--Elana & Alex are two of the best. Both of these bloggers are Super Fabulous and have fantastic work ethics and identifiable methods that contribute to their success.

I want to be as Super Fabulous as them, but I've decided that I can't always have what I want.

And that's okay.

At least, I need it to be okay.

Perhaps I'll go into holy-cow-withdrawal, but I've decided to take a step back from blogging. I won't worry about my blogging schedule. I won't allow myself to feel stressed or like my Whole Career depends on my blogging.

Instead, I'm going to practice being a writer.

I will write and publish new books. I will market and promote my books. I will write more books. I will enjoy reading people's blogs because I will have time for them, time to support and encourage them, which makes me happy. I will be a writing ninja extraordinaire.

I am not Elana nor Alex. I am me. And I've got to be okay with that.

BUT it is scary. I've got a great following here. You might lose interest in my blog. You might be totally right to do so. You might think I am somehow "less than" because I'm not Super Fabulous. So that's my insecurity--that I'm not as awesome as I might like to be. That I am trying to find my limitations, or better demarcate them so I can avoid running into them, and in so doing I might lose your interest or attention.

Those fears may or may not be legitimate--but that's the whole point of the IWSG, right? Most of our insecurities are irrational; though it really is nice to be able to share these silly fears with you!

Do you honor your limitations? Or do you, like I have up until now, constantly push those limits in the hope that you will one day be as Super Fabulous as those bloggers you admire?

AND, the winner of my Thousand Thank You's Giveaway is

Nicole A.!

Thank you for all the wonderful support!

beautiful cover alert! CLOSED HEARTS by Susan Kaye Quinn!

2012-05-01T07:38:00.000-06:00

Probably my favorite book of 2012, OPEN MINDS by fellow Indelible Susan Kaye Quinn rocked my world. Not only was it beautifully written and produced, it also told a rockin' story about Kira a girl who thought she was a mind-numb freak in a world of open minded readers. The story was exciting, adventurous, heart-wrenching, believable, and just all 'round awesome.

So I'm super thrilled to be part of this exciting day when we get to see the cover of Susan's sequel CLOSED HEARTS! If you love science fiction, mysteries and adventures, hurry and get your copy of OPEN MINDS, read it and get yourself ready to snatch up CLOSED HEARTS when it comes out May 23rd!

Congratulations Susan! She's a beaut!

Coming May 23rd...

Closed Hearts (Book Two of the Mindjack Trilogy)

When you control minds, only your heart can be used against you.

Eight months ago, Kira Moore revealed to the mindreading world that mindjackers like herself were hidden in their midst. Now she wonders if telling the truth was the right choice after all. As wild rumors spread, a powerful anti-jacker politician capitalizes on mindreaders’ fears and strips jackers of their rights. While some jackers flee to Jackertown—a slum rife with jackworkers who trade mind control favors for cash—Kira and her family hide from the readers who fear her and jackers who hate her. But when a jacker Clan member makes Kira’s boyfriend Raf collapse in her arms, Kira is forced to save the people she loves by facing the thing she fears most: FBI agent Kestrel and his experimental torture chamber for jackers.

Release Date: May 23rd, 2012

Click Here to sign up for the Virtual Launch Party on May 23rd! There will be prizes, reviews, bonus content, did I mention prizes? Come join the fun!

PRAISE FOR

Open Minds (Book One of the Mindjack Trilogy)

“Being a fan of dystopian and sci-fi in young adult books this was exactly the type of book I was hoping to fall in love with and absolutely did ...YA readers who love authors like Ally Condie, Veronica Roth, Lauren Oliver and others would be missing out if they failed to pick up Open Minds by Susan Kaye Quinn. Join Kira on her journey to save her fellow mindjackers and potentially change the landscape of her world forever.”

— Danielle Smith, book blogger at There’s a Book

“Susan plunges readers into a compelling and frightening world where nearly everyone can read minds when they come of age. The very idea makes me shudder. This is easily one of the best books I've read not only this year, but in recent years.”

— Heather McCorkle, author of The Secret of Spruce Knoll

"Susan Kaye Quinn's Open Minds is an edge-of-the-seat YA sci-fi, where 16 year-old Kira dodges psychological bullets from all sides." — Catherine Stine, author of Fireseed One

Open Minds $2.99 on Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble, and iTunes

Susan Kaye Quinn, Author

Susan Kaye Quinn grew up in California, where she wrote snippets of stories and passed them to her friends during class. She pursued a bunch of engineering degrees and worked a lot of geeky jobs, including turns at GE Aircraft Engines, NASA, and NCAR. Now that she writes novels, her business card says "Author and Rocket Scientist" and she doesn't have to sneak her notes anymore. All that engineering comes in handy when dreaming up paranormal powers in future worlds or mixing science with fantasy to conjure slightly plausible inventions. Susan writes from the Chicago suburbs with her three boys, two cats, and one husband. Which, it turns out, is exactly as much as she can handle.

Way too often, you can find Susan on her blog, facebook, and twitter.

Susan’s Other Works

Open Minds

In His Eyes Anthology (includes Mind Games, a short prequel to Open Minds)

Life, Liberty, and Pursuit (a teen love story)

Full Speed Ahead (short afterstory to Life, Liberty, and Pursuit)

thank yous galore!

2012-04-27T10:55:00.001-06:00

Trials are humbling. They put you in your place. They help you see what's really important. They help you find out who your friends are. (And yeah, I'm totally thinking of Tracy Lawrence here)

I've learned not to be surprised by the kindnesses bloggers show to one another. Our network is probably one of the most supportive out there--but still. One can only give so much before you start to go, "Ah, forget 'em." I knew I was taking a big risk--that you would just say forget about me--when I had my uncharacteristic breakdown the other day.

But instead of kicking me to the curb, you rallied around me. Hugged me. Held me up. And today Alex gave me such a kind shout-out from the rather large podium of his blog. To say I'm humbled might be an understatement.

I am so thankful for each of you. And thank you for your hugs and kind words the other day--this hard-hearted girl now has tears in her eyes and so I think it's time to say once more, "Thank you" and then high-tale it on outta here.

Oh, but one last thing. If you've come here from Alex's blog, thank you for taking the time to visit. I look forward to getting to know you!

((hugs all around--and lots of high fives too!))

facing the music and bowing out of the a-z

2012-04-21T17:05:00.000-06:00

Dear ninja friends,

I'm writing to tell you that I'm kind of freaking out--which is unlike me. Not that I usually have it all together or anything, but I do (normally) manage to keep my head above water.

However, right this very minute I feel very much under water. Job drama, drama in my personal life that hit me like a fist to the stomach, house drama . . . it's sucking my creative energy so what little I have left needs to be put to use on DESOLATION, which I'm trying to get out by a certain date.

I hate failing. I do not like that I'm backing out of the A-Z challenge with only a few days left, but I need to huddle and focus on what's most important and only that for a little while. I think it would be presumptuous of me to continue blogging, asking you to read my posts, when there's no reasonable way I'll be getting around to reading yours.

I believe blogging is a friendship, a shared experience--it can't be all you and no me. I'd rather take a break and come back when I can show you my gratitude by paying back your kindnesses.

If you're the praying kind, a prayer on behalf of my family would be most appreciated. If David doesn't find work soon I'm afraid . . . Well, I guess I'm just afraid.

Hugs and loves to all of you. See you (hopefully) soon!
ali :)

p.s. Don't be afraid to enter the giveaway if you haven't already! I'll announce the winner on May 1st!

a-z satan

2012-04-21T10:23:00.000-06:00

The great king Odin, Lord of Asgard and Valhalla, fathered two sons. Thor, a faithful and stalwart son who sought glory for all Gardians--and Loki.

Loki, as beautiful and brilliant as the morning, had so much potential but one fatal flaw. He could not accept that his father's heart could have room for both his sons.

Loki's preferred form--casual grace.

Loki sought every opportunity to prove his worth to his father, Odin. And every time his efforts went unrewarded. When Odin devised the plan for Ascension--a way for the immortal citizens of Asgard to become as gods with the ability to create their own worlds--Loki saw it as his chance to make a difference in the lives of his fellow Gardians.

He rejected Odin's plan to create a new world where Gardians would be reborn as human children, mortal beings that retained no recollection of their origins or the purpose of their lives. Loki desired all to have the right to Ascension without passing through such a meaningless, and dangerous, test. He didn't wish for anyone to be left behind or denied their eternal reward.

Loki in the embrace of his Shadow.

A full third of the citizens of Asgard preferred Loki's plan over Odin's. Loki led them to war against their brothers, their sisters, their friends, and in the end, he lost. As punishment, Odin cursed Loki and all his followers with Shadow where once they had been Light. Then Odin cast them out of Asgard and forbade them ever return.

Loki wandered the solar system and devised his revenge. He found himself in Helheimer, a giant world at the base of all the worlds, ruled by the stunning, but lonely, goddess Helena. He seduced her and eventually imprisoned her, claiming Helheimer for his own.

Loki set his plan in action, sending his minions to Midgard, a planet the forgetful humans called Earth. He fathered a daughter, a tool he planned to wield as a perfect extension of his own arm. She would vindicate him. She would pull Asgard crashing down to its knees. In her father's name, she would claim Midgard and rule it in perfect harmony with him.

She was his weapon. She was his promise of retribution to his father.

He named her Desolation.

a-z redemption

2012-04-20T05:00:00.000-06:00

We all have things we've done wrong. Mistakes, misjudgments.

We all have things we wish we could repair, things we wish we could make right.

But sometimes it seems there's nothing we can do. Words aren't enough. Actions feel less than sincere. We think our mistakes are so profound there can be no redemption for us.

That's how it can feel, inside our own hearts and minds where our wrong-doings are magnified to astronomical proportions. It's rarely, however, the truth.

It's never too late to choose good--for any of us.

a-z query

2012-04-19T05:00:00.000-06:00

I tried not to write about queries. I figured all the writers out there would be chatting about queries today and by golly, I wanted to be different! Sadly, I am, apparently, not THAT different.

The thing I wanted to say about queries is . . . they are a wonderful thing. Querying is terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. It's kind of like an extreme sport in that way, don't you think? If your query is well-received, you could be flying. You could accomplish something truly life-changing.

Or, you could land with a big ol' splat on the sidewalk.

But you know what? Life is something you live. To live is to take chances.

Like extreme athletes will tell you, "If you don't try, you won't fly."

So send those queries out, my friends!

♥

An important note about #ninjachat today. I won't be here!

Thing 2 is playing Macduff in a kid-i-fied version of Macbeth!

Should be super fun--there's even singing!

Please feel free to chat in my absence!

#ninjachat is held every Thursday at 2:00 p.m. MST.

a-z potential

2012-04-18T07:20:00.000-06:00

Everyone has the potential to be great. Yes, everyone--me, you. Even Desi.

Desi most of all.

Desolation Black has always had a secret--and her secret is her potential.

She's the daughter of Satan. She lives in Hell. She has been groomed to follow in her father's footsteps; to one day inherit his kingdom.

And yet . . . there is that spark. That hint of something more.

The thing is, what should Desi do with that potential? If she's anything like many of us, she'll do nothing. Because even while we dream of being something more--we all have that fear of the very thing we hope for. If I become all that I'm meant to be, will I still be me? Will people's expectations of me change? Will I be able to keep it up?

I think those thoughts. Do you? Well, Desi does. She's got potential, all right, but she also has a whole wack of fear of the unknown.

Does your potential scare you? Or did it, before you embraced it?

a-z open-minded

2012-04-17T05:00:00.000-06:00

This past weekend I had the opportunity to participate in a writer's conference--I taught two classes and had a spot between Kathi Orem Peterson and Angie Lofthouse in which to nestle my books and sell them. This was a weekend of firsts for me--I've never done any of the things I did. And . . . it was pretty awesome!

I discovered I love to teach and that I feel very passionate about my branding technique, which helped me give an awesome class. But I also discovered that I have a very hard time selling my book. Almost like I'm apologetic about it. I even found myself saying, "It's not for everyone". Bad, ali! Bad!

I've been doing a lot of soul-searching about this. I am not ashamed of my writing. I am not ashamed of the story I told. But I do think I wish I hadn't written such a dark story. I'd love to be able to say, "Yeah! This is a great book--you'll love it!"

So, I am making a serious, concerted effort to change my opinion about my own book. I just realized that when I think a reader might not be interested in my book (for whatever reason) I am making a judgement about them. A judgement that they are not the kind of reader who would enjoy my kind of book. But who am I to judge? I mean, isn't that what BECOME is all about? About being more than what others give you credit for? About being more than you ever thought you could be? Heck yes!

Why, then, do I judge my potential readers??

Yes, BECOME isn't for everyone. But NO book is enjoyed by absolutely everyone. So I am resolving to be open-minded about my potential readers and I will trust that said readers will be open-minded when they crack open my book.

Hello, my name is ali cross, and I wrote this book. Buy it, you'll (probably) love it!

You can buy the ebook for $2.99 or buy a paperback right here on my blog!

a-z living

2012-04-13T05:00:00.000-06:00

I am experiencing ali-fail at the moment and will not be a super-fabulous A-Z-winner this month. I'm gonna miss today (sorta) and tomorrow and yep, probably Monday! Because I'm living, people! And I'm just not super-fabulous enough to live and blog. At least, not this time. :)

So tomorrow, I'll be in Ephraim, Utah, at Snow College, presenting at the Write Here in Ephraim writer's conference. If you live anywhere in driveable distance I hope you'll come! There are lots of great classes being offered and of course I'd love to see you!

I'm teaching The Art of Novel Ninjutsu (TM) and Building a Bodacious Brand (TM). Should be lots of fun!

I thought I was mostly prepared, but home repairs have had me distracted and not terribly efficient. So now I'm running around like a crazy person trying to get everything done.

I feel super passionate about the topics I'm teaching and I want them to be the best I can make them. Wish me luck!

Also, thank you so very much to everyone who has taken the time to comment during this A-Z Challenge. It is my singular bloggie goal to visit each of your blogs and return the kindness you have shown me.

Have a wonderful weekend and I hope to see my Utah friends in Ephraim tomorrow!

a-z karate

2012-04-12T05:00:00.000-06:00

Um, have you seen my place here? I'm just a *little* obsessed with the martial arts, karate in particular. It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I'd include karate in my books--and BECOME is no exception.

Desi has been trained in all forms of fighting her whole life. Her favored weapon is the staff, but she's skilled in nunchucks, sais and open hand combat.

I had a great visual for writing these fight scenes--Kari from the West Jordan Bobby Lawrence Karate studio. Kari not only looks a lot like how I picture Desi, but she is amazing in her martial arts skillz.

a-z james

2012-04-11T05:00:00.001-06:00

Ah, James. How I love you. A lot of my readers love you too. ;)

Funny how you can have a supporting character who has just the right something that he plants himself in readers' hearts without the author ever meaning him to. I'm not sorry, though. James is special.

I discovered just how special when I wrote Shattered, a short story told from James' point of view in the young adult anthology IN HIS EYES (it's free on Amazon!).

When James was a little boy Daniel did a con on his dad--convincing James' dad to kill his wife and then take his own life. Daniel took James in and raised him up at his own at Casa del Diablo, teaching him the art of the con and how to give a girl every little thing she wants until she doesn't have any free will left. And James was very, very good at it.

Not to mention, he liked it.

Because what's not to like? All the sexy cars he can drive, as much money as he needs, living the party life without a care in the world--except for keeping Daniel happy.

Everything was going just the way it should until Daniel gave him one assignment that didn't go as planned. It involved a cute teenage girl--it should have been a piece of cake. But this girl was Miri, and as Desi will tell you--there's just something about Miri that brings out the best in people. But you'd have to read Shattered for more on that.

a-z innocence

2012-04-10T05:00:00.001-06:00

What is innocence? Is it inexperience? Virginity? Or is it an pure heart?

I'll tell you a secret. I think Desi is innocent. She's grown up in Hell. She's seen the worst all the worlds have to offer. In a moment of righteous rage she embraces her own darkness.

And yet, she is innocent.

I suppose I think this because she is untried. She has yet to discover her true value, her true potential. There is hope in her--and there is a wellspring of goodness that is yet untapped.

Desi finds solace in this stone angel, a comfort in its stony heart, its appearance of innocent goodness. Desi believes her heart is as rock-hard as they come, but their similarity doesn't end there. Can you guess what it might be?

a-z hope & hell

2012-04-09T05:00:00.000-06:00

I realized that I have really been doing a disservice to all of you who've been reading my A-Z posts. I have really not been doing my best writing--my apologies! I will try to do a little better from here on out.

So, I wrote this post a few days ago, and did it on hell (I still included it below), but I realized that at this very moment I have a more important "H" word happening in my life. And that is hope.

Two weeks ago my husband lost his job. It was a total surprise. In fact we had just the day before (I kid you not) we'd decided we felt more secure in his job than we had at any previous time in his career. Ha! Take that complacency!

David usually works for start-up companies, so he's moved from job to job a lot. Some start-ups become successful (we were worth over a million dollars at one point in his career ~ counting stock options and such, of course!) and David moves on because the company is able to run development on their product without him, or the company goes bust. Whatever the reason, we've been down this road before.

The cool thing is, we don't feel afraid. My husband is brilliant and talented and I have every expectation that he'll be back to work soon enough. I have hope.

Hope is such a beautiful thing. It keeps me going. Keeps me smiling despite crummy days. Hope binds us together and is our flashlight through the dark. We're going to be okay. I have faith in my man and my hope for our future shines brightly.

And here's my original post on Hell--an important setting element in my book, BECOME.

♥ ♥

"Grasping" by tentativenights

What other choice did I have but to write about Hell since my main character, Desi, is from there? Of course I had to!

In my Desolation series, Hell is the world Helheimer that's nestled in the roots of Ygdrasyll--the world tree. Hell is red and black with fires that burn ice cold. There is no smell, no sound but for the words of Loki and his demons. The dead are trapped in a world with zero fodder for the senses.

Desi hates it and loves it in turns. When she's there, she hates the cold, hates the emptiness, hates the wanters and needers who endlessly grasp at her. When she's on Earth, she longs to return to Hell--because there, she knows exactly what's expected of her, exactly who she is.

a-z granite

2012-04-08T23:56:00.000-06:00

Helheimer, or Hell as humans call it, is a labyrinth of volcanic rock, a world of constant burning--but the fires of Hell are freezing cold. Loki's palace is a polished black granite mountain that rises out of a sea of lava, the tiers of Hell stretched beneath it. It's beautiful in its own way.

Fires of Hell by Misuteru Neko

a-z forgetting

2012-04-06T05:00:00.000-06:00

Desi says she doesn't like Hell, where it's cold, lonely and totally predictable. But she's kind of lying. See, Desi likes to forget. And in Hell, where time stretches out forward and back with endless sameness, it can be a bit easier to forget. She wants to forget there are choices to be made. She wants to forget mistakes she has made. She wants to pretend she doesn't matter--she wants to forget who she is.

a-z eternity

2012-04-05T05:00:00.000-06:00

Eternity by Pierre Devlin

Eternity is a very long time.

But it's exactly how long Michael has loved Desi.

And it's precisely how long Desi will love Michael.

The question is . . . will they be able to share that eternity with each other.

a-z desolation

2012-04-04T05:00:00.000-06:00

Created by my cover artist Fanye L.O.

Desolation is the devil's daughter. She believes her mother was human and unable to survive her birth. She's been raised in the cold realm of Hell, her days a constant sameness of martial arts training and grooming to inherit her father's kingdom one day.

She hates it all.

She survives. Exists. But some days even that feels like too much.

Because deep in her heart she holds a secret. A secret that could ruin her life--or at least change it. And change can be terrifying.

a-z cornelius

2012-04-03T05:00:00.000-06:00

Victor Cornelius is a Catholic priest and a member of the secret society The Hallowed. Cornelius is kind, fatherly, and fearless. He sees the good in Desi even when she can't--he believes in her and in her ability to choose the right side, the side of good.

a-z become

2012-04-02T05:00:00.000-06:00

To become something is to make a choice.

At first my book was called THE DEVIL'S DAUGHTER--because Desi is.

But that's not what Desi chose. Not who she wants to be.

She could embrace the heritage her father bestowed on her, and Become a demon, like him; or she could Become something of her own making. Something she chooses for herself.

If you could choose, what would you become?

a-z awareness

2012-04-01T13:00:00.000-06:00

My theme for the A-Z Challenge is my book BECOME and the world of my DESOLATION series.

The main character, Desi is not very self-aware. At least not at first. During the course of the series she learns a lot about herself and the world she lives in--or rather, the worlds she lives in.

"Awareness" by firheruwen

Sometimes we go about our lives like we live in a tunnel--and we aren't even focused ahead. We're walking in a tunnel with our gaze fixed on the ground right in front of our feet. We are not aware of what's going on around us or how those things affect us.

Desi is definitely this way, but in BECOME, she's forced to realize that she doesn't live in a tunnel--she's a part of life and life requires that we act. At first Desi's efforts to act are misguided and clunky. She doesn't know who she is or even where to start making changes in her life.

But as her awareness grows, so does her faith in the people around her--even if she's not willing to give herself the same courtesy.