I am a passive person. The only drama I want, the only violence I will tolerate, is on my television screen, at the movie theatre, in the novels I read. And in the stories I write.

I have a pretty sweet life. I have good kids. I have a loving family. I have never had a drug habit, never been arrested, never even been in any real trouble. My life is like the first fictional scene I wrote with violence in it. No blood. No anger. I was tiptoeing about the issue. It was nice. Nice violence. Boring scene.

Maybe that’s how I want to live. But who’d want to read about it?

Even though I could never physically hurt someone in the flesh, I found a way to visualize. There’s always someone, living or dead, real or imagined, whose eyes you fantasize about gouging out, right? Someone who could benefit from a good ax murdering? Well, someone from whose ax murder YOU may benefit.

Use them. In your mind of course. Only on the pages of fiction. Not in back alley under the anonymous cover of a moonless night sky.

My awesome editor, Scott Morgan, has a writing mantra – “write for the jugular.” He’s taught me a lot about being brave and facing the tough stuff. So I say take it a step further. Don’t just write for the jugular, slice that puppy wide open. Let blood spurt all over the floors, dip your fingers in it and paint crimson pictures on the wall, leave a scarlet confession on the mirror.

Just don’t be so damn nice about it.

I’ve shot drugs, murdered teenagers, beaten a priest to death, sliced off a husband’s, um, body part, and even forced a young girl into prostitution. Once you get the hang of evil, it starts to come easy.

In fiction only. On the pages of my made up world.

In my boring real life, I’d never do any of those things. I try to right wrongs. But in the fictional realm, I write wrongs. And lots of them.

What do you write that makes you squirm? Or at least used to…

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/writing/how-to-write-a-wrong/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

They say all girls turn into their mothers. Well, like my darling mother, I tend to repeat myself. Usually I don’t mean it, I just forget that I’ve said or done something and I do it again. Better safe than sorry, right?

In April, I repeated myself again. Twice. But these are the good kind of repeats. The kind I want to just keep on repeating.

I won another Camp Nano! Around the sixteenth of the month I’d resigned myself to the fact that I just wouldn’t make it to the end. Between lunch events, post-audit busy-work, tax returns calling my name, and dammit all to hell, my back giving me such grief that just sitting and typing was excruciating, my word count took a hit.

Then that competitive thing that sits dormant in my brain until I am challenged jumped up and smacked me upside the head. I went into high gear, woke up earlier, vomited words, and hit that goal! Ah, that feels good.

What will be my third or fourth novel (I have two works in progress on the go and am not sure which will get to the finish line first) is now well on its way. It’s a bit of a twisted tale of manipulation and control, abuse and revenge. Fun to write. And kind of exhausting at the icky parts. At one point my heart raced so fast I had to shut my laptop and go have tea. With luck, the readers’ hearts will race just as much. Look for Unlike Any Normal Day later this year.

The second repeat was even better!

It Isn’t Cheating if He’s Dead, my second novel, was published mid-April. I put it out with little fanfare (not that I know how to create fanfare to begin with), right in the middle of the whole back trauma situation. Please check it out and feel free to share the links below. Share them all over the place. Be a sharing slut. Come on, share your brains out!

• Paperback at Createspace
• Amazon.com
• Amazon.ca
• Barnes & Noble
• Kobo
• I-books

April was a busy month. Maybe a bit too busy. Next year I’ll save Camp for the quiet of the summer. Or maybe I’ll publish novel number four and make April about more than just taxes. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/writing/am-i-repeating-myself/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Today I welcome Nicole Storey to my blog space to share World Autism Day with all of you.

World Autism Day? No! World Autism WEEK!

Hello! As an author and a mother of an autistic child, I try to do my part to support autism, whether it be research, grants for people with autism, therapy, resources for parents, and the like. World Autism Day gives the world a chance to show their support for all autistic individuals and I want to do my part.

So, with that in mind, my publisher, Inknbeans Press and I are offering a special edition e-book that includes all three titles of the Grimsley Hollow series written so far for only $6.99! With every purchase of this book, a donation will be made to Autism Speaks. The book will be available for purchase from Monday (4-1-13) until Friday (4-5-13) ONLY!

For those who aren’t familiar with Grimsley Hollow, I got the idea for the series from my son, and he is the main character and hero of the books. It is a YA fantasy with a touch of paranormal and a lot of Halloween! It is recommended for ages 10 and up.

Please consider grabbing a copy of this book and helping autistic individuals everywhere. Remember, not all heroes wear capes and these extraordinary people ARE heroes! Here are the links below:

Nicole Storey’s Face Book Page: https://www.facebook.com/nicolestoreyfans

Twitter: @Nicole_Storey

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00C4I7NAQ

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Grimsley-Hollow-Awareness-Collection-ebook/dp/B00C4I7NAQ

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-grimsley-hollow-world-autism-awareness-day-collection-nicole-storey/1046367702?ean=2940016426457

Kobo Books: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/The-Grimsley-Hollow-World-Autism/book-ZjKIPKQ5BEKGHc5gzGoOEA/page1.html?s=5xs3mzhAI0qcLtHAuqVz3w&r=3

Thanks so very much for your support! Together, we can make a difference!

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/guest-posts/world-autism-day-a-guest-post-by-nicole-storey/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Today, I have the honour of guest-posting on the blog of published author and all around great lady, Nicole Storey.

You can find Nickie’s Grimsley Hollow series through her Amazon author page here: http://www.amazon.com/Nicole-Storey/e/B005J8CKPG

And now, on to Sex and WIPS!

There is a particular art to writing an effective sex scene. Good fictional sex has all the same elements as good real-life sex, and the same dramatic structure as a novel.

Exposition – Background information. Who are the players? Where are they? Why are they together? What has brought them to the brink of sex?

Rising action – The characters don’t just say hello and then drop to the floor and do it. There must be tension and escalation. Literary foreplay as it were. If done effectively, there’d be another kind of rising action just before….

read more at Nicole Storey’s blog . . .

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/writing/sex-and-wips/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Not what you’re thinking. Though I’ve often used the F word, you know, the one that got your mouth washed out with soap, when I talk about this new F word. Dare I say it? Oh, what the fuck.

Fifty.

There. It’s out. I’m fifty. Today. All day long…

I’m still hot. It just comes in flashes ~ Anonymous

Still crazy after all these years

I had a goal to complete before I turned fifty. I would write and publish my first novel. CHECK! Done. Before fifty-one I plan on doing it all over again – twice. A question to all the men over fifty – how many of you can do it twice? Huh? Huh???

I’m aiming by the time I’m fifty to stop being an adolescent. ~ Wendy Cope

Clearly, Ms. Cope, I don’t have the same aim.

Wednesday’s child shall fear no woe. ~ oft misquoted nursery rhyme

Kind of circular. Born on a Wednesday. Fifty on a Wednesday.

Some days I feel every one of my 18,263 days.  But more often I feel like I’m still thirty. Sometimes only twenty. I don’t mean in my knowledge (I’m way smarter now), and I certainly don’t mean energy levels or body shape (no further comment required). And not in attitude (my bullshit meter has never been stronger), or confidence (I fake it real good). Okay, I have no idea how I feel like I’m twenty, I just like to think I do. And my memory is still good. I’ve got a mind like a steel . . . whatchamacallit.

The man who views the world at fifty the same as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life. ~ Muhammad Ali

And the woman too, right Mr. Clay?

Life is too short to be serious

The view is pretty good from up here, two-thirds of the way up life’s ladder. Would I like to be twenty again? Hell no. I was naive and stupid then. Not in a tests-and-report-card way – in a life lesson way. I don’t want to go through all that schooling again. And I never want to return to a point in my life prior to when my kids were born. Everything is better because of them.

Aging seems to be the only available way to live a long life. ~ Daniel Francois Esprit Auber

Not everyone is given the opportunity for long life. I may not be. No predicting what is around the next corner. So off I go, enjoying every day that I have. Living life my way for as many days and years as I can.

Old age is no place for sissies. ~ Bette Davis

Fifty – pshaw. Bring it!

Peace out, man

pictures copyright Carolyn Frayn (except that last one. I think my Mommy took that).

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/bric-a-brac/the-f-word/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

I want to do more. I’m never satisfied with what I’ve done. ~ Shannon Hoon

Goodnight stars, goodnight moon

Goodnight ghost of Shannon Hoon

Goodnight toes, goodnight fingers

Goodnight stinky fart that lingers

Goodnight word count, goodnight book

Goodnight elusive page-one hook

Goodnight work, goodnight career

Goodnight potato chips and beer

Goodnight girlfriend, goodnight dude

Goodnight nasty attitude

Goodnight work, I want to play

Goodnight to a stressful day

Girlfriend & Dude

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/bric-a-brac/good-night-hoon/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

1. In a desperate bid to do something — anything — creative (since the day job is in a profession that not only frowns on creativity but may prosecute you for it), sign up for a creative writing course and write a short story.

2. Check the mailbox daily like a crazed loon to see if the instructor sent it back with his accolades. (That’s mailbox, the metal thing attached to the front of the house. What? It is 1998 after all).

3. Finally, after four or five interminable weeks, rip open the envelope to discover a slew of red pen marks, suggestions, and corrections.

4. Cry a little.

5. Take heart that said instructor thinks the dialogue is great and there is enough in there for a novel.

6. Let that idea stew for six years.

7. End an eighteen-year marriage, watch your children grow into pre-teens, become disillusioned with your career, sign up for a “how to write a novel” course — then pick up that short story and begin writing. I can turn that bus trip that took four words into a full page! Maybe two…

8. Check the mailbox daily like a crazed loon to see if the instructor sent it back with his accolades. (Yes, mailbox again. Only 2004. You can email the instructor for advice, but must entrust your sacred manuscript to the hands of Canada Post).

9. When the envelope arrives, rip it open and pore over the red marks slashing across the pages like open wounds after Jack the Ripper is done with your sorry ass.

10. Cry a little.

11. Quit your job. Be unemployed for five months while living off your line of credit. Dabble in writing but shove your manuscript in a box. It is still bleeding, after all.

12. Start a new job. Move into a ‘new’ old house unstained by failed relationships. Quit the job and finally get one you love at a wonderful place. Settle into a comfortable, stable, free existence and watch your children grow into adults, all the while dabbling in short stories and flash fiction and creative writing exercises.

13. Think about your dusty manuscript. Ask your daughter for the courage you need to resurrect your old dreams. When she gives it, sign up for another novel writing course and never, ever, look back.

14. Finish the novel. Send it to beta readers. Get their feedback — the good, the bad and the oh-my-dog.

15. Rejoice a little.

16. After far too long, hire a badass editor. Get his edits and suggestions and critique. And accolades. Yes. Finally. Accolades.

17. Cry a little.

18. Give up on the year-long pursuit of the elusive sasquatch agent since you clearly suck big-time at writing query letters. Learn to format your manuscript as an ebook and for print on demand.

19. Hire a kickass cover artist. Open the PDF of the cover art for the first time.

20. Cry a little.

21. Upload your baby to Smashwords and Amazon and Kobo and Barnes & Noble and Createspace.

22. Get a proof of your first novel in print. An actual book. Your words. Your dreams. Your name. In physical form.

23. Cry. A lot.

See? Easy!

Suicide City now available at Smashwords, Amazon (Kindle), Amazon.ca (Kindle too), Kobo, Barnes & Noble (nook), and Createspace (paperback!)

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/writing/how-to-write-and-publish-a-novel-in-23-easy-steps/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Today I am fortunate to be guest blogging for Leanne Shirtliffe, Ironic Mom. Hop over to her blog and see how even preparing a simple Thanksgiving meal might lead to therapy!

And on the news front – I published my first novel last week! Yup, I finally did it. I also got the news that Suicide City made it into the second round of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards, being one of 2000 from 10,000 entries, chosen to move forward based on a 300 word pitch.

Find Suicide City at Smashwords and Amazon. Soon to be available at other retailers (B&N and Apple) and also in paperback!

Publish first novel before I turn fifty – check!

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/guest-posts/ironic-mom-for-a-day/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

You were born twenty-one years ago today. That was the day I discovered the meaning of true love.

Your little fists punched, feet kicked. You stretched and rolled. Oh how fun to watch people’s faces in the elevator when they saw you do your daily back flip inside me.

We’d been together, inseparable, symbiotic, for every minute of nine and a half wonderful months. They had to kick you out, you know. You were quite comfortable, all warm inside your mommy.

And then you were here. Slimy and slippery and kind of gross. You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. One look in your eyes, and that was it. I was in love. True love. For the very first time.

I’ve watched you grow, mature. Seen you hurt, held you as you cried. Witnessed your immeasurable capacity to care. To love. The ease with which you laugh. I am honoured you call me friend.

In the blink of an eye you became an adult. To this day, when I gaze upon your perfect face, hold your precious hands, my heart skips a beat. True love never dies.

You are beautiful and generous and brilliant and honest. You are my light, my hope, my dreams. You have come to represent everything that is good in this world. Kindness, love, happiness, promise.

Every moment in life brought you to me. You chose me. You are why I am.

Happy birthday, Brynn.

Love, Mom

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/bric-a-brac/happy-birthday-daughter/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

I can’t go back to yesterday – because I was a different person then. ~ Lewis Carroll

Have you ever stepped back in time? Returned to a place you swore you’d never set foot in again? A place that gives you shivers just thinking about? A place where nightmares are born and never die? I did.

Junior high school.

1975 with my favourite substitute teacher

My old school was the polling station for our last provincial election. The moment I walked in the door I got smacked upside the head by memories. Smacked, I tell you. Upside the head.

I cast my vote in the gym, locale of many sports-related bully-target moments for this asthmatic teacher’s pet. They (that’s junior high speak for those damn adults) even made us dance in there. I don’t mean after school ‘shags’ — really? shags? — that I never attended. Nope. All the latest dances were part of the phys ed curriculum. The box step. The alley cat. The hustle.

Okay, only that last one was ‘latest’ when I was in junior high. It was the height of disco fever after all. I don’t know where the rest of those steps came from but I can’t get that alley cat music out of my head! It is macarenaesque as bad dance ear worms go.

On my way to vote in the gym, I passed the entry to the most horrific place of all. The girls’ locker room. Humiliation abounded inside those walls. Like hell would I change into my gym strip — really? strip? — in front of the other girls. Instead I endured taunts through the curtain of one of the few change cubicles.

“Joanne you’re so flat!”

“Not as flat as Julie! She’ll never get boobs.”

Girls suck.

On this trip back in time, I didn’t get to revisit the one room where I was completely at ease. Math class. I was the star of junior high math. In grade six I lead my team to victory in the math Olympics (which was really only who could do rote times tables the fastest). Throughout junior high, my math mark was never below 95%, and it was normal for 100% to grace my report card. My favourite teacher, Mr. McDonald, wrote the best report card comment ever.

1977. What you can't see is the original Star Wars t-shirt that I wish I'd been smart enough to keep

“What can I say?”

No, I can’t go back. Don’t want to. But in looking back, I can find the good, focus on the positive. I did make friends that I still have 35 years later. Even some of the bullies and cool kids that wouldn’t give me the time of day and made me quake in my sneakers when I walked through the halls are now friends.

And it is fun to remember how embarrassed the art and home ec teachers were when they got caught making out in the supply closet.

Do you have a scary place? Would you be brave enough to go back?

Join JulieBird on Facebook    Follow Julie on Twitter

© Julie Frayn for JulieBird, 2013.
Permalink: http://juliebird.ca/bric-a-brac/dont-go-back/

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh