When Did I Say The Crazy Would Die Down?

Ok, this post is all excuses reasons I've been away.

1. My father-in-law was back in the hospital for his heart last week. They released him, but didn't solve the issue, so he's been weak and I've been trying to help out as much as possible.

2. One of my blue-haired-old ladies went into the hospital this week. She's the one who runs the Britches meetings. You remember. The meetings that go on forever about the party we throw on New Year's and drop a gigantic pair of yellow breeches from a huge flagpole? Yeah, those britches meetings.

Well apparently, I'm now in charge. God save us all!!!! This is more proof that little old ladies are truly my kryptonite.

3. Pitch Wars. It's finally wrapping up, but I've been working like a fiend to improve, and I've definitely seen some strides in my writing. My manuscript is so much better, and I'm ready to send it out. After one last nit-picky-completely-obsessive read through. Which I'm still working on.

Then it's getting sent out. To several places that requested it.

Some of said requests came from pitching at the NJ Romance Writer's conference I attended last month.

Then my mom was in visiting from Montana.

And the Urchins are still alive. Which, as you know means I had to take them places. All. The. Time. Still do as a matter of fact.

And the whole time in the back of my head I'm whimpering, But, but, my blogging friends. I wanna go see what they're up to and tweet about them and possibly friend them on Facebook since that massive regime finally broke me and I joined their evil ranks. 

So this is what I feel like at the moment. Me against all that stuff.

via GIPHY


I'm probably not making much of an impression, but I'm not getting taken down by the tentacled monster that is life at the moment.

I'm calling that a win.

So how have you  guys been? Catch me up in the comments!

I'm Not Dead...Yet

Hey guys! My mom is in from Montana, visiting. Since I only get to see her once a year, I''ve been mostly ignoring the internet.

I'm also down to the wire for Pitch Wars. The agent round is November 2. All my stuff has to be in on Halloween. And I'm still working. Every spare second.

So in case you never hear from me again, it's because revisions actually do kill. I will forevermore be a cautionary tale to all writers.

via GIPHY


Until next time, Citizens!

Tooth Fairy Motels and Other Happenings

So there's too much to tell. #PitchWars has been a phenomenal experience. But edits and revising is taking up every spare minute I have. The agent round is November 2nd. And I still have so much to do. (Excuse me a moment while I hyperventilate........Ok, I'm back.)

One of the things that happened a little while back is that Youngest Urchin finally lost a tooth--albeit somewhat unwillingly--that had been hanging on for months. Mostly because she refused to wiggle it, eat on it , breathe on it or otherwise touch it in any way, shape or form.

So the dentist pulled it out at her cleaning. She kept it together. No sobbing. Or biting.

Translation: Win!

So then the real craziness begins. Because the girls don't just put their teeth under their pillow for the tooth fairy. No. They have an entire Tooth Fairy Motel. It's set up 24/7 under Youngest's bottom bunk.

It's even labeled, just in case the Tooth Fairy doesn't know it's for her.

To get to the bed, just slip past the elephant and giraffe on the right.

There is also a tooth pedestal. Again, properly labeled, just in case the Tooth Fairy might have questions.

And of course, there's a note.

It's the note that leads to more work, because the Tooth Fairy writes back. In 5 pt. font. And it's always from a different Tooth Fairy, since there are loads of them. Personalized with a picture of themselves.

You see, I do it to myself. I can't say no to little old ladies or toothless children. It's part of why I'm always over extended.

Like now.

Hope you all are doing well. I'll be trying to hop around to your blogs soon. Once I train myself to write and revise faster. (I'm such a slow writer, it's ridiculous!!)

Until next time, Citizens!!

I Love The Blues

A few years ago I wrote a small post on my admiration for the blues and their creative turns of phrases. But the storytelling that goes on in those songs always astounds me. The vivid descriptions with few words is something I hope to come close to some day in my own writing.

Here's Shemekia Copeland, an outstanding blues singer whom I've admired for years, performing Never Going Back to Memphis.



The full version of this song on her album is a little over seven minutes and well worth it.

My favorite lines-
There wasn't a thing that man couldn't sell ya.

Cops walked in
Dog pullin' on a chain
Lookin' for a woman ran in from the rain
They sat out front eating fried chicken
While I sat shivering in a shed out behind the kitchen.

And that final verse gives me goosebumps
 
The river is risin'
Sky's gettin' darker
My mind keeps playin'
some old Junior Parker
Three days waitin'
All alone by the tracks
Lyin' to myself that man's coming back
He said he'd come around unless he was dead
guess he took another woman or a bullet in the head
I'm never goin' back to Memphis.

I love to listen to the lyrics of a song. The Man usually disregards most of the lyrics and focuses in on the melody. What do you primarily tune in to when listening to music? Are there any songs right now that you're really into? I'd love to expand my repertoire. So lay them on me in the comments.

Quick Update

Hey guys! I know I don't talk a lot about writing on here, so some of you may have forgotten that I actually do write things other than ridiculous Muumuu quests.

So I entered a Twitter contest called #Pitchwars sponsored by @brendadrake. She's amazing, guys. Totally follow her on Twitter. She's amazingly supportive of the writing community and so, so generous.

Anywho, gushing aside, I was chosen to have a mentor to work on my pool hustler manuscript last night. When I found out, I was all like...

via GIPHY

My mentor's name is Natasha Raulerson, and she's awesome, y'all. You can find her on Twitter here @RaulersonWrites.

So I just wanted to share with you all, because you're such a fantastic writing community. Soon there will be more craziness around here on the blog, and tomorrow I'm revealing S. K. Anthony's cover for her upcoming release! So back to your regularly scheduled lives, Citizens!

A Vacation Re-Run

The Quinns are on vacation. So feel for me. I'm camping. At the beach. To some this sounds great. To me? Not so much. Anywho...I'm embarrassed to tell you how long ago this re-run is from.  So just sit back and enjoy my country music song writer envy.

Country music song writers are great storytellers. As you may have read a few posts back, redneck seems to be rubbing off on me because I recently started listening to country music. But I have to say that I've gained a great deal of respect for them this year.

In the past I thought of country music as some kind of twisted joke. I was convinced the old saying was true. What do you get when you play a country song backwards? You get your car back, your wife back, your heart back, your old hound dog back, your house back, etc. I never for a second thought that I'd be appreciative of their skill in setting scenes and evoking emotion with only a few lines. Lines that rhyme to boot! As a writer this fascinates me. These authors create an evocative story that can be told in three minutes. For instance, here's one of my recent favorites penned and sung by Dierks Bentley--What Was I Thinking. Check out this beginning.

Becky was a beauty from south Alabama.
Her Daddy had a heart like a nine pound hammer.
I think he even did a little time in the slammer.
What was I thinkin'?

Those are the first four lines of his hit What Was I Thinkin'? The second line is awesome! Such description! Definite use of hook in my opinion.

Tim McGraw and The Warren Brothers wrote this next one. It's a fictionalized letter prepared by a soldier in case he dies in the line of duty. It's called If You're Reading This, and I can't listen to it because it makes me cry every time, but that doesn't mean I don't love it. Here's a section out of the middle.

If you’re reading this
Half way around the world
I won’t be there to see the birth of our little girl
I hope she looks like you
I hope she fights like me
Stands up for the innocent and the weak
I’m laying down my gun
I’m hanging up my boots
Tell dad I don’t regret that I followed in his shoes

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul
Is where my momma always prayed that it would go
And if you’re reading this
I’m already home

The emotion evoked is stellar. Something I feel that I don't go far enough with in my writing. I can't seem to open up enough, or be courageous enough, to pour my emotions into my writing, which inevitably, I believe, will hold it back.

Here's some great setting and character description from Redneck Yacht Club by Craig Morgan.

Bass-trackers, Bayliners and a party barge,
Strung together like a floating trailer park,
Anchored out and gettin' loud all summer long.
Side by side, there's five houseboat front porches,
Astroturf, lawn chairs and tiki torches.
Regular Joes rocking the boat, that's us:
The Redneck Yacht Club.

Bermuda's, flip-flops and a tank-top tan:
He popped his first top at ten a.m.: that's Bob,
He's our president.

I love the description of their president. Nineteen words, and he's captured. I can completely visualize him.

And as a romance writer, I have to put some sweet stuff in too. Here's the last verse of Little Moments by Brad Paisley.

When she's layin' on my shoulder on the sofa in the dark
And about the time she falls asleep so does my right arm
And I want so bad to move it 'cause it's tinglin' and it's numb
But she looks so much like an angel that I don't wanna wake her up
Yeah I live for little moments
When she steals my heart again and doesn't even know it
Yeah I live for little moments like that

So there's a few examples, all done with an economy of well-chosen words, perfectly strung together. Man, that's something as a writer I definitely am trying to aspire to.

No one who knew me in the past would ever believe that I'd become a country fan. It's got to be that redneck really is contagious. I refuse to believe anything else.

Melissa Maygrove Has A New Release!!

Hi Everybody! Did you know that Melissa Maygrove has a new book? Her second novel, Precious Atonement, is now available! Check it out!!

Precious Atonement is a companion novel to her highly-rated debut titled Come Back.

(You can read her Tongue In Cheek Sea Monkey interview for her first book HERE.)

Ruined women don’t hope, 

killers don’t dream, 

and the dead don’t feel pain.

 

Cover image designed by Carrie Butler

Forward Authority Design Services

Rachel Emerson is resigned to live as a spinster. Her parents keep her shameful secret, and her only brother, Seth, vanished mere days after witnessing her rape, taking her dishonor with him and giving them all an alibi for their grief. But none of that matters. Appearances are useless if she can’t bear the touch of a man.

Jacob Evans welcomes pain as much as he seeks to escape it. The graves of his wife and child remind him of his sins every day. When Lawrence Emerson offers him a job and a chance to move west, Jacob permits himself a fresh start. But letting go of his past is only an illusion. Lawrence’s sweet, shy daughter captures Jacob’s heart and provides him a perfect tool for self-torment.

Despite painful lessons of the past, history soon threatens to repeat itself, and as Jacob’s love for Rachel grows, so does his agony. Giving his precious new wife the life she deserves might cost him the very thing he values most—her.

 ~~~

Precious Atonement 

by Melissa Maygrove

Genre: Western Historical Romance

Category: Adult

Heat level: Hot in places

Released by Truelove Press July 22, 2015

Content warning: Although the moral context of the story is old fashioned, 

Precious Atonement contains descriptions of physical intimacy, adult themes including rape, 

and violence including sexual violence. It is intended for mature readers.

You can find the book here:
Kindle ~ Paperback ~ Nook

And you can find Melissa here:
Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook 
Twitter @MelissaMaygrove

Don't forget to add Precious Atonement to your Goodreads.

To be notified of news and future new releases, sign up for Melissa's newsletter.

Thanks for stopping by the blog, Melissa! Do you know Melissa? Have you participated in her awesome Follow Fest in the past?

Until next time, Citizens!

Is That A Train?

I'm coming to the light at the end of the tunnel, or the end of my rope. Whichever comes first.

Got back yesterday afternoon from chaperoning 30 Girl Scouts through tours of Corning, NY's glass museum and Niagara Falls. It was awesome, yet exhausting.

Now I'm back on the horse getting all the last minute prep stuff done for the final science day. 200 third through fifth graders this time. Possibilities of thundershowers every day, including the day we're scheduled to go. And this morning one of the park naturalists asked if it was possible to change her station so that the kids--all 200 of them--could go into the water and look for macro-invertebrates. Which I would love for them to do. But not with TWO DAYS NOTICE!!!!

So I'm emailing people, including the principal--who has not yet mastered the mystery that is the reply button on said emails--and trying not to lose my ever loving mind.

Writing, you say? What writing? Is there such a thing? Why yes, yes there is. Just not a lot of it going on at Chez Quinn at the moment.*

But there will be.

Soon.

I'm determined.

Book revisions. Blog posts that are funny and not complaints. IT WILL HAPPEN. Very. Soon.

You've been warned, Citizens.

For now, I have to get back to drowning in crazy. Thanks for stopping by! Come again!



*Two weeks ago I was in writing paradise-aka writing retreat. MUCH revising got done then, just not this week. Next week? Look out!

Have You Heard The News?

Hi, everybody! I hinted two posts ago that I had some news. Some of you saw it on Twitter earlier this week, but in case you missed it, I wanted to let you know that I signed with Patricia Nelson of the Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

I got The Call on January 23rd. And I did a lot of nervous talking. I'd been terrified anxiety-ridden worried that I wouldn't remember to be home to take the call. I know. You scoff, but after sleeping through not one, but two college finals, I've learned to be uber vigilant. So to remind myself and to smile whenever I passed it, I wrote it on our chalkboard.

The Urchins decorated it for me.

I'm really excited to be working with Patricia and to be a part of MLLA. I'll be starting revisions soon, which I'm looking forward to. I'm one of those deranged psychopathic polka-loving super villainous weird people who loves editing more than drafting.

It's only been five days since I signed, and now that some of the euphoria has let up, the ohmygodareyoucrazy has started to scratch at my back door. Those terrifying what ifs. What if I can't write the next book? What if everyone hates a pool hustler heroine? (It did get rejected by a publisher last month because of that.) What if I can't pull off book three? Or four for that matter?!? JEEZ What was I thinking? Someone get me a paper bag to breathe in. STAT!!



 But it hasn't escalated to total paralysis yet, so... yay!

I still have the science days that I'm planning for the Urchins' schools to do in the next few months. Which takes a lot of my time, but not as much as last year.

Now I have to talk myself into cutting back on all the volunteering I do. Speaking of which, I never did show pictures from the New Year's Eve Breeches Drop. Below, find Baby Breeches, the smaller yellow breeches that are dropped for the kids' count down at 10pm.

Lit up pants being lowered. No, the blue-haired old ladies weren't lit when they thought of this idea.

So that's the big news. I'm still in shock. Tomorrow I have my writers' meeting and will do a little celebrating there. And The Man will be taking the Urchins and myself out to dinner next week to officially celebrate my agented status.

I hope you guys have a fantastic weekend! And know that the craziness will be returning to Tongue In Cheek soon. Especially since I have a new obsession. No, not sideburn art. Not yarn bombing by vigilante knitters either. You'll just have to wait and see.

Until next time, Citizens!!

There's An Old Saying...

When you're ass deep in alligators, you tend to forget that your original job was to drain the swamp.

That about sums up life over here at Chez Quinn. Urchins are still sick. Youngest also has an infected ingrown toenail. My father-in-law was in the hospital again, but has been discharged. Two full critiques to finish before the end of the month. And Environmental Field Day.

What's that last one? (Feel free to skip this boring paragraph and watch the video below. It says the same thing, only differently.) 140 first and second graders one day. 190 3rd - 5th graders another. I write a curriculum for each on an environmental theme. Same topic, different age appropriate activities. I shop for all supplies, but create most from scratch. All outdoors at the local state park. 20 or so volunteers to make it work. 10 teachers. 4 buses. I'm in the activity and learning creation stage right now. Lots of research and lesson planning. When I can find the time.



But I'm refusing to let the Tongue In Cheek Year In Review Post be one day later than it is. So without further whiny excuses, here it is.

2014 Tongue In Cheek Year In Review

January
I revealed that I got an R and R from a publisher and asked you all to chime in on how to achieve balance in my life. I heeded all of your advice, applied it and am now a better person. (see above. Then see name of this blog.) I also went on a convoluted, conspiracy ridden tangent on why people should start wearing desks as the ultimate wardrobe accessory. I also did the 2013 Year in Review, and posted two reruns featuring Elvis sightings and dangerous polkas.

February
I lost a wonderful friend to ALS. I took notes on how to party hard from the 3 year olds and wished I could sport a rockin' diet coke mustache. I shared the conversation I had with my youngest Urchin in the public restroom about best uses of The Force for toilet flushing. And I expounded on the intimate relationship I was developing with the spinning beach ball of death on my dying computer. Among other things.

March
I wondered if I should AtoZ. I got a new computer. (yay!) I wished everyone a Happy St. Patrick's day via certain Muppets singing Danny Boy. Then the Scottish had their hilarious, bawdy say. I revealed my AtoZ theme, asking all the probing questions that arise here at Tongue in Cheek re: Polkapocalypses, 'Possum Queens, super villany, etc. And I shared something beautiful.

April
April was the A to Z Challenge. I am so glad I participated (but I won't be able to this year). My theme was "She Actually Posted That?-The best reruns this blog has to offer." There was super villainy, Hostile Polka takeovers, Zombie Stinkbugs, The merits of the mullet, my tribute to sideburn art, awkward taxidermy, conspiracy theories linking Bratz dolls to the imminent alien invasion, much 'Possum Queenin' and lots more of the run of the mill craziness that ensues here at Tongue In Cheek. And a good time was had by most.

May
Author interviews prevailed during the merry, merry month of May. Melissa Maygrove, Sara Walter Ellwood, and Victoria Smith all rocked the Sea Monkey SAT portion of the interview. I tortured harangued took complete advantage of The Man as he was trapped in the mini van with me for four hours by bouncing ideas off him about a plot point for my next book. The conversation went like most of our conversations. Those of you who've been around a while, know what I mean. I also went to paradise, aka writers' retreat.

June
The fabulous Marci Koski nominated me for a Liebster Award. I accepted. With vigor. And a side of crazy, but you guessed that already, I'm sure. I helped reveal Carol Kilgore's cover for Secrets of Honor. Beautimous! And I treated you all to another rerun. Wasn't that nice of me?

July
I found out that Earth has a club. And most likely a manifesto. A long one. Crystal Collier revealed her cover for Soulless. Gorgeous! I reposted an enduring question for the ages and used Barbie, Ken, GI Joe and The Princess Bride to illustrate it. Then I gave you a rerun in which we have even more fun with taxidermied squirrels. Plus lamented about the difficulties that dog every one of The Urchins' birthday parties. All while I was camping for two weeks. ...Why are you looking at me that way?

August
I was kidnapped by Carnies. And then some other stuff happened.

September
While on vacation, I saved my family from a goat reeking devil phone pole. When asked to describe myself for the wonderful Melissa Maygrove's Follow Fest, I wrote, "I recently escaped from evil kidnapping carny folk. I love roller derby, the hermetically sealed environs of my happy place and riding my motorcycle."

October
I asked for advice on how to hide all my crazy when talking to agents and editors at the NJRW conference. And then I took you on an unholy trek to the land of hideous mumus. And it was epic.

November
Crystal Collier traversed the author interview and Sea Monkey SATs. I shared how I mercilessly tortured Peeps over a campfire, and I related a crazy childhood story to illustrate the power of words. Among other things.

December
I was very distracted. I wished you Merry Christmas using Elvis. And I shared the concept of one word new years resolutions. All while presiding over the infamous New Year's Eve Breeches Drop hosted by the blue haired old ladies and their overworked minion. (me)

So that's all the crazy of 2014 in a really huge nutshell. Thanks for coming along for the ride!

As for 2015, I may have some really exciting news to reveal in the next couple of weeks.

AAAANND, Loni Townsend will be here next month to take the Tongue In Cheek author interview, complete with Sea Monkey SATs. Be sure to stop in to check it out.

Until next time, Citizens!

Happy New Year, Citizens!

Happy New Year, everyone! Sorry I haven't been around on the interwebs as much as usual. The culmination of a year's worth of meetings presided over by those iron-fisted, yet extremely rambly blue haired old ladies is finally coming to fruition tonight. Yes, the ginormous breeches are dropping.

I've been running around getting ready for the kids crafts I'll be running for the night and picking up last minute items for the committee. Because the big drop is tonight!

The Urchins are predictably and massively whipped up. I'm trying to channel all that excitement into thank you cards. Somehow there doesn't seem to be a good translation from UBER EXCITING FUN WAAAAAY PAST OUR NORMAL BEDTIME!!! to sit and with grateful heart, thank your Great Great Aunt Emily for the check she sent you. Go figure.

Anywho, I tweeted earlier this week while I was slaving away at Staples prepping one of the crafts for tonight, and I thought I'd share.

Pictured above are one-word resolutions and wishes for the new year. The writer in me really liked the idea of choosing one word to describe goals and wishes for the entire year. It cuts down the extraneous distractions that get me every time (ooh! Is that a chicken over there?) to a laser sharp idea.

Write

Read

Create

It's not a replacement for definable goals, but more like a mantra or billboard reminder of what it is you truly want to accomplish.

So as we leave 2014 behind, what are some words you'd like to focus on in 2015?

Have a safe and wonderful New Year's Eve!! I'll be back in 2015 with the NYE drop recap and the 2014 year in review. Until then, Citizens!

Distracted

Is there some holiday coming up soon? Every once in a while as I come up for air I hear something about it. I know for a fact that The Urchins want in on it. Just can't put my finger on what it is...

I've been a bit distracted lately. The blue-haired old ladies have commandeered much of my spare time. I'm sure I've mentioned once or twice that little old ladies are my personal Kryptonite. These particular ones run long, rambly meetings and send me all over town on errands for the New Year's Eve Drop they do for the community each year. (They drop pants from a flagpole. I kid you not.) I'm in charge of children's crafts and games, among other things.

I've also been playing the "Where's My Spy Camera Game" for the past month.



Refreshing my email every twenty-seven seconds to see if the people who requested my manuscript have rejected me yet has my nerves frazzled. It hasn't done much good for my sleeping habits either.

Most of my writing efforts have been used up on refraining myself from re-editing the manuscript I submitted. That's been an effort of Herculean proportions. So I've been focusing on how to improve my query letter for when the rejections come. I'm not pleased with the second paragraph describing Ethan. It seems choppy, but I've looked at it too many times to make improvements. Though I wouldn't be adverse to suggestions in the comments. ;)

Searching for home…

Weary pool hustler Sheridan Ward craves a normal life. Her ticket out? A high stakes underground tournament. Working her way across Texas from honkytonk to pool hall and all shady points between, she’s almost earned enough for the buy-in. Until she hustles some good ole boys who aren’t so good. Now she’s got an injured wrist, a truck that’s trashed, and a handsome sheriff dogging her to press charges.

Searching for justice…

Sheriff Ethan Bankert doesn’t have time for a woman. But the beautiful hustler picked the wrong men to con. He should know—they’re the main suspects in his father’s murder. A case that’s gone cold. Whether she wants to believe him or not, tangling with them has painted a bulls-eye on her back. Now, with Sheridan under his roof, protective custody takes on a whole new meaning. If he could just convince her to press charges, not only could he keep her safe, it would be the opening he’s been looking for to continue his investigation.

Searching for forever…

As their nights heat up, Sheridan’s walls of distrust start to crumble, but this sexy-as-sin sheriff still won’t convince her to step foot in a courtroom again. Not after the humiliation she went through there as a child. The road is calling as her last big score nears. Never mind that since she stumbled into this town her deepest dreams have grown to encompass a life with Ethan.

But their future is jeopardized by the same threat that ended his father’s life. Only this time, it’s Sheridan in the crosshairs.

A SHOT AT FOREVER is a 97,000 word adult contemporary romance, and the first stand-alone book in my series of Hard To Tame Heroines set in small town Texas. I am a member of RWA and the former (2013) president of my local chapter. A SHOT AT FOREVER was a finalist in the 2013 Sheila Contest held by the Valley Forge Romance Writers.

~~*~~

Present shopping and wrapping, Christmas play practices, not to mention the frightening levels of Christmas-crazy enveloping the three year olds I teach have all taken their toll. I'm frazzled and jittery and a donkey on the edge.

So as this wonderful holiday approaches at warp factor 8, I hope you all have the opportunity to enjoy your time. Don't be like me and let the outside world avalanche down around your ears.

Wishing you all peace and happiness and


Until next time, Citizens!

Giving The Power Of Words

When we were young, my older brother and I loved to get mail. I can remember races to the death involving so much illegal tackling and shirt holding that we would have been banned from the NFL for life.

Just to see if we got any mail.

You can imagine the mountain of mail a six and nine year old child would get on a normal business day. So, after the winner of the Battle Royale--bloodied and bruised, and walking with a severe limp--would bring the mail to dear old Mom, the disappointment on our injured faces would be almost comical.

But still we loved to get mail. So much so, that we would fight over any junk mail that would be shuffled in with the bills, correspondence and catalogs. As Mom would flip through it all, two youngsters, jockeying for position while covertly throwing elbows, would ask, “Can I have that?” Until a chorus of Canihavethat?Canihavethat?Canihavethats echoed after even the slightest twitch of her fingers.

So, necessity being the mother of invention, (and my mom the most inventive of them all) in her infinite wisdom decreed that forever forward I would be known as Occupant and my brother, Resident.

With our new titles, our Canihavethats turned into “C’mon, occupant” or “resident resident resident” being beseeched under our breaths with more inner cosmic force than the worst Vegas slot machine addict ever known. Fingers, toes, legs and eyes were all crossed to endear ourselves to the luck and mail gods of the universe who, obviously, mandated the writing of "occupant" or "resident" on all junk mail.

Hardened gamblers at the racetrack had nothing on us. The anticipation as our eyes watched Mom’s every movement while she flipped through the stack. The gleeful dances of the one who got lucky. The sick disappointment of the one who walked away empty handed. To live or die at the whim of companies’ advertising department, only to start it all over the next day.

Good times.

I relate that embarrassing childhood story to punctuate the power of the written word. As authors, we're already well aware of that power and strive to wield it as we create our stories. But more specifically, I refer to the power of a letter. The written word purposefully given to another.

Authors use their time and talent to entertain and inform the masses. They can also use those same skills to lift the spirit, boost morale and deliver hope to another person. There are lots of websites that offer that opportunity to anyone, not just writing professionals.

Anysoldier.com, Soldiersangels.org, uso.org, letterstosoldiers.org, are all organizations that provide addresses for you to write a soldier stationed in a combat zone. Saying thank you, showing your appreciation, or just a friendly hello are all powerful ways for authors to use their gifts.

You can write anonymous love letters to people who are going through terrible tragedies.

Or, if you’re brave enough, you can even write an inmate. WriteAPrisoner.com will set you up with a male or female inmate to become pen pals with.

Just a little reminder  during this time of thanks and giving that the power of the written word distributed to the masses or to a single person each create an impact in their own unique way. So if you’re looking for a special project, and volunteering at a homeless shelter, soup kitchen or food bank isn't up your alley, here is a way in which you can make a difference without even having to leave your own home.

And who knows, you just may inspire a gleeful victory dance from the recipient.

An Explanation And Some Crazy

I haven't been out on the interwebs recently. I'm actually still not over my bronchitis completely, and it's left me pretty exhausted. I of course haven't slowed down in real life, so when I'd sit for a moment to visit all you cool cats in the virtual world, I would  promptly fall asleep.

Also, I got some pretty big nibbles on A Shot At Forever at the NJ conference I attended last month. I sent out three requests for fulls to major houses this week, and I just sent the full to a NY agent. (As in right now. She emailed me at 4:59pm and I sent it at 5:21 pm.) EEK!!! I'd also sent queries to four other agents on Thursday. So I've been sludging through this illness, trying to remind myself that my mc, Sheridan, drives a pickup truck, not a unicorn as I got submission packets ready. 

So with my excuses out of the way, are you ready for the crazy? Remember my Trek Into The Unholy Land Of Hideous Mumus? Of course you do. Well, before we left last July on that two week rustic camping trip, I was overly determined (Nice way of saying crazy-eyed and almost demented) to use the last of the Easter Peeps.

Okay, yes, we had an overabundance of Peeps. And yes, in a slightly roundabout way that was my fault.

1. I don't like to eat Peeps.
2. I can't resist their marketing.

They were offering adorable stuffed animal peeps in a package of eight to ten marshmallow Peeps. These stuffed animals were so stinking cute, I couldn't resist.

(Damn you sophisticated marketing gurus! I've fallen into your marshmallowy clutches again!
As such.)

How can you resist a sparkly, speckled Peep in a Santa hat? I mean, c'mon!!

So now I'm back in the same boat. I'm in a destructive cycle. We have ten peppermint Peeps that I won't touch and will only ration sparingly to the rest of my family since they're nothing but unadulterated sugar.

Which leads to disgruntledness from all fronts. The family because there's Peeps to be had, and I won't dole them out.

Me because packages of Peeps are cluttering up my already severely cluttered domicile. AND since I was raised like I was a child in the 1940s who just barely survived the Great Depression, I cannot willingly dispose of them without bursting into flaming hives of guilt.

So to solve my problem, I took them camping. And tortured them over the campfire as they'd done to me since April.

Revenge! REVENGE!! (said like K-K-K-Ken from A Fish Called Wanda*

 The Urchins, wonderful Urchins that they are, assured me they were delicious.


*

A Craziness Level Update and Other Stuff

I won't be offended if you skip to the fun part. But for now...

Craziness Update:
I'm almost over my stomach bug I picked up last week.
It still didn't stop me from taking the Urchins to their all-day corn maze Girl Scout event in the rain yesterday.
Tonight, they're in the Halloween parade with the Girl Scouts, and I'm picking up my mom at the airport. We will then be driving straight to the parade.
Tomorrow, dropping Mom off at the train station before work.
And I'm still trying to pack and get ready for the NJRW conference on Thursday.

Speaking of the conference, that's the other stuff.

I will be leaving early Thursday afternoon. (The chimney sweep had better be here and gone before that time on Thursday.)

I will be having either an agent or editor appointment. So I need advice on how not to blurt out any of my crazy conspiracy theories in the ten minutes I get to talk to one of them.

What? You, Ava? Conspiracy theories? Never!

Ahem. As such.

Bratz Dolls as the precursor to the alien invasion.

The inherent and obvious dangers of polka music.

The contagious properties of redneck.

Do I need to go on?

I also have the Lloyd Dobler nervous talking thing. You know, Say Anything?




Except my verbal diarrhea would probably include, but not be limited to, polkappocalypses, carny folk, my 'Possum Queen reign, sea monkey warfare, the many uses of taxidermied squirrels, and the high number of people in history who have been shanghaied by Sasquatches.

So I now have to figure out how to shove my crazy down and act normally. Hmmm. Should be a challenge. Wish me luck!

Slacker or Burnout?

So, hello everyone. (chirp-chirp-chirp)

Okay, yes, I deserved that, I guess. I've been a slacker. But not completely.

I'm burnt out. On so many things, that I haven't had much joy or even energy to do anything that isn't absolutely necessary. I run my Urchins to their thousand things. I work with the three-year-olds from the Black Lagoon.  I take care of the house. I participate on the committees. I work on trying to schedule those crazy outdoor educational days that I plan, create, organize and run for my daughters' two schools. I toil for the blue-haired-old ladies.

Monday afternoon I went into Youngest Urchin's second grade class and crushed soda cans with air pressure and forced hard boiled eggs into jars using nothing but air. Taught about the water cycle in cool and innovative ways. But it felt like a chore. And I LOVE science. Especially when I get to teach it to young 'uns.

I'm crispy.

My writing is stalling, though part of that is due to waiting for feedback from two crit partners, but I know I should be plotting the next book and jumping on the edits I already received back. But, I'm tired and fatigued with the story and I have to take the Urchins to their next stop and...and...and...

I haven't even finished blogging about my camping vacation from back in July. And I promise you, more happened than just goat-reeking devil phone poles. There was the terrible journey to the unholy land of hideous mumus. Not to mention the sadistic torture of marshmallow Peeps. But do you see the name up there? Tongue in Cheek. I just haven't been able to find the fun, let alone channel it. So I haven't blogged.

I've had some good news. I got nice feedback from an editor at Harlequin on the first 500 words of my book. I'm headed to the NJRW conference next week and will be pitching it to either an agent or editor. But I'm not nervous or even excited about that prospect.

I've been doing a bunch of taking care of others, but not myself. Which is my M.O.

So instead of bringing you along with me to that unholy land I mentioned earlier, I'll leave you with an excerpt from the end of chapter 4 in A Shot At Forever. The hero, Ethan, just broke up an ugly situation at the pool table where Sheridan's marks figured out she was hustling them. Instead of running her out of town like she expects, he asks her to dinner.

-->

            She froze. He could tell that wasn’t what she’d expected him to say as she slowly turned to face him. Even with her eyes narrowed in distrust, he couldn’t stop thinking how pretty she was. Tapping her hat against her leg, she regarded him for a moment. He held his breath and hoped like hell he passed muster. Her gaze drifted down his entire frame before leisurely traveling back up and Ethan felt the pass of her eyes clear to his bones.

“Sorry, but I never mix business with pleasure.” She settled the hat on her head and turned to go.

            “But what about last night?”

She stopped but didn’t turn fully toward him. “Last night I didn’t know you were a lawman.”

Certain he’d never see her again if she walked out that door, he heaved in a deep breath and laid his cards on the table. “Look, yes, I’m the sheriff. But I wouldn’t be taking you out as the sheriff. I’d be taking you out because as a man, I recognize you’re the best thing that’s walked in here in more years than I can count, and after having you in my arms I can’t imagine never getting to do that again.”

He winced when he heard how that sounded. Tugging off his cowboy hat, he dragged his fingers through his hair before moving to face her head on. “I think you’re a helluva woman, Sheridan, and I’d be honored if you’d let me take you to dinner.” He looked steadily into her hazel eyes and silently willed her to see the earnest plea he knew resounded in his own.

            As her sharp assessing gaze took the measure of him, he stood stock still, gripping his hat with bloodless fingers. Confusion and what looked like hope flashed briefly over her features before they went blank and stony again.

            “Sorry Sheriff, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

            Ethan clasped her hand in his. “Please, Sheridan. At least let me buy you a drink to show you the whole town isn’t like that bunch of jackasses you played pool with tonight.”

            She bit her lip as she turned and looked at the exit, then back down to where their hands were connected. Her gaze slowly traveled up the length of his arm, finally reaching his face. As she stood there looking up at him through her lashes, a surge of emotions he thought long dead crashed through his body.

            Gently, Sheridan pulled her hand away, and it was all he could do not to snatch it back. Still biting her lip, she regarded him with a hopeful expression, but it didn’t last. A deep sadness fell over her face, weighing down her shoulders, and then that blank mask was back. Ethan’s heart sank as she pulled her cowboy hat down over her forehead, shadowing her eyes from his view.

            “Thanks, but no thanks…Ethan.” Her last word was softer than the others, but it hit him like a hammer blow. Before he could respond, she disappeared into the crowd.

Hope you guys are taking better care of yourself than I am. Until next time, Citizens where we venture into truly unholy lands.

It's Follow Fest Time!

 Hi everybody! At this point right now, I wish I were still kidnapped by carny folk. It'd definitely be easier being the bearded lady than what's going on at Casa de Quinn at the moment. Which is why I'm so late to THIS party!

The fabulous Melissa Maygrove has brought us Follow Fest again!! She's so awesome. So in the tiny moments of sanity, which were few and very far between, I pulled together my post. Be sure to click on the graphic below and see all the awesome participants.

Blog button designed by Carrie Butler.

Name: Ava Quinn

Fiction or nonfiction? Fiction

What genres do you write? Romance, baby! Contemporary Western.

Are you published? Not yet.

Do you do anything in addition to writing?

I'm the web mistress and children's game and crafts coordinator for our township's New Year's Eve drop where they drop their pants. Yes, five foot tall yellow breeches. From a huge flag pole. I kid you not.

Tell us a little about yourself.

Last year I said I mommed. Which I still do. (Yes, momming is a verb.) I now also teach preschool (3 year olds) part time and write whenever I can. I blog about crazy nonsense that goes on in my world. (Polkappocalypse, anyone?) I recently escaped from evil kidnapping carny folk. I love roller derby, the hermetically sealed environs of my happy place and riding my motorcycle.

What are you reading right now? I'm doing a bunch of "the craft of writing" related reading and just finished up a critique for a friend.

Which authors influenced you the most? The authors from my local writing group: Delynn Royer, Natalie Damschroder, Susan Gourley, and Misty Simon.They've been so generous with their time.

Where can people connect with you?

Blog

 Right here at Tongue In Cheek readavaquinn.blogspot.com

Twitter @AvaQuinnWrites

Facebook- Still not on Facebook. Am I the only one left on the planet not on there?

Goodreads Ava Quinn

Google+ Ava Quinn

LinkedIn Ava Quinn

Sick of seeing my name yet?

Website avaquinn.com

Is there anything else you’d like us to know? 
 I have a crazy author interview, complete with a Sea Monkey SAT portion. So hit me up if you're promoting! Thanks for stopping by and checking out all my crazy. Sorry if I got any on you. If I did, it was completely accidental.

A Very Important Question

Hi everyone. I'm still on vacation. Camping. **bone wracking shudders** Here's hoping we all survive. So until I return, I'm leaving you with a rerun from 2010 which asks the question:

Tell Me Which You Would - The Bad or the Good?

How did it get to be Friday already? I'm having trouble getting that little factoid into my brain. I finished my dreaded synopsis of Shifting Her World. Thank you for all your help Misty and Natalie! You know I've had a pretty good writing week if there aren't many posts. Anywho, check out this video. It got me to a-wonderin'.



I loved this commercial when it came out back in the day, mainly for the Van Halen. Yet it was funny, too, and G.I. Joe completely out-cooled Ken.

But here's what I wondered. The Bad Boy. Do you prefer the Bad Boy(or Girl) Hero or the Good Guy(or girl) Hero? I'm split. I write both. I enjoy reading both if they're well rounded. But deep down I think if I was held over a pit of bubbling tar and told to choose, I would go with the good guy. But only if placed under some such duress. (Molten lava would get me to sing on this topic as well.)

So which type of hero would be your favorite as you dangle precariously over the pit? And, remember, this is for posterity, so be honest.

Crystal Collier Soulless Cover Reveal

 The cheese-tastic Crystal Collier has done it again! Take a look at her little beauty that 's coming this October. 

 Have you met the Soulless and Passionate? In the world of 1770 where supernatural beings mix with humanity, Alexia is playing a deadly game.

SOULLESS, Book 2 in the Maiden of Time trilogy

Alexia manipulated time to save the man of her dreams, and lost her best friend to red-eyed wraiths. Still grieving, she struggles to reconcile her loss with what was gained: her impending marriage. But when her wedding is destroyed by the Soulless—who then steal the only protection her people have—she's forced to unleash her true power.

And risk losing everything.

What people are saying about this series: 

"With a completely unique plot that keeps you guessing and interested, it brings you close to the characters, sympathizing with them and understanding their trials and tribulations." --SC, Amazon reviewer

"It's clean, classy and supernaturally packed with suspense, longing, intrigue and magic." --Jill Jennings, TX

"SWOON." --Sherlyn, Mermaid with a Book Reviewer

Crystal Collier is a young adult author who pens dark fantasy, historical, and romance hybrids. She can be found practicing her brother-induced ninja skills while teaching children or madly typing about fantastic and impossible creatures. She has lived from coast to coast and now calls Florida home with her creative husband, three littles, and “friend" (a.k.a. the zombie locked in her closet). Secretly, she dreams of world domination and a bottomless supply of cheese. You can find her on her blog and Facebook, or follow her on Twitter.

COMING October 13, 2014

PREORDER your print copy

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Welcome To Club Earth

So The Man, the Urchins and I visited some beautiful local caverns recently. We, of course, hit the gift shop-- where we saw this display.

Didn't know there was a membership, though I should have suspected since I've been paying dues.

Apparently this club has an agenda.

And probably a manifesto. A long one.

So the Urchins and The Man are all home for the summer and there are many distractions.

I'm getting scary-obsessive with finishing my edits, and I'm finding things out about myself as I do. Not much of it good. (I never knew I was prone to wild mood swings and such violent thoughts.) Considering I'm all paid up with my Club Earth dues, here's hoping everyone survives.

So what are you doing this summer? Any crazy editing induced violence/craziness you'd like to share? I'm all ears. (said like Dolf in that Van Damme movie.)