Weekly Photo Challenge: Silhouette
They’ve flown south now for the winter. The last bottle of red colored sucrose hangs fermenting. The Petunia and Morning Glory have bid them farewell as the Four O’clock and Salvia prepare to sleep.
Seed and root resting in the shadow of nature’s understanding.
Oh that I might fly with you..
Until the next Equinox, buenas noches little bird.
A Brief Moment of Rest
What do Book Trailers have in common with the 80’s? Apparently not much.
Book trailers are not a new thing, they’re just fairly new to me. But then so is the world I wake up in everyday.
Faith, aka helpy-helper recently introduced me to book trailers. By introduced I mean she gave me a tongue lashing that ended in, “Good lord woman get with the program.1982 is long gone.”
“You don’t have to keep reminding me of that.” I whimpered.
I am not one to pine for my prime it’s just that my mind often resides in yesterday. Okay the yesterday of three decades ago. [sigh] Anywho…
Book trailers? I totally did not understand the concept. Books made into movies, sure. I’m down with that – but book TRAILERS? Really?
I said, “Faith you must be trippin.” She assured me that was not possible as she was planted firmly in her chair. “No one really looks at those things, do they?” I asked. I honestly didn’t think they did until she directed me to a few sites all the while explaining view counts.
“Well f*ck me runnin!” I giggled, then helpy-helper smacked me. She will not abide my cursing. Good for her.
After 90 minutes of browsing I admitted I liked quite a few of them, especially the talking paper-dolls. I couldn’t tell you what book was being promoted but those little paper people were sooo cute! There were several animations that were entertaining as well, you know where the drawing occurs along with the narration? What do you call that? Idk. There were a lot of really good slide shows too. I call them slide shows, someone can correct me later. I do not care much for the cinema effects except for one or two trailers. One being Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. It was really good. No, I do not know the creator or the author.
Did it make me want to buy the book? Heck no, it made me want him to finish telling the bloody story!
I am by no means an expert, on the contrary my knowledge of what goes into making an effective trailer can be stored in a thimble. But I do have an opinion and this is mine – which if added to a ten dollar bill will get you a bagel and small latte.
Thank you Faith.
What Faith accomplished was getting me past my prior prejudice. My assumption that audio and actors were not to be interbred with reading. That imposing visuals onto a book would hinder the imaginative experience. Yeah, I know. Faith is younger, prettier and hipper smarter than me. We have completed six slide-shows now and two of them I actually like. When I figure out how to work youtube (other than how to click on view) I plan to do a couple on my own. Maybe I’ll make my own movie.
Yes! I’ll brush the dust off of my rabbit coat (carefully so the fur doesn’t fall out in clumps), get my big hair going with maybe some hotdog bangs – no, scratch the bangs. Pump up the jam and dance, oh yes it ladies night and the feelings right, oh yes it’s ladies night oh what a night -ohh what a ni-i-ight.
I’m kidding, I lost my rabbit fur coat a long time ago. 🙂
But I am curious. What do others really think of book trailers? Do they convince you to buy the book? Do you watch them strictly for entertainment? Can anyone recommend a great one?
No Authors Allowed (Here’s Your Sign)
That is sort of a contradictory title because I made this sign just for you 🙂
This is really about reader feedback and what NOT to do.
I enjoy re
ader feedback. What writer doesn’t? I encourage it and welcome even the antagonistic.
Negative reviews don’t tend to bother me either, keeping in mind negative is not always a bad thing.
Those reviews can actually be quite beneficial. A negative review might alert the author or their representative to unknown errors, loose ends or confusing plots.
Readers are a good thing and many have a wealth of expertise to offer, so writer don’t get hoity toity and remember this:
Authors are expected to overlook bad reviews as part of this chosen profession. It is considered taboo and unprofessional for an author to respond to any review. Reviews are for readers.
I truly believe in that philosophy and for the most part have upheld that belief.
I said for the most part. However…
First in my own defense let me say (that means I know I screwed up)
I have deleted many emails without replying that were riddled with crude remarks. I have even laughed at a few. Especially those that have nothing to do with my writing. Some people are way too comfortable sitting in their boxers behind a computer screen and a screen name.
A lot of them are rather funny and a few are just… heck. Take Rita Fay for example. She (if that is her real name and she is really a she) was kind enough to send me an email that said “You have a big Irish head.”
???
I don’t know what that has to do with anything I’ve written, but okay.
Honestly I thought it was one of my sisters pulling a prank. Sadly, it was not. Even sadder, it is true – I do have a big Irish head. Rita was only making an observation. 😦 I know. My response? Delete.
Do I get a brownie point to offset what followed? No.
A few days ago I received an email that read:
Dear Janet Hill,
In reading your book I have made the following observances: you are unlearned, unladylike, your vocabulary is foul and you are grammatically challenged to say the least. I suggest you return to your nursing vocation where less cognitive thought is required.
Mr. xxxxxxxx
Boing! Ouch! I’m not sure why that stung more than the remark about my over-sized cranium but it did. It really REALLY struck a nerve. I had typed as much as “bite me you hateful bastard. You don’t have any idea what it takes to be a nurse and by the way my name is Janna, not Janet you dumb ass!” before catching myself. Delete. That would have certainly proved his point, wouldn’t it? So I took a deep breath and a long walk. Occasionally I paused to smell the flowers kick-box the air and walked farther until I had re-composed my normally genteel demeanor. When I was completely calm I walked back to my desk and replied.
Dear Mr. X,
It was quiet generous of you to spare a moment of your time and share your thoughts on my authoring abilities. Please accept my utmost apology if I have offended you, that was not my intention. You may also rest assured I have given much consideration to your observances while reflecting upon my personal faults and have come to this conclusion: you sir, are not qualified to read my book.
I know! That was a totally self-saboteur smart alack response. But que sera, sera y’all. There was no looking back; it was too late to detour. I had hit send, spilled the milk, broke the glass and lit the match. In the ashes of after thoughts I knew I’d messed up and wondered is this another bridge burned? “Time will tell” I assured myself.
Well I am delighted to tell you I have found a fan and a friend in Mr. X. He promptly replied with an apology and an obvious chuckle. I could almost hear him laughing at his own mischief when I read:
Dear Janna,
My sincerest apologies for ruffling your lovely feathers. I enjoyed your book. Actually I have enjoyed several of your books and wondered which persona might be closest to your personality. Every author breathes their own life into the cast; whether or not an author will admit that is a different topic. I was curious as well to know if you were truly southern or merely using that as a selling point. I am satisfied that you are genuine. Please forgive an ornery old man for having a wicked laugh at your expense.
Sincerely,
P.S. A thing you must learn for your own well being is this: commentators have individual motives, some write simply for the sport of it.
Whew! I dodged my own bullet.
So, have I changed my belief that authors should not reply? No! This turnout was a rare example. A short note saying thank you to a compliment? Sure, for me that is considered polite. But to respond to ridicule (in a public forum or private e mail) is bad practice. My retaliation could have had dire consequences especially for an unknown indie trying to build a fan base. Word spreads quickly among reader communities, especially if you anger someone who has 4899 followers. I was wrong to reply.
What was I thinking when I said “you sir are not qualified to read my book.”? I wasn’t! Even though I thought I had calmed down, I hadn’t. If I had been calm and rational I would have never hit that send button.
Writers are Bizarre, oh yes they are. I feel certain the majority of authors know this – those who don’t have not yet had their epiphany or come to terms with the fact. If the truth be told they are more than strange, they are obsessive odd balls bordering on schizophrenia. I suspect many have prescriptions but refuse to take the psychotropic medication because it hinders their creativity. They need to feel alive; to interact with the personalities dueling inside their heads, not subdue them. Their characters must be allowed a chance at life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as well as the right to die.
Writers are bizarre, oh yes they are. From my observations this peculiarity seems to afflict creative writers especially. Creative writers and poets. Oh, poets are creative writers? Okay. Poets are a also a grievous lot. They are constantly imagining, seeing, and feeling or thinking. They are a curious hand with six digits and a raw nerve. Most of them are bereaved with some sort of incurable pain. Odd thing is it’s usually not their pain but the aches of every one and every thing around them as if they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. On occasion one will write about the joy or beauty found in something. Usually that something is what the rest of earth’s inhabitants dismiss or take for granted on a daily basis.
Writers are bizarre, oh yes indeed they are. They carve out niches for indolent thoughts, sow seeds of cerebration, offer rest to weary secrets, and give birth to imagination.
Now what sort of world would this be without these flaky, freakish, alien-like individuals?
Gone would be the greens and reds, lost to slow decay. In place of all the rainbows bled – a shade of muted gray.
Can’t live with `em- Can’t live without `em.
Bee’s are beneficial. We wouldn’t have our delicious honey without them and plants would become extinct without their pollinating expertise. But when we are not willing to share our home with them… what to do?
To bee or not to bee?
The local beekeepers won’t take them for fear of their “being Africanized” meaning they may have crossed with the dreaded, aggressive African honeybee. They don’t appear aggressive to me but what do I know? Nada!
The last professional removed a comb from the flooring of the house (that sits on stilts in South Texas) and sprayed some sort of “poison” to deter them. I soaked the area in vinegar and I was the only creature bothered by it.
We have plugged any holes we found to keep them out of the house but they continually swarm beneath the house. They want in! I want them alive and happy, I just don’t want them as roommates. It’s my vacation home maybe they think they have seniority being full time residents?
[Sigh] I just want them to go away. Any advice?
Last week my husband phoned form work at 7:30 A.M and said “start packing.” I didn’t question him I just threw a few suits of clothing into a suitcase along with the laptop and camera, gathered up the dog’s bare essentials and waited. He had been talking about heading south when October’s first cold front came through to do a little fishing but his work schedule did not look agreeable. Apparently something changed and he seized the moment.
“Carpe diem!” I said. “I don’t care for Carp – I’m after a Redfish.” He replied with a wink.
I think know he dreams of catching a trophy Red.
Within thirty minutes he has his 16 foot 1957 aluminum boat hooked up and ready to roll. We have a skiff but he likes that old dinghy. Anyway seven hours later we are standing in the salty breeze assessing the conditions. The tide, the wind, the weeds and the water temperature. Fishing is very serious business, that’s why I usually leave it to him. Thank goodness a cousin showed up to keep him company on the water while I undertook the tasks of reading and snapping pictures. All in the name of research of course.
Taking off on a whim is something we haven’t done in a very long time and you know what? I loved it!
These are the rewards of spontaneity
This weeks photo challenge is Happy.
What makes me happy? This gallery could go on forever with an endless list of small things that bring the greatest joy. It is probably a good thing that I am away from home right now, saving you from a trillion gigabytes of what makes me smile. I’ve narrowed it down to five from my hard drive.
Nestled in the woods there is tiny space of refuge. A place of respite and reflection and it is mine. At least that’s what the sign says.
[For the weekly photo challenge titled Mine]
I met a frog today.
I pressed my lips to the window (my side was clean, his was not) and …
Nothing happened. So much for fairy tales.
So much for Fairy Tales
The Real Janna Hill in 