What Does Success Mean

There were a couple of events last week that made me think.

(This is where DH says, "AAAGGGHHH!)

The first one was having lunch with a former critique group. Four different writing career paths and life events mean we don't critique together anymore, but we still try to get together once in a while.

And by different paths, I mean incredibly different paths. Christie still writes for two of the Big 5 and 1/2, but she's self-published her backlist from the now-defuntct Dorchester and Triskelion. She's also hit the NYT Bestseller List. Teri started with Ellora's Cave, dabbled in indie publishing, and is now focusing on finding a trad publisher for her young adult series. Life has hit Jody the hardest, which is why she focuses on the magazines that still accept short stories. Then there's me, who went 100% indie after nearly two decades of rejections.

Christie related her adventures during her first publisher-sponsored book tour, so of course the conversation turned to book promotion. Needless to say, she's shocked at how little promotion I've done, yet I'm still make a few hundred bucks a month.

Quite honestly, I can't do the amount of travel Christie does for promotion. For one thing, I have a preteen child while her kids are adults with their own homes and significant others. Then there's my health issues. My immune system is so compromised I'm lucky to get through the grocery store without catching someone's disease. Believe me, I wish I were joking. A mild cold swept through GK's soccer team, and I spent a whole day on the family room couch because it was closest to the downstairs bathroom.

The other thing that happened last week was Charlaine Harris's last Sookie Stackhouse novel was released. Despite my best efforts NOT to hit spoiler sites, the fan backlash over the ending was a major topic of conversation on several writer business blogs I follow.

I realize I really don't want Charlaine's level of success. I already have DH pissed at me over something I'm going to do in Book 8 of the Bloodlines series, I can't imagine having thousands of fans sending me hate mail and death threats.

No, I definitely don't want the kind of success Christie and Charlaine have. I would never survive it.

Deep down, I want readers, not fans. I want to give people entertainment in their lives, but not to the point they go Kathy Bates on me. Most of all I want to bring them a little joy. That's my definition of success right now.

But I am a woman, and I reserve the right to change my mind down the road.

I'm Not Here Right Now. . .

Today, I'm hanging out over at my pal Christie Craig's blog. After eight years, I'm still trying to convince her zombies are cool.

I don't think she's buying it.

But we do talk about junk food and Chippendales dancers in addition to zombies.

Please don't leave me hanging like a vegan zombie! Comment if you want a chance at a free copy of Zombie Wedding. (Though if you win and you already have it, I'll slip you a copy of Blood Sacrifice when it's available. Shhhh...don't tell Christie!)

The Little Girl No One Cried For - C.C. Hunter

Last year's All Hallows Read guest posts were so popular, I decided to make it an annual event. So I asked some of my favorite people, who happen to write some of my favorite books, to tell their own personal scary stories.

As an added bonus, the always frightening Neil Gaiman is giving away a free story at Audible, but hurry! The offer only good until October 31st!

Back here at WW&W, first up is Creepy C.C. Hunter (aka my buddy Christie Craig)!

I was thirteen and I woke up that morning with sunshine spilling through my window. I stretched my hands over my head and it hit me—the memory of a dream I’d just had came rushing back. There had been no sunshine in the dream.

It was spooky, but more strange and sad. Like an old movie, I could still see it playing in my mind. But unlike a movie, my memory came with all five senses. The smell of wet earth and the scent of a storm brewing somewhere close by. I could feel the wind hit my face, blowing my blonde hair across my eyes. Tombstones, aged and cracked, littered the ground around me. All was silent—deadly silent.

A small group of people stood quietly by a gravesite. All wearing black. Even the sky held a dismal shade of sadness. There seemed to be no color in the image—no joy, all drab and gray. I stared at the faces of those grieving people. Did I know them? Yes, but . . . vaguely. And from where?

Immediately, my gaze shifted to the casket. The tiny polished box carried the only color in the scene. A bright pink ribbon rested on top. My gaze shot back to the people again. They weren’t crying. For some reason that seemed odd. They needed to cry. Cry for the child who obviously lay tucked inside that casket. The child who would never run and play and who would never know life.

I studied the faces of the people again, trying to remember where I’d seen them. How could I know them when they looked so out of place? Like people from old pictures. People from another time, another life.

And then came the realization. The woman dressed in a thick black wool coat, hugging herself against the cold and staring at the casket with empty emotion, was my grandmother, but younger. A lot younger. The woman today was old, in her late sixties. But yes, I remembered seeing her younger face in family photo albums.

Then, I recognized the other people. My mom and dad when they were young. My grandfather and one of my uncles. My gaze shifted from one person to the next.

Then it went to the casket.

Who had died? Part of the answer came with the next cold whisk of wind: A baby. A baby girl.

I wanted to tell someone how sorry I was. Emotion built in my chest. A crazy thought hit. Someone needed to cry for the child. I stood back from the crowd, not really present, but somehow still there. I felt the odd sadness. But why weren’t they crying?

Then my grandmother, my mom, dad and uncle were gone. As if they’d vanished into the air. I saw the casket being lowered into the gaping chasm. Abruptly the dream changed and I saw the gravestone. It simply read, Our baby girl: Christie.

Christie? CHRISTIE? That was my name. How could the baby have my name? That’s when I’d woken up. My heart still thumped against my breastbone at the memory, and I had tears in my eyes. Not wanting to be alone, I went and found my mom cooking breakfast.

I told her about the dream, about the casket with the pink ribbon and seeing my name on the gravestone.

I saw shock hit my mom’s face. “What is it?” I asked, but was almost scared for her to answer.

“This is weird.”

“What?”

“Your grandmother got pregnant a few months after your dad and I were married. It was a girl. She only lived a few weeks. You were named after her.”

The spookiness tiptoed up my spine as chills skittered up my neck. I looked at my mom and asked, “Why didn’t anyone cry?” Suddenly, I burst into tears.

My mom’s faced paled even more. “Your grandma told everyone no tears. She said she couldn’t handle the tears. We weren’t allowed to cry.”

I dropped down into a kitchen chair and asked the question burning inside me. “How could I have dreamed this?”

“I’m sure you heard the story,” Mom said.

“When? When could I have heard the story? I swear I never knew about her before now.”

“I don’t know, but you had to have heard it. How else would you have known this?”

How else?

To this day I think about that dream. I think about the little girl, my namesake. Did I really hear someone tell that story and my mind simply played it back as a dream? Or did the spirit of Christie somehow visit me? Did she need me to know about her? Did she need someone to cry for her?

I guess you see why my Shadow Falls series involves ghosts. There’s a part of me that believes in them. What about you? Do you believe in ghosts?

C.C.'s latest book, Whispers at Moonrise, is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other fine retailers.

Laughter, Friendship & Purple Penis Envy

The winner of the CC Hunter swag is Kelli! Kelli, please contact Christie at cc@cchunterbooks.com!

Please welcome guest blogger Christie Craig!

I know, I know, I used the “P” word. I can see my grandma in Heaven looking down at me, doing her famous finger wave and saying, “Young lady, you take that back right now.”

First, I’d tell grandma, “I can’t take it back, because I don’t have the purple penis, I was one of the envious ones and not the receiver of this great gift.” Second, I’d tell her, and ya’ll too, “Bear with me, give me just a little lead way here.”

Why?

Because this blog is truly a wonderful and heart-felt story. But I couldn’t tell the story without using the “P” word, because well, it’s just part of the story.

Let me start at the beginning. (I know, some of you are probably wanting me to jump right to the purple penis, but nope, you gotta hear the whole story.)

I have these friends—there are four of us. We’re all writers, varying ages, all young at heart, but all of us have racked up enough years to remember Elvis. And one of us is old enough to have actually dated him.

We come together once a month for a revival of life. While we do some critiquing, we are mainly a support group. To protect the guilty, I won’t mention names, but Suzan, Jody and Nancy know who they are.

Anyway, we meet at Paneras, a happening restaurant with Wi-fi, good food, and staff and clientele who tolerate us when we get loud. And yeah, that happens more times than not.

We don’t have a lot of rules. Well except one, “What happens in Paneras stays in Paneras.” I apologize profusely for breaking that one rule, but the purple penis story is just too good not to share. Besides, this is just with you guys, right?

So, we came together a while back. And as it is in life, we all bring with us our celebrations, i.e.: a new contract, a new outfit, a husband who finally found the spot (I’m talking about the spot on the floor) anyway, we all love to celebrate the good stuff. And in case you are wondering, there’s no alcohol beverages served. But only because it’s too early.

With four of us, that means we have eight shoulders, and if anyone needs one to cry on, or whine on, there’s always one available. Of course, we won’t let anyone wallow too long, life’s too short.

Some weeks we spend our whining time commiserating about how a two-pound cheesecake can pack on five pounds. We whimper a bit about teenagers being teenagers and how we wish we were like other mammals and just ate our young when we had the chance. We may momentarily mutter bad things about deadlines biting us in the butt, and spend a few short seconds moaning about doggy diarrhea. (Hey, there’s nothing we can’t talk about.)

But sometimes life throws us the crappier problems, (yeah, crappier than doggy diarrhea) and this last month, there must have been some clearance sale on crap because there seems to have been a lot to go around.

Things such as a recent loss of a parent, family issues, dying pets, job transfers out of state, health problems, and health problems of a spouse. The kind of problems that if one isn’t careful, can rob you of your joy.

Thank goodness we’re careful. Thank goodness we have each other. And for that particular day, thank goodness for the purple penis.

So imagine us, arriving at the restaurant--hearts a little heavier than usual. Suzan starts pulling out these really nice Hallmark gift boxes—keepsake type of boxes—from a bag.

“These are for you guys. Just because I appreciate all you do.”

Now, we all love gifts, but surprise gifts are the best. She hands us each our specific box. And we start opening them. Inside my box is lots of tissue, beneath I find a Willow Tree statue of an angel that I collect, and a leather bookmark. I love it! I watch Nancy open hers; she has journal books, a nice pen, as well as a bookmark. Then Jody opens her box, unfolds the tissue, and she pulls out a purple object. She holds it up in the middle of the table as we all try to wrap our minds around what it is. I mean, I had an angel and she had . . .

My mouth drops open.

Nancy just gapes.

Jody continues to stare.

Suzan . . . Suzan waits. Yeah, she knows what will happen . . . eventually.

I see in Jody’s eyes the exact second when she realizes that she’s holding a purple vibrator up in the middle of a booth in a crowded restaurant.

Her eyes grow round as quarters; her mouth goes a little slack. She throws the penis back in her box. And slams the lid down.

And Nancy and I do what I’m sure all of you would have done.

We immediately start digging around in our boxes, removing tissue, searching to see if we’d missed our own penises.

Yup, Nancy and I have a serious case of purple penis envy. Jody continues to hold her hand on the top of the box, it almost looks as if she’s afraid the thing might try to escape. But in reality, we all know what’s going on. She’s afraid we’ll take it from her.

Hey, we couldn’t help it. It was a really nice penis. I personally think a couple of men sitting at the next table had penis envy. Yeah, we were getting quite a few looks.

Then Suzan, managing to hold a straight face, says to Jody, “Remember the time we were looking at the erotica basket at conference and you whined that you’d never had a purple penis? Well, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t afford to buy you the 12-inch, but it has adjustable speeds.”

That’s when it happened.

We all lose it and start to laugh, not the snickering, or proper lady-like kind of laughs, but those deep laughs that come straight from your toes.

We laugh until several of us have tears in our eyes.

We laugh until all the heavy burdens in our lives seem less like insurmountable burdens and more like things we can and will overcome.

And we stayed at that restaurant for almost four hours reveling in each other’s company.

You know, in this life we’ll all stumble across tough times, but those times can be a lot easier to deal with if you have friendships, laughter, and sometimes even a purple penis.

So what about you guys? Do you have good friends that you share your burdens and laughter with? And because I just had a release, I’m giving away . . . No, it’s not a purple penis. It’s a Shadow Falls T-shirt and an e-copy of Born at Midnight, my first book in the series. Just leave a comment by midnight CDT on October 15th!

This incident happened three years ago. So much has happened to all of us since then, including Christie hitting the NYT Bestseller List in her alter-ego, YA author C.C. Hunter.

Here's the blurb for her latest Shadow Falls book,  Whispers at Moonrise!

Shadow Falls Camp is back in session with the most explosive installment yet. A shocking new threat will rock Shadow Falls—changing it forever and altering Kylie’s journey in ways she never imagined.

Even at a camp for supernatural teens, Kylie Galen has never been normal. Not only can she see ghosts, but she doesn’t seem to belong to any one species—she exhibits traits from them all. As Kylie struggles to unlock the secrets of her identity, she begins to worry that Lucas will never be able to accept her for what she is, and what she isn’t…a werewolf. With his pack standing in their way, Kylie finds herself turning more and more to Derek, the only person in her life who’s willing to accept the impossible.

As if life isn’t hard enough, she starts getting visits from the ghost of Holiday, her closest confidante. Trouble is, Holiday isn’t dead…not yet anyway. Now Kylie must race to save one of her own from an unseen danger before it’s too late—all while trying to stop her relationship with Lucas from slipping away forever. In a world of constant confusion, there’s only one thing Kylie knows for sure. Change is inevitable and all things must come to an end…maybe even her time at Shadow Falls.

TxDOT v. Christie Craig, et. al. - The End?

The attorneys have settled the lawsuit, and life goes on for Christie, Grand Central and Barnes & Noble. The terms are confidential. If I knew, I couldn't tell you.  *wink*

What I can say is that Don't Mess with Texas is going back for another printing. You'll see it on the shelves of your local bookstore soon. Or you can download a copy now from your favorite e-book retailer.

In the meantime, Blame It on Texas will be out in August. I can't wait. You see, Tyler has a special place in my heart as the computer geek of the agency.

The real question is whether TxDOT will ever own up to wasting my money on a frivolous lawsuit. Honestly, I doubt it. But I would like to remind certain elected officials in Austin that November 6th is less than six months away.

TxDOT v. Christie Craig: The Write-In Campaign

Several writers in the Houston area, including me, wrote to the Texas Department of Transportation in regards to Civil Action No.1:11-cv-726, i.e. their lawsuit against Texas romance writer, Christie Craig for alleged violation of the state's trademark.  The responses most of the writers recieved were generally dismissive and condecending.

So we're going over TxDOT's head, and we're asking all writers and readers to help.

Please contact Texas Governor Rick Perry and ask him to stop this travesty.  The main points that refute this lawsuit are:

1)  TxDOT's counsel admitted to Judge Sam Sparks in open court that NONE of TxDOT's trademark registrations apply to books.

2)  TxDOT claims that Ms. Craig's book ruins their reputation because it contains scenes between a heterosexual couple in a committed relationship practicing safe sex.  Yet, TxDOT believes selling men's thongs with the trademark clearly stamped on the front does not.

3)  TxDOT has not sued other entities using the title 'Don't Mess With Texas.' Other works using the title include a rap song, a magazine article and several country songs.  Please note that ALL of these other situations I mention involve an artist or a controlling party who is MALE.

4)  TxDOT is wasting money pursuing this action that is all likelihood they will lose when Texas is in a fiscal crisis.

We ask that you contact Gov. Perry directly and protest this lawsuit.

Snail Mail:  The Honorable Rick Perry, PO Box 12428, Austin, TX 78711-2428
Website:  http://governor.state.tx.us/contact/
Phone No:  (512) 463-2000
Twitter: @GovernorPerry (mention @TxDOT and @Christie_Craig)

We also ask that you tweet, FB and blog this information.

Even if you don't live in Texas, this matter concerns you since Gov. Perry is running for President of the United States.

Please spread the word.  No government should bully a writer because they dislike that writer's content.  And frankly, this lawsuit is not about a trademark. It's an attempt by a state to bypass the First Amendment and harass a author based on her subject matter and her gender.

Robin's Rant

After my blow-up about the stupid censorship-disguised-as-trademark-infringement and waste-of-taxpayer-money lawsuit by TxDOT, fellow paranormal author Robin Badillo added her two cents over at Sealed With a Kiss.

She found even more interesting "trademark infringements."

More on TxDot Versus Christie Craig

TxDOT is lke the dog with a chew toy that just won't let go. Discovery has started in Case No. 1:11-cv-726.  Apparently, Judge Sparks pointing out in his ruling on the TRO and permanent injunction that a romance writer can't really harm the state fell on deaf ears.

Nor did reality sink in when the state's attorney ADMITTED IN OPEN COURT that NONE of the state's trademark registrations APPLIED TO BOOKS.

In the original complaint, TxDOT's biggest objection was that Christie's book "contain numerous graphic references to sexual acts, state of arousal, etc."

Okay, TxDOT, if you're that worried about sex, why do you sell these?

Yes, this thong is available for sale by the great state of Texas.  And people wonder why I think the lawsuit against Christie is really an attack on women's rights.

TxDOT Still Going After Christie Craig

TxDOT isn't giving up on their campaign against women (because frankly that's what it comes down to). According to the article in the Sunday edition of the Houston Chronicle, the TxDOT spokeswoman refused to answer whether the department will sue Rick Perry for using the 'Don't Mess With Texas' slogan in his campaign. No answer in politician speak means they won't. But TxDOT refuses to drop their frivolous lawsuit regarding Christie Craig's book Don't Mess With Texas.

Here's the Chronicle article.

I'm asking all Texas citizens to file a complaint with TxDOT in regards to this lawsuit. Heck, even if you're not, feel free to let our public officials know how ridiculous they make our state look.

Here's the complaint form online.

I already filed a complaint with TxDOT, and as a Texas tax payer, I asked for the specific amount spent on the original request for the original restraining order (which TxDOT lost, by the way). I received a response from the Office of General Counsel stating that no money had been spent, even though TxDOT would have had to pay filing fees for the first lawsuit and they hired outside counsel to represent them in federal court in this matter. If you would like a copy of the repsonse I received, please e-mail me privately.

Because this is ongoing litigation, Christie cannot comment on any of this. Please respect her in that regard.

But as a Texas citizen, I'm very angry about the rampant sexism in our state and the waste of state funds in this economic climate.

Don't Mess With Christie Craig

Normally, when a crit partner has a new book, I post the cover and the blurb on release day.

This situation with Christie Craig has been anything but normal.

So I waited to see how Judge Sparks ruled at the emergency TRO hearing on Monday.  TxDOT's request for a temporary restraining order was denied.  I can't say anymore than that since the official position of Hachette and Christie is 'No comment.'

[Edit to Add: The actual ruling hadn't been posted on the federal court's website, but the Austin Business Journal had the gist in an article posted this afternoon.]

[2nd Edit to Add: Here's a copy of the Request for Restraining Order and Injunction.  What's interesting is that no other major bookseller, such as Amazon or Books-A-Million, was named in the Request.]

However, for more info, here's some sites:

As far as I know, the Houston Press broke the story Tuesday morning.

A few hours later, the Dallas Business News added a few more details.

Then the romance community started commenting:
Something Wicked
Cheeky Reads
Dear Author
Beyond Her Book
Boxing the Octopus
Killer Fiction


[FYI: Houston, TX, is the headquarters of Romance Writers of America, and the home of three RWA chapters.]

By 2PM, the Twitterverse and various author loops had exploded with the news.

Magdalen at Promantica talks about the legal issues.

The news hit KHOU-TV, Channel 11, a little after 5 PM.

***

What I can say is that Don't Mess with Texas is another of Christie's wacky romantic suspense books. Three cops were unjustly sent to prison. Once exonerated, they become P.I.s with two missions: find the crime lord who set them up and help innocents accused of wrong-doing. And since this is Christie, there's the wild pets.  In this case, it's Budweiser, the coffin-lovin' bulldog.

Blurb
Nikki Hunt thought her night couldn't get worse when her no-good, cheating ex ditched her at dinner, sticking her with the bill. Then she found his body stuffed in the trunk of her car and lost her two-hundred-dollar meal all over his three-thousand-dollar suit. Now not only is Nikki nearly broke, she's a murder suspect.

Dallas O'Connor knows what it's like to be unjustly accused. But one look at the sexy-though skittish-suspect tells him she couldn't hurt anyone. The lead detective, Dallas's own brother, has the wrong woman and Dallas hopes a little late-night "undercover" work will help him prove it . . .

What Different Writers Do with the Same Premise

Are you a writer who's worried about someone stealing their idea?

Have you come up with a cool concept involving a young blonde who discovers that she has supernatural abilities?  A story where no one in her world can tell her exactly what she is?  That her change in status totally messes up her life and her relationships?

Today, the summer blog tour stops at Killer Fiction where Christie Craig and I (well, actually our characters Kylie and Sam) show how two writers with the same basic premise came up two totally different books.

P.S.  There's a contest, too. Maybe you can guess what one of the prizes is from the cover to the left.  Christie's also throwing in a signed copy of Born at Midnight.

[Edit to add: Since someone at Killer Fiction asked, Zombie Love will be on sale July 1st at Amazon, Barnes & Noble.com and Smashwords.]

Publishing Sales Tidbit

Currently reading - Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon

For those of you who don't know, publishing is like any other industry. Initial sales figures can make or break a product. And let's face facts, to the PTBs in the publishing world, our babies are just a product.

If there's an author you love out there, help them by buying his/her books the week they come out. Pre-ordering is always good too. Most online bookstores list the street date (aka lay-down date, the date the book's supposed to go on sale).

Here's the two books on my shopping list this week.

Paying It Forward

Sorry about the lateness of today's blog. The release of the latest Dresden files book, Changes, by Jim Butcher overwhelmed me momentarily. If you're a fan, he'll be at Murder By the Book here in Houston tonight at 6:30PM.

Despite my rant on Friday, I truly believe in paying it forward. Why? Because I've been the lucky recipient of folks who believe the same thing.

Roughly six years ago, this cute little blonde waltzed up to me at my first RWA chapter meeting. Her words dripped with Southern drawl, and she wore the most adorable hat. Frankly, that's all I can remember of my first encounter with classy Christie Craig. My own fear of new people and new situations blocked out most of the rest of that day.

A few months later, Christie asked if I'd like to meet for coffee. I was a little shell-shocked. Why would a published writer want to spend time with a newbie like me?

Over pumpkin and vanilla lattes, she talked about getting her first book published in 1993 and how she hit a dry spell in fiction. She put her daughter through college by writing over 10,000 magazine article. We discussed books, our current projects and how life is all about change and you can never stop learning. We discovered we had a lot in common. Growing up in small towns and taking the first opportunity to get out. Moms who weren't exactly all there in the mental department. The love of a terrific novel. And over the course of the next several years, we evolved into critique partners.

She's bent over backward helping me with plotting, emotional nuance, and my personal devil-POV. If I call with a question, she drops everything and gives her undivided attention. That's not to say we haven't had differences of opinion over certain stuff, but we respect each other's opinion enough to agree to disagree.

I've learned a hell of a lot about craft just from proof-reading for Christie. She'll downplay her talent at times. Her battles with dyslexia irritate her to no end. But she never gave up her dream of getting published. And finally in November 2006, she got that call from her agent that not only had she sold her second manuscript, but her third, fourth and fifth as well.

Shut Up and Kiss Me is Christie's seventh novel. This is my 100th Blog Post. So in honor of these two milestones, I'm giving away a signed ARC of Shut Up and Kiss Me.** It's damn funny book. I should know. I've read it already.

For a chance at winning the signed ARC, please leave a comment. Make sure you leave a name if posting an anonymous comment. You have until 11:00AM CDT Thursday morning to post a comment. I'll have GK draw a name at noon, and I'll announce the winner.

FINE PRINT and LEGALESE CRAP: Due to postage regulations and costs, I will only be able to mail the ARC to someone in the U.S. or Canada. I can't put folks outside of these two countries in GK's hat. You're still welcome to leave a comment though!



** P.S. Signed by Christie, not by me.