Skip to content

Tag: writers block

Marketing, My Fear of Failure

 

After the unremarkable sales of my last book, I dead-stopped marketing. The thought of updating my blog made me freeze, I couldn’t find anything worthwhile to post on Facebook and my newsletter went silent.

What the hell was wrong with me?

At first I was convinced that I wanted to focus on my writing, then I was tired, then my day-job was overwhelming. Yada, yada, yada.

While all these things are true, they’re not the root cause of why I stopped. I think I have atychiphobia, fear of failure, in particular fear of failing at selling my books.

Yikes.

I looked it up on line and have all the symptoms. For me, it boils down to this.  What if I put myself out there and people don’t like me?

ARGH!

My persona is that of a successful, positive, outgoing woman. However, my abused inner child sabotages me. I know this and yet when it happens, I’m blind-sided. Growing up, I never experienced unconditional love.

Dammit. That isn’t me. Not now.

I need to ask her to step back and let me try my hand at marketing again. Sure, I may fail but eventually, with enough practice, I’ll get better. While I’m learning, it doesn’t change who I am or my value as a writer or as a human being.

Starting at lunch time, here is what I am going to do:

Write this blog. Woo hoo. Mark this one done!

Write a marketing plan, complete with due dates.

Schedule no-excuse marking time into every week.

Break the to-do list down into small tasks

Create a new mantra! Repeat after me, “I am successful at marketing.”

Face your fear head on. 

Picture yourself as a marketing maven.  What does it feel like? Live there in your imagination. Write about her.

Define Milestones and rewards.  Maybe that trip to a warm island surrounded by sand?

 

I must thank this website for helping me to define my problem.

http://www.businessknowhow.com/marketing/marketingfear.htm

 

More to come… please leave a comment with your own struggles!

Leave a Comment

How Do You Come up with Ideas for Your Novels?

Where do you come up with this stuff?

Honestly? It’s more like ‘How do I shut this stuff off.’

Can you elaborate?

Sure. I can give you a few. ‘A Witch to Die For’ started as a sexy daydream, where guy meets girl, during summer solstice. Then the ‘what-if’s’ kick in. What if he’s a witch and they need to make a witchy connection. What if she doesn’t know how? What if his family offers to train her? What if she’s really powerful and someone else wants her?

Another one?
What if…This geeky girl got this hard drive from a long lost brother who’s nothing but trouble?

Yet another?
What if…That key in my purse was really to a safety deposit box, and someone, desperate to be rid of it, dropped it there after a murder.

And so my mind goes

Wow. So how do you turn that into a novel?

At first it was pretty random. But now that I’ve studied the craft, I’ve started to formalize the process. Most important is ‘Goal, Motivation, and Conflict’. There’s a lot of really great articles out there, so if you’re interested on how-to, I might suggest to Google it.

But your first series, is medieval. Are you a history buff?

Not any more than most. What I like to do is put myself in some scene, and describe it. What if I lived in a drafty stone building? How would I warm up? What would I do to make it nicer? People are people. They want to be comfortable.

How did you figure out all the details in your book?

Google Search is an amazing thing.

Leave a Comment

pocketa-pocketa

Today’s thoughts.

I never was much of a letter writer. I still am not. Why? Because, honestly, what goes on day to day is pretty boring. I often think of myself a lot like Walter Mitty in the original Thurber story, (not the Stiller movie). Instead of pocketa-pocketa going on in my head, there’s characters and scenes playing out. They talk, and jockey for position.

Bad guys explain why it makes perfect sense to do dastardly deeds. At some point I just have to agree. Otherwise I shall never get the laundry done, get dressed, and get to yoga.

Yesterday, while cleaning the greasy fan over the stove with a Mr. Clean eraser, I had to argue with the heroine about following the hero into battle. Honestly? I finally had to have her husband lock her in the dungeon.

Did that work? No. Because then the evil highlander, the one with schizophrenia, decides to use her and her son to discourage our hero from fighting to get his inheritance back.

I have to go to my day job now, and put them all mentally away, like the dolls I played with as a kid. But when I stop for a moment, they’re not real polite about waiting. What about the castle? What about love? What about justice? Will the head injury leave permanent damage?

QUIET!

 

  • [wppb-register]
Leave a Comment

First Sneak Peak at Dark Tremor!

Chapter 1

 

Let’s see what this baby can do. Jace revved the custom engine of his new ATV and grinned. The desert whirled by at 100 mph, he caught some air, and flew.

“Fuck yeah!” What a rush. Better than winning at the tables last night.

Back teeth chomped together when all four wheels landed. He turned the wheel in the opposite direction, rotated his wrists, and his ride sped forward. Sweeeeet. Ahead lay nothing but blue sky, a couple cactus, and a lot of empty miles.

Above him a falcon circled, then swooped low. He only took his eyes off the terrain for a moment, but when he looked back, his vehicle rocketed, full speed towards a woman’s small form. With only a couple feet to spare, he cranked the wheel and held his breath.

Shit. Where the hell had she come from?

With each turn of the deathly merry-go-round, a huge boulder grew closer. Time stood still. Impact imminent. As he spun out, he swore a fissure ripped through the surface of the desert and the mammoth rock sank halfway into the riverbed.

What the fuck?

Another turn.

The blob disappeared.

His right front wheel hit something solid, and he flipped, and rolled. A sickening crunch, followed by an odd silence except for the spinning of tires.

With some effort, he unclenched his jaw and took a deep breath. The sharp edges of the harness dug into his neck and the sky stood where the ground should be. But he was alive.

Upside down, a woman, no, the woman who’d just caused this disaster, peered down, or rather up, and said, “Are you okay?”

“Hell, no. I’m not okay, lady. Look at my ATV.” What a stupid question. Adrenaline raced through his veins, needing an outlet.

Her face-load of attitude and army-surplus attire was covered in dust. “Listen to me, asshole. I don’t give a shit about your vehicle. Were you hurt?”

He wiggled his toes. Good.

Fingers. Good.

Hanging like a bat, he wedged his legs and released his harness. The world righted itself when he jumped onto all fours and crawled out of the wreckage onto the still cool sand of the morning.

“What the hell were you doing out there? I could’ve killed you.” His hand came back bloody when he rubbed above his right eye.

“Me?” Her dirty brows furrowed. Blue eyes glared, white teeth showed, and no doubt, sharp claws hid inside the oversized jacket. “Didn’t you see the no trespassing signs?”

“There weren’t any signs,” he growled, rolling his shoulders. A wave of nausea washed over him and his vision went foggy. He gripped the side of the ATV to keep from tumbling forward.

She rolled her eyes. “You are hurt. Follow me.”

A sweet little ass turned and walked towards a nearby hill.

Before following, he tried to clear his thoughts and recall the sequence of events.

Woman. Bolder. And…earthquake? Sure enough. He hadn’t imagined the two foot gash that zig-zagged across the river bed. What were the odds?

Slim to none.

Suspicious, he followed her up a steep hill, and through the glassed in front wall of some kind of cave dwelling. Figures. The badger had a burrow.

“You live in a cave?”

“Earthship. Entirely eco-friendly.” She pointed to a ladder-back chair and threw him a roll of paper towels. “Sit and try not to bleed on anything. Give me a sec’ to clean up.”

While water ran from behind the bathroom door, he pulled off a wad of paper towels, and pressed it to one eye. With the other, he made a quick assessment of her space. Cheap, but sparkling appliances lined one wall.  On the other side of the island that divided the open space, a lumpy couch faced a fourteen-inch screen.

Above, a wood railing circled a loft with a low bed.

He jumped when an orange tabby landed on the large antique table in front of the glass wall. It padded around a short wave radio, and a laptop, making a dreadful meowing sound. It sat down next to a pile of rough, blue stones.

Jace picked one up and whistled through his teeth.

Turquoise. Beautifully veined. And not from a mine he recognized. Probably worth a small fortune.

Wet-faced, she dashed out of the bathroom with a towel around her neck. “Put that down.”

The gem fell from his hand and his mouth dropped open. Holy hell.

Her newly scrubbed face revealed a pert nose and wide kissable lips, framed by long dark-blonde hair. But it was the damp, white t-shirt, worn without a bra, leaving little to the imagination that had his cock standing at attention.

When she caught him staring, she turned bright red, and grabbed a sweatshirt off a chair. It was too late. His dick knew what it saw–and it wanted it.

Bustling across the room, she struggled with her zipper while trying to balance a first aid kit under her arm.

“I said not to touch anything.” She picked up the stone and put it back in the pile.

“Sorry.” Arms raised, he stepped away, but couldn’t hide the widening smirk.

“Sit down and I’ll clean your cut.” Small palms pushed at his chest, ineffectively, but remained, as if glued. She stared, stunned.

The energy pulsing into him made his knees weak.

No. No. No. Hell, no. He’d only felt that once before in his life and he wasn’t about to do that again.

When he jumped back, she beat him to the punch line. “That is so not going to happen. Understood?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Sit, before you fall down.” Her hands trembled as she snapped open the old metal first aid kit and searched the bins.

Sitting, in one of two chairs, he noticed that there was two of everything. “So, you married?”

“None of your business. Close your eyes. This is going to sting.” She pressed an antiseptic pad against the cut on his forehead.

“Owe. Damn. Stop that.”

Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and bam. There it was again. No denying it. She was a witch, and a powerful one at that. She’d probably be a perfect match for him, if he was looking for a mate. Which he damn well was not.

Leave a Comment

Free Kindle Fire 7

Hi,

There’s still a chance to win a Kindle Fire 7!

or a $10 gift card

or a Signed/Magnet Card set

or a Signed Copy of ‘How To Train Your Knight’!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

I just ordered new magnets and the CUTEST stationary from Vista Print and am DYING to give some away.

I also am in serious need of Amazon reviews for ‘How To Marry Your Wife.’

Now, I only believe in gettin’ honest review. Y’know? Because anything else just isn’t right. So. that bein’ said, let me know if you’d like to review ‘How to Marry Your Wife’ and if you like refrigerator magnets!

Just comment below, or email me at stellamariealden@gmail.com. If you can’t afford the book, I can gift you a copy!

Fondly,

Stella!

Win A Full Signed Card & Magnet sets

6 Comments

Dark Vortex Blog Tour!

+*¨^¨*+ Blog Tour +*¨^¨*+
Dark Vortex: Mated by Magic Book One
By Chantel Seabrook & Stella Marie Alden
Cover Designs by Queen Ninie
https://www.facebook.com/DesignedbyQueenNinie/

Release Date: February 29th, 2016

Add to your TBR List!
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28820982-dark-vortex

Synopsis:
For the survival of his clan, Jack Fialko needs to mate with a witch of equal power before the end of the solstice. He finds the perfect woman, except for one serious flaw. She has no idea how to engage in the dangerous magical foreplay–the duel for sexual equality. The task of training her in two days seems insurmountable, especially while other warriors are trying to kidnap her.

Zoe is a warrior-healer hybrid. The trouble is, she has no idea what that means. It’s all a harmless game until one night a dominant, brooding, sexy-as-sin warrior touches her and ignites a shameless craving to mate. Zoe must decide if the scorching chemistry between them is worth fighting for.

Can love and lust exist together in an exhilarating magical combination? Or will their bond combust?

WARNING: Book contains mature themes, steamy, sexual scenes and graphic language.

Buy Links: Free on Kindle Unlimited

AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/1JUr26b
AMAZON UK: http://amzn.to/1WYNIEb
AMAZON CA: http://amzn.to/204zHF7
AMAZON AU: http://bit.ly/23FFHZB

Excerpt:

Power coiled through him. Roughly, he hauled her to the bed. Her back met the mattress and he positioned himself above her. He spread her thighs wider with his knees. She curled her hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles clench and tighten under her palms.
He stilled above her. The thick head of his cock nudged the swollen folds.
Amidst the addictive hunger, there was something more. Something Zoe didn’t want to speculate on. For a moment, apprehension edged at her arousal.
“Say it, Zoe. Say you’re mine.”
It was a claiming.
He was claiming her.
And she desperately wanted to belong.
“I’m yours,” she whispered.
He thrust into her, working himself deeper, his gaze locked with hers. She gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter. He eased back, then pushed inside her again, slowly, deeply. He filled her perfectly.
“Mine,” he growled. “My mate.”
“Yes.” She was fighting to breathe. Fighting to make sense of the sensations tearing through her.
His hips jerked hard, burying himself inside of her.
“You need to say it back to me, angel.”
“My mate,” she whimpered, feeling a new surge of energy pulsating through her body. A brilliant array of color, pleasure, sensations vibrated through her. For a brief, intense moment, she felt as if her body and soul merged with his, and her senses exploded with the pleasure of it.
His cock throbbed inside her, thick and hard, stretching the sensitive tissue. Electric pulses began to race through her body. Jack’s jaw clenched, fighting for control. He pulled back, then slammed in, harder, deeper. Impaling her with swift, hard strokes.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and gasped. Her vision darkened as she cried out with her release. The pleasure broke her. Every neuron in her body seemed to explode in ecstasy.
The vortex burst, sending violent waves of energy ricocheting off the walls. She heard Jack’s shout, felt the overpowering pleasure of his release pulsating inside her.
Closing her eyes, Zoe held onto him and knew nothing would ever be the same again.
She was lost to him.

AUTHOR BIOS

-CHANTEL SEABROOK-

chantel

Chantel Seabrook currently resides in London, Ontario, with her husband and two daughters. She is passionate about writing and enjoys reading fantasy, paranormal romance, and science fiction. Chantel has a four-year Anthropology degree from Western University.

Website: www.chantelseabrook.com
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Chantel-Seabrook/e/B00ZRNQFHC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/authorchantelseabrook?fref=nf
Goodreads Page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25737458-cara-s-twelve?ac=1
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChantelSeabrook?lang=en

-STELLA MARIE ALDEN-

Stella Marie Alden

Stella Marie Alden loves Zumba, yoga, watercolor painting, and fixing up her house.
Growing up in Vermont, crayons fought over placement in their cardboard box and imaginary friends crowded the house. Her brother complained. “Tell her no one’s here, Mother.”.
She’s been a librarian, a clarinetist, recording engineer, electronics repairman, and now architects software. She lives in NJ with her life-long hero and two cats. Her girls are grown but ever supportive. Go Mom!

Website: http://www.stellamariealden.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/stellaMarieAlden/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27212966
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/StellaAlden/

Hosted by:
Like A Boss Book Promotions
http://www.facebook.com/likeabossbookpromotions

Leave a Comment