Rayne's Ramblings - Remembering Katrina

As I've mentioned, I've had several blogs over the years. Rather than try to update broken links, after a while, it becomes easier to start over. I'm hopeful that having total control of my work at this point in my career means fewer broken links. You may think a few links is a small thing but when a publisher revamps its entire website and gives all your books new links, and you've been promoting on a regular basis, well, do the math.

We've recently passed the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I saw a news special on it and was thoroughly dismayed people are still talking the same old tired rhetoric and blaming the same people for a hurricane. Have we learned nothing? Why are we unable to move on? 

Instead of continually puffing out one's chest and spouting off about what others did or didn't do in the aftermath of this natural disaster, get off your lazy ass and do something to make a difference. If you listen to the rabble rousers, remember words are cheap, and appropriate actions need no words. These people who've been ranting for ten years? What have they really done, other than go on television and talk? Better take a good look before you buy what they're really selling. 

RF

The following is from the former blog, Through a Glass Brightly.

September 4, 2005

Hurricane Katrina

The tragedy of humanity in the wake of Hurricane Katrina has haunted everyone for these past days. Everywhere you go people are talking about it. Every newspaper has pictures and headlines. Every channel on the television, even the shopping networks, are donating goods and funds to relief efforts. And here is yet another blog, another opinion voiced. Yes, everyone is affected in some way by this natural disaster.

I’m hearing from people, far and wide, that they are giving to the Red Cross. This outpouring of generosity is wonderfully American. And yet I know getting those funds collected and trickling down to the victims of the hurricane will take time. There is bureaucracy to deal with whether we like it or not. As heart-rending as some of the images on the television are, we are still reminded that the universe unfolds as it should and we ultimately have no control over it.

In the days ahead we’ll all be bombarded by messages from this or that organization stating they are giving a portion of their proceeds to relief efforts. Most of these organizations are honest. They’ll do as they say. Others, I’m not so sure about. My beloved was watching something on the television and a commercial came on.

I was in my office and couldn’t see the pictures, but listening to the announcer I was struck by the blatant promotional opportunity that particular company was taking all couched in terms of aiding the victims of the hurricane. I’m glad I don’t patronize that company, and I know that now I never will.

In the midst of the human tragedy, I sit at my computer and write. Working on my newest story has turned into chore. My mind keeps turning to those suddenly homeless, suddenly hope-less. My prayers are with those people. I lost my home and all my worldly possessions in a house fire in February of 1983. How much worse it must be for those people in the south.

I had family that embraced me. I immediately had a warm, safe place to sleep. I did not go without water. Even my dogs found shelter in my aunt’s warm, clean kennel.  I had a job to return to. The outpouring of gifts from my church and my community to rebuild my life, much from total strangers, is something I will never forget.

How much worse it must be for those people hit by the storm. I cannot even begin to know.

My prayers are also with those people who have left their families and their jobs to go and give aid to those suffering. I’m in awe of these people, in awe of the depth of their compassion and dedication. What special people they are to walk away from their lives to go and give aid. They also need support. A gift through your local house of worship will go to support many of them who have trained for this.

Tonight my beloved and I will take a short drive down our country road and park in front of the local church. From this vantage point we have a clear view of the Labor Day fireworks display sponsored by a local business. It is such a simple thing to sit together in the safe confines of our truck and enjoy the fireworks. We’ve done it every year for eleven years now. But tonight I won’t be taking his presence for granted.

In spite of what we see on the news, we are a nation blessed. We care about the plight of our fellow human beings and we do what we can, when we can, to give aid. If we are ever faced with such a tragedy again, we will do even better.

One by one, we each make a difference, and what we receive is more than we give. May our gifts be increased tenfold. 

Blessings to you,

Rayne

www.rayneforrest.com

www.twiter.com/rayneforrest

Rayne's Ramblings: What camp will you be in?

Blogs are strange beasts, each as individual as the blogger themselves. You can’t run a Google search without finding a blog on your chosen topic. Blogs are freedom of speech at its best – and sometimes, worst.

With Google alerts set on a variety of topics, I’m treated to a handful of new blogs every day. Some days I simply can’t take the time to read any of them, but I generally look at one or two when I have a quiet moment. Lately I’ve noticed an uncomfortable trend in blogs – bashing.

The Internet is populated by only twelve people and eleven of them have a gzillion screen names each.  I wouldn’t kid you about that. It has to be. I must be the only person who represents myself as only the writer and the “real me.” That’s all the multiple personality disorder I can do. The other eleven people are taking over all the bandwidths.

Okay. I’m being silly. My point is that the Internet provides a never before enjoyed anonymity to everyone. So…does our anonymity give us permission to post truly hurtful things about another person? I think not.

Things blogged about today will live on for no one knows how long. The Internet grows new storage every day. Five years. Fifteen? Fifty? It’s anyone’s guess how big the cloud will grow. The dregs of thought and spirit, and the enlightened and wonderful reside side-by-side. In a hundred years, what will future generations decide most realistically reflects those of us blogging today?  The nasty or the delightful?

I can’t speak for you, but I know which camp I want to be in.

Rayne Forrest

http://www.rayneforrest.com

http://www.twitter.com/rayneforrest

"I never promised you a rose garden..."

I beg your pardon… I never promised you a rose garden…

Have you ever had a bit of a song get stuck in your head? Of course you have. You know what I'm talking about. That annoying line that plays over and over in your head until you're ready to slip into madness. Yeah, you know all about it. This morning what do I get? Anne Murray.

Now I like Anne Murray. She has a wonderful voice that has become richer with the years. There's something to be said for someone who continues to improve and grow regardless of natural talent.

But this (great) old song? Why not something more current? Why not something with a driving beat that would make me fly through my work and enable me  to get to the fun stuff -writing? No, no. Not Dragula (talk about a driving beat!).  Why not Elton John? You know.. The Bitch is Back. No? 

I know… Beautiful Day! I like U2. So why not Beautiful Day?

I beg your pardon… I never promised you a rose garden…

So I'm wondering what in my subconscious needs to hear Anne Murray. It may remain a mystery and sometimes the mystery is one of the joys of life. 

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com

Spring weather

Western Maryland has unusual weather. One day we're as hot as Washington DC, and the next cool as Pittsburgh PA. It can be downright confusing. Yesterday I wore a skirt to work to stay cool and today I wore a sweater. 

We've been keeping an eye on the weather for a very specific reason - setting up our little pool for the season. It needs to be sunny and warm before I'm going to wade in the cold well water to get the bottom of the pool flat with no wrinkles as the water pours in. 

Beyond that, the bedding plants are in the ground. So are four Better Boy tomato plants. I planted marigolds in a circle around them and I hope that keeps the critters away. It didn't last year but I live in hope. 

My beloved's sister wants some hosta so I must get busy and dig a few clumps for her. Two clumps will net her a dozen plants. I think she'll like that. 

I'm enjoying how green the mountain is right now, and my backyard. It's the bright, fresh green of spring but soon enough it will darken to the greens of summer. And summer will bring the humidity to the area. They do say the Mid-Atlantic states are Triple H. That's hazy, hot, and humid. 

I think I might as well prepare myself for cold feet and get the pool up and filled before the hazy, hot and humid happens. I'm a country girl. I'm supposed to be "tuff."

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Justified

Today will go down as one of the saddest days in television history. Tonight at ten o'clock, Justified will end its six year run. I'm wearing black. 

Okay, so I wear black a lot, but this is different.

I can't remember when I've enjoyed a tv series as much as I've enjoyed Justified. If you think it's a hick show, well, maybe I'll concede the rural Kentucky setting might lead to that conclusion. But Justified is more wild west than anything else. Raylan's best line? "If you make me pull, you're going down." That's pull his Glock 17 from the holster in case you're wondering. If Raylan has to pull, it's going to be a justified shoot. 

Timothy Olyphant is excellent as Raylan Givens and his portrayal of Raylan will surely go down as one of the greatest character performances of all time. He makes it look so easy! Nick Searcy is freakin' BRILLIANT as Art Mullen. Searcy steals every scene he's in and that's not easy when long, tall, cool Tim is standing next to him. 

Speaking of Searcy, if you want to read something, check out the man's twitter feed. It's addictive. Whether you agree with him (or not) you will be entertained. You might learn a few things, too. 

My beloved and I have already decided we're going to have our own little Justified marathon this summer. Life is so hard here in rural western Maryland we have a television and DVD player on the 16x20 roofed patio, mounted on the house and strategically placed to avoid glare from the skylights. We're going to watch the series, start to finish, while enjoying our evening libation as we dry off from our daily dip in the kiddie pool. 

The residents of Harlan County don't have a thing on us. 

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com  

As the Brain Simmers

There's a saying, and I'm not sure where I read it, that a book is written as the fish eats - in nibbles. The last few days have been like that - nibbles. 

It used to concern me when the words to a story wouldn't come. I'd worry that I was finished. That I had nothing left to say or to create. Now I know it's just the way my brain works. I occasionally need to back off and let the ideas simmer. 

Is there a danger in that? You betcha. Sometimes I can let an idea simmer so long I forget about it. I opened my ideas folder last night and clicked through it. Wow. I really had some high expectations back in the day. 

But there are a few good ideas in the folder, ones I'll bring out and simmer. With the right ingredients, I might have something worth the seasonings. We'll see.

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Indie Publishing: Lessons Learned So Far

When I decided to indie publish my old backlist I didn't realize two things - how much there was to learn and how much I'd enjoy the process. Yes, process is quite an overused word these days but the language can be limiting. That's the only word that fits. 

The biggest adventure so far has been learning how to photoshop pictures. I'm not an expert, nor will I ever be, and that's okay. Sure the cover of a book is the first thing a reader sees. The second is the price. Well, maybe some folks see the price first and that's okay. I've been known to purchase a "try me" book for 99-cents, too. Anyway, learning to create covers is a lot of hard work but each new tool discovered ups my level of enjoyment with the software. 

Now comes the time to confess what I really like about going indie and something the naysayers might want to think about. Perhaps if I'd thought about it sooner, I'd have begun this new phase of my career a few years ago. 

It's a topic always discussed in private author circles. Is my publisher paying me for every copy sold? How do I know if they're not? It's an unfortunate reality the author doesn't know if she/he is being cheated. 

Yes, most (but not all) publishers are honest and most contracts have clauses that state the author can request an audit of her/his sales records but the author has to pay for it. Please believe me when I tell you only the lucky few are making enough money to pay for a forensic audit and those chosen ones are the few the publishers wouldn't dare fuck with because they do have the money. So what's one of the little people to do? Publish a few indie books.

When you become your own publisher you suddenly have access to sales reports direct from places like Amazon, All Romance eBooks, Barnes and Noble, Kobo - any online bookseller you hook up with. How does this help? Here goes. I'll try to make it simple.

Say I go to All Romance eBooks and search for Rayne Forrest. The results come up and I sort them by best selling and make a note of the day and the order of the books. Then I log into my publisher account and get the numbers of sales per book. Say I do this every day for the quarter and at the end of the quarter my indie book, which as been ranked as my third seller for the last several months has sold 100 copies. This means the two books above it have each sold more than 100 copies. I then get my royalty report from ARE. 

Books number 1 and 2 had better show sales of over 100 copies each, eh? Okay, they might only show 95, which would be close enough for me to know all is well. One thing I don't know is how many people bought a book and then returned it after they read it. (The practice of doing that is a blog for another day - after I learn a few more curse phrases.)

Is it a cumbersome lot of work to track sales this way? Absolutely. Will it give you enough money to pay for an audit, if necessary? Nope. It won't. But it might tell you it's time to look for another publishing house to handle your work.

And that's the bottom line here. Your books are your work. You license them to someone else to do the publishing end. You need to know if you're being treated honestly and an independent sales report is simply one more tool to that end. 

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

When it rains... go indie

This has been an unusual winter. We expect cold - got it. We expect snow - got it. We expect many days to be breezy but yet sunny - nope. Didn’t happen.

It’s been the topic of conversation in the office for several months. No one remembers being without sunshine for so many days in a row. It’s, well, it’s depressing.

A few years ago a lot was written about the link between the lack of sunshine and depression. While I don’t think I get clinically depressed, I do sort of go into a hibernation mode during the winter. Sleep is preferable to just about anything else.

Somehow this year I survived both the gray, dreary days and the urge to hibernate. I’m not sure how, but I’m not looking this “gift horse” in the mouth. I’m taking it for what it is.

I’ve spent this winter going over manuscripts and learning new things about self-publishing. My account at All Romance eBooks was just approved and I hope to get Mischief at Midnight and To Bed a Spy uploaded with the next few days. After that, it’s time to move on to other outlets.

The ability to have control over my work is exhilarating. It’s not that I think publishers are dishonest, but I do think the writer, on whom this ENTIRE industry depends, is not treated equitably. Without the writer, the publishing industry collapses. Somehow it’s come to be believed the publisher makes the author’s career. Um, no. The ability to tell a good story makes the author. It should be a symbiotic relationship and it is with the really great publishers. 

It's been an eye-opener to discover I can do for myself everything a publisher does, but could I have done this without the experience of being with nine different publishers over the years? Nope. I still think a publisher is a good idea for someone new to the industry. 

Take advantage of the opportunity to learn from publishers and editors. Bite the bullet and commit to a few years of having your work under contract. Remember nothing in this business worth the effort happens overnight. There are no shortcuts. You're either in it for the long haul or you should stop now. And if you're in it for the long run, don't shut off any avenue of forward progress. 

Think about it. 

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com

Rayne's Ramblings - Writing is like Gardening

Having been at this business of blogging for many years, I have quite an archive of blog entries. Twenty-six Keys is simply the latest incarnation of the many blogs I've had over the years. It got to the point where it was easier to start fresh than go back and remove old, invalid links and outdated content. And so Twenty-six Keys was born. 

Since I do have all that old content, I'm going to recycle some of it. What follows is an entry originally posted on one of those now defunct blogs in July 2007. It may be eight years later but I find writing is still like gardening for me, and this old blog entry still applies. 

Rayne

http://www.rayneforrest.com

Writing is like gardening

I've been a lifelong gardener. I suppose it's in my blood, passed down from generations of women who knew long before the evening news told them so that houseplants keep indoor air fresher. One thing my mother and grandmother always had were flowers.

My mother used to collect cardboard milk cartons to trim and fill with potting soil. In these she started her seeds. Once the seeds sprouted she would turn the cartons every day so the tiny seedlings weren't forced to stretch one way or the other toward the sunlight.

Mom nurtured the plants until the first of May then the cartons were set in the garage to "harden" before being planted in the regular beds or pots after May 10th, which is historically the day the chance of a hard frost is over for our immediate area. By July my mother's yard was blooming and she was hard at work weeding and watering. With the arrival of October she was clearing the beds of frost damage and making mental notes for the following year and washing out new milk cartons to stack in the garage for next March's seed sowing.

Mom has scaled back some in recent years but she still maintains a flowerbed that stretches along her driveway. She's mostly content with a smaller area but sometimes we reminisce about her hundred foot long border along the edge of the backyard of the house I grew up in. Glory days. 

Writing, for me, is much like gardening. The seed of a story comes to me either from something I've already written or from whatever it is beyond myself that makes me want to create characters and stories. The seed sometimes quickly sprouts, sometimes lies dormant waiting for a different season. Once it begins to grow it needs attention, nourishment, and sometimes a lot of weeding. If I'm lucky it eventually matures and blooms into something I can be proud of, something well worth all the work.

RF

Old dog, new tricks

One of the scarier aspects of self-pubbing my old stories isn't whether or not they have any shelf life left. I have no control over whether or not anyone buys a copy and I'm actually content with that. The thing is I enjoyed creating them and there's no reason to hide them away on my computer. So what is the scary part? Creating a decent cover.

It's pretty proven wisdom the cover needs to catch a reader's eye. Okaaaaay. What catches a person's eye is a personal thing. Can we please everyone? Of course not. 

I'm learning how to make simple covers. So far I like the results. They've been very clean without a lot of frills but the more I learn about manipulating the software to match my vision, the more complex they'll become. 

I'm rather pleased to report the old gal (me) can still learn a new trick. 

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Never say never

Rayne's Ramblings for Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Way back in the day, say in 2002, an aspiring author was given some words of wisdom by those considered to be "in the know." What was that wisdom, you ask? 

Stick with the traditional New York publishers and never, ever, never self-publish a book. 

Oh, how the world did turn! These days it's odd to find an author without a digital title. Even Clive Cussler is available via Kindle. The stigma of epublishing is gone and now the once equally firm edict to never self publish has fallen to the wayside. 

Do I think epublishing is for everyone? YES!! I'm proud to be one of the early epublished authors. I've met some wonderful people over the years. It's been, to sum it up in a word, interesting. I wouldn't change a thing.

Do I think self-publishing is for everyone? NO! While it's true I'm in the process of self-publishing my backlist, these books have had the benefit of an editor. More importantly, the author has had the benefit of working with editors for over ten years. Going back over the older books and applying everything I've learned has proven to be a positive experience. 

So here I am, knowing the value of a good editor and having once said I'd never self-publish. I'm self-publishing. So far it's not been quite as hard as I thought it would be. And the next time I begin a sentence with, "I'll never....."? I think I'll stop and reconsider my words.

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

As we enter another year - 2015

I'm sure you've heard this many times before. People always say they can't believe it's a new year. Well, it most surely is. This January 3rd marked twelve years since I got the first publishing contract as Rayne Forrest. That book was The Skies of Mahdis, a story I dearly love. Now that I'm twelve years on I need to revisit that story and apply those things I've learned. Skies has been out of print for ten years so it's time. 

I've also had more than a few blogs over the years. First there was Through a Glass Brightly. That was followed by Forrest Whispers and Rayne's Ramblings. I tried Live Journal, Word Press and a few others but I think it's safe to say I prefer blogger. Anyway... 

Here I am with a lot of old blog content. I was looking through the old files to determine if it was time to de-clutter but that didn't work so well. Instead of dumping content from 2004 (yes, that is two thousand four), I think I may recycle some of them, especially the ones that make me laugh. 

Some of them remind of people who have left my life, for one reason or another. So it is with the friend mentioned in this blog from July of 2005. We drifted apart and eventually lost touch but I remember her with fondness. So without more rambling, here's The Rules. 
* * *

July 18, 2005

I get together with a friend every few Saturdays for early morning tea or coffee. We go to the various coffee shops and tea parlors in the area but never the same one twice in a row so we don't wear out our welcome. Our Saturday morning get-togethers energize me. It’s very cathartic to share hopes, dreams and aggravations with someone who’s “been there, done that.”

Our discussion took a turn to The Rules last Saturday. Rules, you ask? Yes. THE Rules. The things you must not do as a writer - ever. If you do them no one will buy your book.

You know what the great thing is about epublishing? The Rules are getting broken. And you know why? The readers.

Readers are smarter than ever. Readers are more sophisticated than ever. And it shows.

One of The Rules states that you can’t change the point of view within a scene. Hey, I grew up with television. Pan in on Captain Kirk! Quick! Jump to the close up of Spock! Leap to McCoy! (Didn’t you just love his blue eyes?)

Somewhere in those 7.8 seconds we KNOW what all three of those men are thinking. It’s not a bit confusing. It wasn’t even confusing in 1966 when I was nine years old.

No, readers are smart. They can follow along. They can keep up. Not a problem. I know this because I was a reader long before I was a writer.

Another of The Rules is that you cannot write in the first person. I love the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, don’t you?

Anyway, my friend and I sipped our coffee and nibbled our way through a pair of raspberry and white chocolate scones and bashed The Rules. And what did I do when I finally made it home?

I sat down at my computer, read the last page I’d written, then retyped half of it because, well, because I’d broken The Rules.

Rayne

http://www.rayneforrest.com

History repeats itself - again

Here I go again on my own...

No, it's not David Coverdale belting out a hit song. Once again the universe has spoken and I've no choice but to listen. The owners of Whiskey Creek Press have decided to sell the company. 

It was a good run, albeit a complacent one. Time was things were different. Then came the Triskelion bankruptcy debacle. Then came the Aspen Mountain Press implosion. This time, though, it's different. Sort of. 

Whiskey Creek gave authors the option of agreeing to the terms of the purchaser and I opted out for the simple reason I'd never heard of the purchaser. So now all but one of my Whiskey Creek titles will be going out of print. One Summer will still be available but I don't have a clue as to the new link. Frankly, it's not with my full blessing they kept this title. I have the distinct impression that had I not agreed to let Start keep One Summer, I wouldn't have had a chance in hell of getting the other books back.  And I'm still not about to sign the form. (7/6/14 -As it is, Start instructed Whiskey Creek to return rights to ten "works" to me and I haven't gotten the reversion letter yet. I may not if I don't sign the form.) 

I suddenly have a MUCH better understanding of why an author would self-publish. 

Fortunately, Across Time and Step Into Tomorrow are with Amber Quill Press. It may sound strange but the very first ebook I ever purchased I bought at Amber Quill. I was delighted to be able to place a few stories with them. 

I'm back to wondering what's the right move. Maybe there isn't one. And maybe, like before, a door will open and shine a light out into the void and point me in the right direction. 

Rayne

Rayne's Ramblings: Baseball in Heaven

I always think of my grandfather when I read this "oldie but goodie" joke. Pop played baseball in the local bush leagues and was an avid Orioles fan. I hope he’s pitching next Tuesday in a game somewhere, too.

Rayne
***

Baseball in Heaven

Two ninety-one year old men, Moe and Sam, have been friends all their lives. It seems that Sam is dying of cancer, and Moe comes to visit him every day.

"Sam," says Moe, "You know how we have both loved baseball all our lives, and how we played minor league ball together for so many years. Sam, you have to do me one favor. When you get to Heaven, and I know you will go to Heaven, somehow you've got to let me know if there's baseball in Heaven."

Sam looks up at Moe from his death bed, and says, "Moe, you've been my best friend many years. This favor, if it is at all possible, I'll do for you."

And shortly after that, Sam passes on.

It is midnight a couple of nights later. Moe is sound asleep when he is awakened by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calls out to him, "Moe.... Moe...."

"Who is it?" says Moe sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"

"Moe, it's me, Sam."

"Come on. You're not Sam. Sam just died."

"I'm telling you," insists the voice. "It's me, Sam!"

"Sam? Is that you? Where are you?"

"I'm in heaven," says Sam, "and I've got to tell you, I've got really good news and a little bad news."

"So, tell me the good news first," says Moe.

"The good news," says Sam "is that there is baseball in heaven. Better yet, all our old buddies who've gone before us are there. Better yet, we're all young men again. Better yet, it's always spring time and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play baseball all we want, and we never get tired!"

"Really?" says Moe, "That is fantastic, wonderful beyond my wildest dreams! But, what’s the bad news?"

"You're pitching next Tuesday!"

Rayne's Ramblings: Old blogs and sneaky advertisers

Having a fascination with reading the headlines is a vice that doesn't cost much. I like it that way. Because I'm tight. I save money, not spend it. Clicking on an article is cheap entertainment as well as educational. But today I clicked on a headline and got an unpleasant surprise. Shine wanted to track my location.

Why?

This makes me instantly suspicious because I know why. They want to inundate me with advertisements to entice me to spend money.

Sorry. Better luck next time.

* * *

On another note, Twenty-six Keys is latest in a series of blogs I've had over the years. I started out on Live Journal, tried Wordpress but didn't stay with that, had a newsletter blog called Forrest Whispers, had Rayne's Ramblings for all things not writing, and a regular blog.

I was looking back through some of the older entries (I wrote them in a word processing program and then pasted them in) wondering if any of them had withstood the test of time well enough to be re-published. For the most part, that's a no, they didn't.

The next question was should I delete them? Again, no. Those old blogs are part of my history as a writer. I see how far I've come since the early days, and how far I need to travel to make it back to actively writing as Rayne Forrest. It's all good. Just another season in my life.

Rayne

Ch-ch-changes!

This turned out to be the Saturday I updated my website. The site needed it so it was time well spent. But why stop there? I decided to change the look of Twenty-six Keys, too.

Change can be good.

Now if Blogger would only get their "compose" option fixed.......

Rayne

A Bridge Just Far Enough

We passed a milestone this past week. Thursday marked six years since my partner's last major cancer surgery. Coincidentally, the day also marked six years since his last cigarette. I'm not sure what to say about a man who smoked his last cig in the parking deck of Johns Hopkins moments before he stepped inside for them to remove half his liver. Tough? Strong? Stupid? Contradictory? Let's go with the last one. It applies to all of us, doesn't it? 

If my partner had any special feelings about the day, he didn't voice them. Well, not in words, anyway. He called and said he was fixing dinner and I should come straight home and not "bee-hop" around town shopping. "Bee-hop" is a good local expression which means go from one location to another much as the way a honey bee goes from flower to flower to flower. 

Dinner was a quiet affair, with no mention of the significance of the day. If that seems strange to you, I will tell you it did not to us. We said all we needed to say eight years ago when the doctors said, "inoperable" and "give him a little extra time." Never have I been so grateful for a cadre of doctors to be so wrong. Trust me when I tell you after hearing those words meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn and green beans is a celebration feast. 

All this got me to thinking about bridges. Whether physical, or metaphysical, bridges carry us from one side to another, safely above whatever danger lies below. We encounter them every day, recognized or not, and we step across them to the other side. Sometimes we move with confidence, sometimes with fear, but we go. And frequently, what we find on the other side is something wonderful for us. 

I passed this little bridge one day on a quiet country road and was unable to resist its charm. I hope the owner didn't mind that I took a moment to walk across it, and back again. It looked so perfect I had to learn what it had to say to me, and what perspective it could show me. 

I think this bridge is waiting for someone else, maybe for the person who placed it there, and that's okay. It was enough to share its creek for a few moments before I moved on, looking for the next bridge, the one waiting for me. 

Rayne
website: http://www.rayneforrest.com

Step Into Tomorrow

Step Into Tomorrow. I wonder if I attempted to send myself a subliminal message when I settled on that title for my next book. Every book needs a title, and I prefer a title that has something to do with the actual story. Most folks do. The story has a time travel theme and requires a leap of faith for the heroine to stay with her man. Beyond that, don't we all step in tomorrow on a daily basis?

Step Into Tomorrow is set to release next weekend at the Amber Heat imprint of Amber Quill Press. I'm pleased to be associated with Amber Quill, which is a "by invitation only" publisher. The first ebook I ever purchased was at Amber Quill way back in 2003, and I quickly learned they were a cut above the rest when it the quality of the books they published. I hope that the Rayne Forrest brand will have a long association with Amber Quill Press.

Stepping into a new year, with a new publisher, has made me stop and once again seriously consider if it's time to launch a new author brand. I've learned so much, grown so much, that perhaps it's time for a fresh start. Author branding is something to think about. My older stories - Across Time, The Curiosity Shoppe, Truest Treasure, A Hero's Bargain, Mountain High, Under a Painted Moon - remain as good stories, but my voice as a writer has matured. I've pondered the question of a fresh start for a while.

If I want to explore some of the ideas for stories I have, it may be the way to go. It's always good for a reader to know what to expect when they buy a book from [fill in the name]. I don't think a Rayne Forrest reader would like to buy a Rayne Forrest book and discover it was something other than erotic romance. Say...inspirational. This is what I mean by author branding.

I guess I won't find a clear answer until I step into some more distant tomorrow. Perhaps like most other important decisions in my life, I'll simply wake up one morning and know. My continued musings on the subject probably mean I will start anew some day, but the right time to do so hasn't yet arrived. Know thyself.

While I search for the perfect path to take, I have the opportunity to work with some amazing people, for which I'm grateful.

So...next weekend, new book! If you'd like to read an excerpt, I invite you to visit my website at http://www.rayneforrest.com/StepIntoTomorrow.html . If you'd like to get on the Amber Quill Press mailing list, visit http://www.amberquillpress.com/AQP_newsletters.html to sign up. Or you can check back at Twenty-six Keys. After the book goes live, I'll be making the promo rounds on the blogs and such.

Until then, play safe.

Rayne

UPDATE: Step Into Tomorrow is now available at Amber Heat at
http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/413-Step-Into-Tomorrow.aspx

The Old South Mountain Inn

I'm not sure what it means to when you start the New Year on an off note. Does it mean the entire year will be like that? I certainly hope not. Perhaps I need to discount last night as some sort of aberration, a sort of late visit by the spirits who tormented old Ebeneezer. Only the message isn't to mend my ways, but to look closer below the surface of reputation.

Being New Year's Eve, my beloved suggested we choose a very nice restaurant and go out to dinner. Even in this horrible economy we had a good year, so yeah, okay, I agreed we should splurge. We'd make the drive to the Old South Mountain Inn.

We won't ever go back.

Arriving early to hopefully beat the crowd, the first thing I noticed, or more correctly didn't notice, was reserved handicap parking. My beloved has a neuropathy, a lingering side effect of the chemotherapy he received five years ago. He doesn't walk well, and the parking lot wasn't even paved. It was a sign. There was not handicap ramp, either. He'd have to manage a few steps. We'd made the drive, so we went in.

The restaurant has a lovely glass-enclosed 'garden room' which was beautifully decorated. We estimated it could seat about one hundred, and it was about one-third full. The waiter (or whatever the PI term is these days) arrived promptly, and immediately informed us he wouldn't (wouldn't, not couldn't)split our check four and two.

Okay, we can deal with that. We ordered. My beloved and my stepdad ordered a beer. My beloved had to ask for a glass. One was brought. My stepdad wrongly assumed he'd get one, too, and had to send the waiter back for one for him. Is it just me, or IS drinking beer from a bottle at a [supposedly] five-star restaurant really acceptable?

Two of us ordered the same appetizer, sausage stuffed mushroom caps. Hollandaise? That must have been the caramelized, fried stuff in the bottom of the dish. Nasty.

I ordered a New York Strip, well done. My beloved ordered a fillet, medium. When dinner arrived, his fillet had been butterflied and was well done. My NY strip was bloody in the center, which I just can't... Okay, that's enough to ruin my morning coffee. I'm not that tough. I can't eat raw meat.

My beloved instructed the waiter to return my steak for a bit more cooking time. What was returned to me was a piece of shoe leather that didn't even have the same shape as the original steak. (I'm sure it wasn't the same steak.) It was burnt to a crisp. I managed to trim the outer edges and eat part of the center, but a very expensive ($28.00) steak was wasted.

We opted out of dessert and coffee, and fled to the comfort of home, our new coffee pot, and some cheap grocery-store brand ice cream. So went my fine dining experience at what is supposed to be Washington County's premiere restaurant. Our waiter did end up splitting our check four and two. Maybe he felt sorry for us. We did tip him, six bucks per person. I hope he's not required to share that with the "chef."

So here I am on New Year's Day, having to start the year off recounting a regretable experience. I'm happy for the owners of the Old South Mountain Inn that they don't need my repeat business. I'm disappointed I can't recommend them.

Next year, we're going to a restaurant where we know with certainty we'll get exactly what we pay for - Burger King.

Rayne

To serve the future best

It's been a long, hot summer. Is that an understatement? Depends on where you live. It's almost September, and it hasn't cooled off. I begin to think the snows of last winter are preferable. The heat sucks the energy out of a person, leaving the body listless but the brain overactive.

I've been grappling with what is a serious issue in a writer's life: What do I need to do to continue in this business? A straightforward question, but one with multi-tiered implications and few pat answers.

"They" say to be successful in epublishing you need to maintain a current Internet presence and promote. Let's face it. You can't spend your time on the Internet sucking up to everyone and still have time - and energy - to write something. Maybe I shouldn't mention this, but I've been a few places on the Internet that exhibit a decided lack of maturity, and therefore are not a good way to spend valuable time.

It's been a long process, but several of the epublishing houses have accomplished what I always knew would happen. The cream is rising. I have a very short list of houses I would allow my name to be associated with, which brings me to the thorniest consideration of all: The Name.

It's well accepted among authors that name recognition can run a course, and when that happens, it's okay to start over with a new pen name. Perhaps that has some merit for the Rayne Forrest name.

"Rayne" didn't know much when she started out. A smidgen of talent got her started, but she made a lot of mistakes. Her voice is stronger now, more confident. She has matured along with the epublishing industry. So how best to step into tomorrow without letting go of best things of the past? Those best things being a readership that appreciated the Rayne Forrest brand.

Thorny, yes? Insurmountable, no.

As the industry moves forward, so will I. Blending a past imperfect with plans for the future bright is something we all do every day. The past is a road map that shows us what works, and those pitfalls we stumbled into. Yes, it's too bad the map stops abruptly at our feet without showing us the next proper step, but that's what makes it interesting.

Have I allowed this internal debate to interfere with moving forward? Has it stopped me from taking that next step with fears of a misstep? Sadly, I think it has. But the need to share my thoughts tells me that a decision is at hand. I only wish I knew for sure what it will be.

All I know is that in my own personal life, the decision will come in the midst of doing something else. It will simply be there as if it had always existed, and I'll know it's the right thing for me.

Rayne