Great site for wanting to market your book!

http://www.lifehack.org/articles/communication/ten-great-ways-to-promote-your-book.html

After I finished reading this post, it got the wheels turning. There are so many different ways to promote. Most of them include me getting outside myself...something I'm not really used to, but success has to be made with a determined spirit. I can face all challenges once I prepare myself!

Sometimes picture are better then words...no?

  Sometimes we need the light to shine through the darkness, but the thing is....how wonderful is the light that finally shines though. Sometimes I can't even find the words to describe the feelings I am having, but this picture is exactly what I would describe, if I did have the words at the time. Take a look and ponder it. Tell me what it means to you. I already know what it means to me, and judging from my previous posts, I'm sure all my followers (the millions! LOL) will understand me a bit more. Looking for your feedback.  Goodnight!!! <3

Ahh Yes work!

Who would have ever thought that so much went into writing...even little nuances like the usage of "a" instead of "the". Ahhh how research will turn my craft into something more polished and refined than I ever thought possible!  I'm learning to have a trained eye for everything grammatical!!! AND I love it!

Query Letters!!!

Oh boy I'm definitely suffering from information overload! Why do queries have to be such a darn complicated. I research and research and redo and redo. It's exhausting! BUT who ever said that writing was easy huh? I suppose I should just suck it up and forge ahead!!!! Steamrolling!

Mirror

I remember when I saw her first. She only appeared in the mirror. She looked strangely familiar but I couldn't recollect where I seen her last. All I could recognize is the pale unappealing face of mine that I seen in the mirror. Each day I looked and looked and seen her there, in the distance...vague. I squint in order for her face to reveal herself to me but it doesn't work. My face seems to drag on, each day paler and sadder then before. I'm breaking and I could feel it. A miraculous thing happened as I broke one day, as I shed my tears and wiped my face I looked in the mirror to see my blemishes and the girl was a bit clearer. I stared at her, trying to pinpoint her familiarity. I left the bathroom and continued on with my day. Every morning I repeated my despair and washed my face and everyday she became clearer and clearer until I looked into the mirror and it wasn't the sad despair that I wore on my face anymore. I recognized the girl in the background, she was close enough for me to see....she was me.

Shiny

I was once that shiny toy, you know the one that is revered and loved above all things. No that isn't me anymore. I'm the broken toy that was dropped over and over again. I begged to be cared for, to be coddled but that wasn't no where to be found. My shine started to dissipate. What was found was a careless box that I was placed me in. I lived in this box yearning for my shiny old self back, the one that had aspirations and whose smile could not be fade away, where the name on the bottom of my shoe wasn't wasted. Who was this shiny toy...I couldn't remember as time wore on and paint chipped off. Finally as I lay next to the other toys I thought of something different. Maybe I wasn't broken...maybe I was always the shiny toy...The more I thought I was shiny, my shine radiated until I realized I was never broken, only felt that way.

Old school poetry for my rant today! YES ITS A RANT! LOL

Love a child is ever crying,
Please him, and he straight is flying;
Give him, he the more is craving,
Never satisfied with having.


His desires have no measure,
Endless folly is his treasure;
What he promiseth he breaketh;
Trust not one word that he speaketh.


He vows nothing but false matter,
And to cozen you he'l flatter.
Let him gain the hand, He'll leave you,
And still glory to deceive you.


He will triumph in your wailing, 
And yet cause be of your failing;
These his virtues are, and slighter
Are his gifts, his favors lighter.


Feathers are as firm in staying,
Wolves no fiercer in their preying
As a child then leave him crying,
Nor seek him, so given to flying.