Beyond Stone dropped on the subway last week.
Books On The Subway is a non-profit organization that leaves books on the New York subway for people to find and read for free.
The books have stickers which say:
TAKE me with you, READ me, and RETURN me for someone else to enjoy.
Check out it’s website: booksonthesubway.com
So happy that Beyond Stone was part of this wonderful program!
Did you find a copy? Let me know in the comments below!
Go to navigatingindieworld.com before it’s spring event is over. The site is beautifully divided into genres – so you can go directly to your favorite genre and peruse the books therein or you can explore new genres.
Discover a new book. Meet a new author. Enter a giveaway.
You’ll find ‘Beyond Stone’ under Contemporary Psychological Fiction. I chose this genre because the story delves into Andie’s inner thoughts and feelings.
Psychological novels, also called psychological realism, focus on the emotional and psychological development of the characters. In these stories, you become privy to a character’s inner world.
At Navigating Indieworld you’ll find not only Contemporary Psychological Fiction, but also Romance, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Horror, Mystery, Thriller, Children’s Fiction, Travel Fiction, Memoir, and Young Adult, among other genres.
Hurry! It’s the last day of the Spring Event!
This winter, storms battered the coast with rain and wind. Ocean waves reached scary heights. There was drama, fury, and beauty.
Below is a photo of my sculpture titled ‘Storm’.
California Borrego Alabaster
I woke early to the sound of the garbage truck rumbling down the street. Shoot! I forgot to put the trash can out. I jumped out of bed, threw on my clothes, shoved my feet into boots, and ran out of the house. Headlights illuminated the dark street as I wheeled the can out. But when I got to the street there was no car. The light came from this morning moon:
Rain soaked cloak
summer’s fallen joy –
browning in frost, fog,
turning to humus in
promises of renewal.
A grant of shelter for
creeping things –
warmed by mother’s deep
fire within –
a sustaining sustenance
for life, recreation of hope –
we hunker down –
nesting – for a spring we
hope will arrive. So a
surety we never ask
‘But will it come?’
— Willie Oliver Wolfe
So excited that my novel, Beyond Stone, was chosen to go into swag bags at the Golden Globes!
I spent November writing the first draft of a new novel, learning how to podcast, and prepping for an audiobook version of Beyond Stone. I also put a Newsletter sign up page on this site. A very busy month.
December is proving to be just as busy. Last Saturday I had a book signing and reading at an art gallery which is the perfect place for a book whose main character is an artist.
To hear about future events, get updates on new releases, and my writing projects, please sign up for my Newsletter.
Magnolia tree blooming in December!
It was raining today as I sat in the Mobile Writing Studio working on my NaNoWriMo novel. And windy. The van rocked as the rain pelted. I sipped my coffee and wrote, transported to the world my characters live in. Today, it was raining there too.
The countdown to NaNoWriMo has begun and it’s time to prep. When signing up this year, I went to claim a Pantser badge when I noticed a new one – Plantser.
This intrigued me – what is a Plantser?
A Pantser is one who flies by the seat of their pants – he or she sits down on November 1st with a blank screen and no plan.
A Planner is one who has, well – a plan. Usually an outline of the plot, descriptions of the characters, etc.
A Plantser draws from both worlds. This badge describes a Plantser as one who will start on November 1st with a comfortable mix of improvisation and loose structure.
That’s me this year!
I have a story idea and a logline. I have a protagonist and an antagonist. I have a beginning and an ending and a couple of plot points between. The rest will unfold as I type.
So I’m declaring myself a Plantser for NaNoWriMo 2016.
Out come rubber boots, fingerless gloves, scarves, and hoodies. Fall is here!
I would grasp even
her falling feathers
to weave into the fabric
of our dreams —
fluttering leaves spiral down
into disappearing mist.
— Willie Oliver Wolfe