BREATH of DRAGONS Release Date

Hey Everyone!

I've been getting a lot of questions about the release date of Book 3. (Thank you. The pressure both encourages me and stresses me out. Hehe.) 

I am sorry to say she won't be ready by Thanksgiving. I've been trying VERY hard to make that happen, but I have succumbed to the fact that it shall not. One of the biggest reasons being that BREATH OF DRAGONS is, oh, about 30% longer than her predecessors. Apparently, she had a lot to say. :D

Right now, BoD is in the hands of my wonderful and BRILLIANT betas (THANKS, GUYS!). I'd originally intended to be at this point in August. And, well...

Suffice it to say the release date has been pushed back to: 

Tuesday, January 21, 2014.

I want to THANK YOU guys for sticking with me. Your enthusiasm and encouragement always pushes me foreword. I have THE BEST readers. And I know how frustrating it can be, reading a series before it's done. You have to wait and wait andwaitandwaitandwait for what feels like FOREVER. So even there, I am flattered by your support. I'm doing my best to have this out in a timely fashion, but I won't let her go until she's absolutely ready.

I must prevent this:

And then I will begin working on the last, and final, book in the series.

If you want to be kept up-to-date on giveaways/contests/etc. as the release date approaches, just follow me at: https://www.facebook.com/GaiasSecretSeries

Thanks again for ALL the poking and prodding, and have a wonderful Thursday!!

XO

BREATH OF DRAGONS Cover Reveal!

This has to be one of my favorite aspects of the writing process: when my story gets a face.

So here it is, the face of BREATH OF DRAGONS, book #3 in my Gaia's Secret series, which will *hopefully* be released this holiday season. :D

If you would like to be kept up to date with information regarding BREATH OF DRAGONS' release into the world, and/or future book giveaways, just "like" my Gaia's Secret page!

Happy Labor Day!

A Grand Canyon of Distraction

A few weeks ago, Ben and I decided to take our eight-month old, Brahm, on a little weekend excursion to the Grand Canyon. Summers are a little *warm* in the desert, and the only possible way to survive them is to either (1) stay inside or (2) leave. Since we'd been doing our fair share of the former, we opted for the latter.

You may or may not know that the elevation of the Grand Canyon averages about 8000ft (or 2500m for my metric friends), so the 30 degree drop in temperature was FABULOUS.

We drive there. We park our car, grab Brahm and our cameras and walk to the rim. Now, I've been to the Grand Canyon once before with my family when I was about, oh, fifteen? Even so, nothing quite prepares you for the magnitude of it. Just when you think you've found the bottom, you realize it cuts even farther, and you may - if you find just the right vantage point - spot a sliver of the Colorado River below. The canyon is grand in every sense of the word and inspires a few moments of silent awe.

Or at least it should.

But, no. I took one look at it and started telling Ben how I wanted to arrange a family photo. Ben just kinda looked at me. He did not understand my photographical impatience - it wasn't like the Grand Canyon was going anywhere. He wanted a few moments to just...look.

Oh, that.

You mean, just sit an ENJOY looking at something without immediately reaching for my phone so that I can text a photo to someone.

I've apparently formed a pretty bad habit. There are so many things I've allowed to "demand" my attention, and sometimes those things prevent me from appreciating the here and now. I was so concerned about recording the experience that I forgot to just experience.

Especially now with a boy of almost nine-months, I find my attention diverted more than ever.
I mean, the kid's mouth is like a black hole - anything within a five foot radius seems to find its way into it. So, yeah. CONSTANT VIGILANCE. But he is allowed to take my attention. Social media is not.

In a way, it's similar to writing. I always love reaching the point in a draft where I can edit away the clutter - the distractions - where the words no longer get in the way and the story can finally shine through. But I know to look for it in my drafts; I don't always know to look for it in my life.

It was an "Ah ha!" moment for me. (I seem to be having those a lot, lately.) There are so, so many things vying for our attention in this technologically connected world. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Blogger, Goodreads, Pinterest, blahblahblahblahblah... While I love the connectedness (shoot, most of my writer-friends I've met through the world wide web!), it also comes with its downsides, and for me, it's failing to shut off that connectedness when I should. Be here. Live now. Nothing reminds me more of this than seeing the rate our little boy is growing and changing. He's crawling everywhere, and I feel like we brought him home from the hospital yesterday.

I think it will always present a challenge for me. I'm not sure what the solution is or if there really is one. Like everything in life, it is a balance and balance seems to require an exhaustive amount of attention, care, and reevaluation.

Do any of you deal with this?

We did manage to get some photos, though :D I mean - it was Brahm's first "vacation"! It's the only proof he'll ever have that he was there.

Oh, and for those of you wondering, here's where Gaia #3 is at...  I have been BUSY BUSY working on it. It's almost beta-ready (thanks again, guys!! Could NOT do this without you!!), then I'm giving it to my BRILLIANT editor in October (Laura, you're amazing) so that it can be out by Thanksgiving! I'll keep you posted, though.

Now, for the photos...

Dairy Queen in Williams, AZ, right off Historic Route 66. Also, I must note
that Brahm did not much care for ice cream. It was too cold on his little teeth :D

A Hodgepodge (somewhat)

Um, it's been a while.

I confess that I transfigured myself into an ostrich and recently decided it was time to pull my head from the sand for a few minutes (mostly, to listen to Atoms of Peace on repeat. SERIOUSLY. I would like to hire Thom Yorke to write a soundtrack for my stories. And life.)

But I also wanted to say: I'M ALIVE.

*side note: my blog is glowering at me right now because I haven't visited it in a while.*

I suppose I could start by saying my life has completely and utterly changed and will never be the same.
   Like Ever.

Babies do that, and somehow I find myself being the mother of a six-month old (who, I believe, is part pterodactyl). For the first few months of his precious little life, I'd gone back to work. Because my job required I travel (on planes), it quickly became A CHALLENGE. We tried and tried to make it work - it was my dream job, and I'd worked very hard to get there - but it simply would not. Being gone all night and leaving my husband (who's in dental school ) to care for a newborn while he was supposed to be studying, with no family around to help ...um, er...

After "a few" meltdowns, the answer became very clear.

You should *probably* step aside.

For me, it was the ramifications that proved a bit more...difficult. I felt displaced. I guess it's sort of like having an identity crisis. Trying to somehow reconcile the old you to the new you, but the old you is throwing the mother of all tantrums because it doesn't really want to subject itself to the new you.

And then there's the other part. "My OTHER" part. The one that lives for two-toothed smiles and sings the most ridiculous songs and makes the goofiest faces just for a giggle. The one that changes diapers and makes baby food and cleans spit-up, but somehow doesn't mind at all. Because that part is incredibly grateful for the opportunity to do it. That part sees how fast it's all speeding right by and it doesn't want to miss a second! That part realizes a little person has run away with her heart.

It's taken some time balancing Professional Me with Mommy Me, but there's one other wonderful gift that's helped me adjust. It's helped me shape my seemingly opposing halves into pieces that can link together.  I have MUCH more time to write. Professional Me has been spoiled rotten with that, and she finds her creativity quite unbridled, as of late. I don't think I've been this immersed in my stories...well, ever. After I resigned from Dream Job, I set right to GAIA #3 and poured myself in to a rewrite. In just 3 weeks, I'm almost halfway done. I've also been down right terrible at emailing because of it. :P BUT! I'm loving this story so far, which I can't always say while I'm writing. I'm *hoping* that's a good sign. You BETAS will tell me, though, right?!

There you have it. A mixture of sorts. I am WORKING HARD to have this book done by fall (late), and will keep you posted on progress. (BETAS!!! I'LL NEED YOU!!! - ahem - you know who you are!!) And now I must get back to Chapter 12 before the Little One wakes up...

Also, I'd LOVE to hear how some of you make sense of your two halves. PLEASE SHARE.

You are all so wonderful and supportive and ENCOURAGING. Thank you.

~B

p.s. In honor of Ironman 3, I would also like to add that you are all such wonderful tangerines.

What To Do When You're Trapped in an Hourglass

Hourglasses make me nervous.

Don't ask me why; they just do. I think I'm scarred from playing too many boardgames as a child. Hey, don't laugh! You know that purple sand made your heart pound!

In light of recent, LIFE-ALTERING events, I've been thinking a lot about Time...mostly because it doesn't exist anymore. It's like an extinct species, sitting on a list somewhere next to the Dodo bird. It did, however, have the courtesy to leave me a suicide note before ending its wretched life:

Dear Psycho,

As if I wasn't emaciated enough by your job and your book #3 and working out and cooking and cleaning, then you had to go and have a baby. I decided to end my misery and be done with it. Don't bother looking for me; I'm finishing myself off with your laundry.

~Time

Theatrics aside, OH. MY. GOODNESS. I feel like I need to clone myself, and then clone all my clones. I'm sure I'll hit some sort of stride, now that I've returned to work, but right now....AOSSEIFJSKFASKFKASJEFKAJSEFKJ!!!!

Which brings me back to Princess Jasmine...

It's like every grain of sand dumping on top of my head is something I need to get done (let's be honest here...most of those things I put on myself...). We all have these moments; we all have times in life where we feel like we're juggling all seven Harry Potter books and then someone tells you to do it with your eyes closed. (Right now, I feel like I'm juggling our entire bookshelf...)

But if Princess Jasmine can survive it, so can you.

Rule #1) Don't Panic.
   Okay, so this is probably the hardest for me, but I'm *learning* that those dishes really can wait. And so can dusting things, like the baseboards. We've also invested in a Roomba ;D

Rule #2) Take a Step Back & BREATHE. (and try not to inhale sand.)
    In other words, TAKE A LONG, HOT SHOWER. No, really. Stay there awhile.

Rule #3) When All Else Fails, Wait for Aladdin to Rescue You.
    ...that would be Ben. He talks me through the chaos and helps me organize it into appropriate categories... he's also been surprising me with flowers. :D

So, I sincerely apologize for any lapse in communication or embarrassingly long delay between emails...I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN. I have been using EVERY spare second I have to finish this draft of book 3!

I Feel Like Gollum...

...like I've been in this dark and desolate cave, without hope of emerging, and have been petting my baby and calling him "Precious."

Okay, so maybe I'm being slightly melodramatic.

But, really. I'm not sure where the past few weeks have gone. They've all sort of blurred together in a giant mass of chaos, where Sleep and Order have been completely overthrown by a cute little tyrant called Baby.

How DOES he get away with such madness?? Oh, wait. I know. Like this:

How does one build up proper defenses to such a creature? Well, one doesn't. Somehow, through the sleepless nights and MOUNTAINS of diapers and laundry (SERIOUSLY?!), that beautiful little tyrant steals your heart away. His gummy smiles turn you into a puddle of goo, and the way he stares at you - a beautiful combination of discovery and comfort - you forget what you were doing. You forget that you were in the middle of The Great War Against Dust Bunnies and that you were losing - dreadfully - because you can't help but stare back into those eager eyes while making funny faces at each other.

But initially, it just feels like chaos.

His days are your nights; he poops his body weight multiple times a day. You're peed on, pooped on, puked on, and then he pees on the PJs you JUST washed because he peed on them 3 hours ago... When "they" say a newborn can eat every two hours, that doesn't mean in between feedings. No, it means everything happens WITHIN a two hour period. IE you feed him for 30-40 minutes, change his diaper, play with him, put him down for a 1 hour nap, and then he's hungry again.

But it was more than that. Nothing in the world could have prepared me to be so entrusted with another human life. The first week of his life, that responsibility hit me...hard. I felt completely overwhelmed (and undeserving), which, of course, displayed itself every day via an outpouring of tears... (thank you, Hormones...poor Ben...)

And then...the chaos changes.

It's a strange thing to have your life work in one fashion for so long (30 years!) and then to have it all flipped upside down and turned inside out. I've realized a lot about myself, and the biggest realization has been just how selfish I am. I've always been very protective *UNDERSTATEMENT* with my time, and now time isn't mine to protect.

But, interestingly enough, I don't mind.

It took me a good three weeks, but the chaos finally transformed into some form of predictability. And now that the dust is settling (on all the black furniture - WAR!), I'm starting to feel myself again - a different me, but me, no less. I'm recovering fast and getting some sleep, albeit incrementally (BTW sleep training is HARD, but it does wonders! I'm so thankful for the advice and encouragement from friends that were successful with it. And I'm thankful for my noise-cancelling headphones :D).

Just last week, Baby Kloss and I had our first "outing" together: Target. Of course he slept the entire time, but I count it as success and a mark that some form of normalcy shall be restored. Also, I've commenced working on book #3; my inspiration has RETURNED! And oh, it's a glorious thing...it was gone almost the entirety of pregnancy. My only problem now is that I can't type fast enough during those 30-45 minute segments of time I'm granted.

I'll never understand how such a tiny person can run away with your heart. He is absolutely perfect and healthy and beautiful, and it's astounding how much he grows and changes EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. He's almost a month old and already a pound heavier (he's got a ways to go to catch up to Daddy), and each day he's more alert, making more noises *MELTS*, and smiling more. (I've already doubled the photo count on my phone.) One of my new favorite things is to watch him with Ben. They already have a bond that's unique to them, and Ben always seems to be able to get him to relax in a way that I can't. Samson is also adjusting. The first time he heard Baby Kloss cry, Samson barked at him, and now he's bringing Baby Kloss his toys, expecting him to throw them.

And now it's time for me to go... gotta wake Baby Kloss so that we can go to Target and get sprinkles to make Christmas cookies :D

Creativity: A Mental Disorder

WHAAAAA?!

Okay, so if you look at any published book on the topic of "Mental Disorders," you probably won't find "Creativity" in the bulleted list. But, see...that's what makes it so dangerous. It's the sneaky cousin to Bi-Polar, father of Anxiety, and the mother of OCD.

I came to this horrendous realization whilst I was making a kind of craft project for The Hubs for our anniversary. Now, those of you that know me know I don't do crafts. I repeat: I. DON'T. DO. CRAFTS. (I prefer things with a delete key or Edit --> Undo.) But for whatever reason, I thought it'd be fun to try something different this year - something The Hubs wouldn't be expecting (...at all...). And most of that craft had to do with computer stuff - which is right up my alley - but then came...the paint and distressing.

O_O

By the end, I didn't know which was more distressed: my project, or myself.

I smiled; I cried. I loved it; I hated it. I wanted to hang it on the wall; I wanted to throw it in Dante's Inferno. I couldn't stand to look at it anymore, so I shoved it in a closet for a few days and when I pulled it back out... (repeat aforementioned sequence)

What was WRONG with me? It was like I was Bipolar, or something. And then came Anxiety: What on EARTH would he think? Would he hate it? Was it cheesy? Of course, OCD-like tendencies kicked in, and I COULD NOT STOP OBSESSING about it.

Then I realized that I do this very thing with writing. I don't seem to recognize it with my stories, though, because I'm so wrapped up in them that I wouldn't see the warning signs if they were tattooed on my fingers.

Some days, I love my story. Others, I think a five-year old could do better. I obsess and obsess, scribble notes all over everything, and when it finally comes time to hand it to my betas...















Creating is HARD. Yes, it's one of the most rewarding and fulfilling things, but it's also one of the most challenging - at least it is for me, anyway. There's nothing else that makes me oscillate between such emotional extremes. Or gives me a minor panic attack when I hand it out for feedback. Or makes me obsess so much that I forget to eat or finish my sentence while plot bunnies jump around in my brain.

*side note* If this has happened while you were talking to me, I do apologize. I have no control over those bunnies. 

*side note to side note* Also, in my defense, "plot bunnies" are not as innocent as they sound. They're more like the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog in Monty Python and the Holy Grail... (see below)




So maybe calling "Creativity" a "Mental Disorder" is a bit of a misnomer. Maybe referring to it as a causative agent is more accurate. But how - OH HOW! - to deal with it?

Unless one stops creating altogether, I don't know if there is a remedy. BUT! I do like this quote, because it helps me understand the very root of those bipolar-esque extremes...

...and it also supports the OCD argument... =)

I'd like to hear if (1) any of you can relate and (2) how you deal with it!