Wednesday Writer’s Corner – August 14, 2013

Posted on August 14, 2013 by Lori Crane

Virtual Book Tours! YAY!!

(Photo from workingwritersclub.com)

Even if you’re published, publishers don’t support book tours anymore. So, a writer is left with two options: 1) schedule events and signings yourself or 2) do a virtual tour. Either way is a lot of work, but the virtual tour is far less expensive. I’m putting together a November tour for my coming release “Elly Hays,” so I’ve been doing tons of research and organizing it myself. I decided to do a fall tour because I notice a huge spike in sales following holidays. I assume it’s because of word-of-mouth at family gatherings, so I want to get the book in a lot of reader’s hands before Thanksgiving. That’s my theory anyway.

So, here’s what I’ve learned about Virtual Book Tours:

Preparedness, Organization, and Communication are the most important points.

Prepare all of your blogs, interviews, excerpts, links, media kits, photos, etc., far in advance.

Organize your items in folders on your computer, along with host information, schedule, etc. You need this all in one place. Excel spread sheet, anyone?

Communication with your hosts is key. Make a folder to keep all correspondence. Invitation, Follow up, Confirmation, Reminder, and Final Thank You.

I guess the next step is to be WAY ahead of yourself. Give yourself at least two months to plan.

Set up an account to do a giveaway. Rafflecopter is awesome.

Consider offering an end-of-tour Twitter Chat on one day for one hour with a specific hashtag. Announce it throughout the tour.

Have some crafty photo-shop-type person make you a banner.

Promote Promote Promote before during and after!!!!!

As I mentioned before, I’m setting up a tour for November 4-16. If you have room for me on your blog, please let me know, and I’ll put together whatever type of post you’d like to feature. Email me at loricraneauthor@gmail.com and we’ll choose a date and content. If you’d like to do a review, I can supply you with a free paperback, Kindle, or Nook.

I put the PRO in Procrastinate

Posted on August 13, 2013 by Lori Crane

I’m not going to bore you with the mountains of work in front of me, but I AM going to complain that there are just not enough hours in the day to complete it all. And it seems the more work there is to do, the more I’d rather blow it off and play video games.

I bought a new planner today. I figure if I write “WRITE 10am” on August 13th, I’ll actually write at 10am on August 13th instead of checking Facebook or my email. Do you think that will work? Probably not, but I’m going to try it anyway. Of course, I haven’t written anything in there yet. It’s on my to-do list.

I think I’m just overwhelmed by my own self-imposed deadlines. Among other things, I was going to have my new manuscript rewrites completed in August. Well, it’s August 12th…no, wait…August 13th, and I have the first two chapters finished. It’s a 30-chapter book. Ugh.

You may think I’m procrastinating by writing this blog, but posting a blog is actually on my to-do list for today. So there! According to my time-zone, I still have 43 minutes to complete this blog.

Give me some help here. How do you un-procrastinate yourself??

Wednesday Writer’s Corner – Aug 7, 2013

Posted on August 7, 2013 by Lori Crane

In honor of my coming October book release of “Elly Hays,” today’s Writer’s Corner will be about the book’s heroine, Elizabeth Hays Rodgers, and how she came to be the center of a novel.

She was the only daughter of Samuel Hays and Elizabeth Priscilla Crawford, born in North Carolina in 1774. She spent her young childhood in the unrest of the Revolutionary War. She married when she was sixteen, and after twenty-one years of marriage and eleven children, her husband decided to uproot the family from Tennessee and start a new life in the Mississippi Territory. Considering what they were walking into, I had to write her story. A portion of it is below. It will help you understand that area of the country at that time in history.

The (unedited) Prologue

In 1811, America was on the verge of war. The victory in the Revolutionary War gave Americans their independence, but the newly formed country had many unresolved issues. Americans had a vast frontier to settle and they considered the land now known as Canada to be part of their land. They wanted to expand northward and westward, but the British joined forces with the Native Indians in an attempt to prevent the Americans from expanding in either direction.

The British had also begun restricting America’s trade with France and the mighty Royal Navy ruled the seas. The Royal Navy had more than tripled in size due to their war with France, and they needed sailors. They captured American merchant ships off the coast of America and forced the men with British accents to join the ranks of the Royal Navy, proclaiming they were not American, but indeed British. Kidnappings and power struggles in shipping ports like New Orleans loomed over the newly formed United States.

The British not only invaded the southern coastal cities of the United States, but also the eastern seaboard, attacking Baltimore and New York, and burning Washington D.C. to the ground. The War of 1812 is historically referred to as the second war for independence. It was the battle for boundaries and identity for the Americans.

Sadly, the Native American Indians had the most to lose in the power struggle. Shawnee warrior Tecumseh was but a child when he witnessed his father brutally murdered by a white frontiersman. His family moved from village to village and witnessed each destroyed at the hands of the white men during and after the American Revolution. As a young teen, following the Revolution, he formed a band of warriors who attempted to block the expansion of the white man into their territory, but the effort saw no lasting result. Conflict with the white man was a battle he had fought all his life, and as a warrior now in his early forties, he knew the stakes were high for the Indians in the coming battle. He traveled the southeast, coaxing the numerous Indian nations to unite against the white man, promising help from the British in the form of weapons and ammunition, and offering reinstatement of the Indian’s lost lands upon victory. Tecumseh’s prophet, who traveled with him into Creek territory, forecasted a victory, foreseeing no Creeks being wounded or killed in the battle.

In the Eastern Mississippi Territory, which later became the state of Alabama, the Creek Indians were divided. Many Creek villages had been trading with the white man for years and participated in civilization programs offered by the United States government. These Creeks had been taught the ways of the white man. They spoke English, could read and write, and even incorporated white man’s tools into their daily lives. They traded or were given gifts of plows, looms, and spinning wheels, and had no qualms with the white man. Many had married whites, and they did not want to join in the fight.

In opposition, many villages joined with Tecumseh, for they wanted to maintain their way of life, claiming the white man’s ways would destroy their culture. They had witnessed the white man encroaching on their lands, destroying their forests and villages, and polluting their streams. And probably, some suspected the white man’s intent was not co-existence but domination, for they had seen this come to fruition in the treatment of the black slaves.

In 1811 and 1812, tribal tensions were growing due to these differences in beliefs, and this caused a great war in the Creek nation called The Red Stick War. It was a civil war fought between the Creek people, but by 1813, it expanded to include the American frontiersmen and the U.S. government. At the height of the War of 1812, the Creeks were at war with nearly everyone, including their own people.

It was in this turmoil that a white farming family moved from their home in Tennessee to the fertile farmlands of the eastern Mississippi Territory, a place known today as Clarke County, Alabama. James Rodgers, his wife Elly, and their eleven children unknowingly entered a hornet’s nest.

If you have read the first book in the Okatibbee Creek series, “Okatibbee Creek,” you will be familiar with its heroine, Mary Ann Rodgers. “Elly Hays” is about Mary Ann’s paternal grandmother, Elizabeth Hays Rodgers, better known as Elly. If you have not read any of the Okatibbee Creek series, they are a collection of stories about one family and the strong women of our past. These are the real-life stories of my grandmothers, aunts, and cousins, but if you live in the U. S., they could also be the stories of your female ancestors – the women who fought for us, for our safety, our lives, and our freedom, and who sacrificed everything with the depth of their love and their astounding bravery.

“Elly Hays“ will be release October 2013 in paperback, Kindle, and Nook.

Back in the USA!

Posted on July 31, 2013 by Lori Crane

Hi everyone! I’ve miss you all so much and will hop around the next week and catch up. I have been working out of town for the last eight weeks and completely out of the country for the last five. I have one thing to say about the experience: Satellite Internet is for the birds!

So, now that I’m back, here are the highlights from my last eight weeks: I’ve been working on a ship and going back and forth to Bermuda which is a lovely place. I passed the Statue of Liberty a dozen times. I watched 4th of July fireworks from a UK territory (Thought that was funny!). I had chefs and housekeepers take care of me so much that I admit I’m lazy now and a few pounds heavier. I missed my pets and my trophy hubby more than words can say. I met amazing people from all over the world and now have new and fabulous friends who have invited me to wonderful places like Honolulu and Barcelona. I lost my luggage only once (Deltas fault, not mine). In my downtime, which was constant, I finished the rough draft of my next novel “Elly Hays” and hope to release it in October.

That’s about it. Here are photos:

Oh, look, there’s the Statue of Liberty…again

My floating office

Bermuda’s Horseshoe Bay

I visited a lot of historical sites. This is St. Peter’s Church in St. George, Bermuda. It was built in 1602.

…and the Maritime Museum at Heritage Wharf. Those stone walls don’t look that big, but they were over 20 feet high.

My job

My desk

Wednesday Writer’s Corner – Book Release Day Ugh

Posted on June 19, 2013 by Lori Crane

You know what’s really strange? The feeling you get on release day.

One would think that after the effort and confusion of toiling over a story line, endless months of rewrites and revisions, editing, doubting everything including your writing abilities, correcting, changing, seeing all the red marks on the editor’s copy, more revisions, and tons and tons or proofreading, that one would feel a huge sense of accomplishment and anticipation. If nothing else, just a sense of satisfaction or relief that the project is finished.

But no…

I always feel like I just sent my kindergartner off to her first day of class without her lunch. I know she’s going to get on the wrong bus, the teacher won’t like her, and she’ll be picked on by the other kids.

It’s not a good feeling.

That being said…here’s my new release. Sigh. Pout. Whine. Fingers crossed.

Also, today I’m leaving the country until August 1st – not because of the book – I actually have a job and am going to work. So, Stuckey, play nice with the other kids until I get home. I hope to see a good report card when I return.

“The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” is available in paperback and Kindle at Amazon HERE.

Here’s the video trailer:

Liebster Award

Posted on June 12, 2013 by Lori Crane

A big thank you to Denise Hammond for honoring me with the coveted Liebster Award. Check out her blog here. We met during the April A to Z Challenge. She blogs, she photographs, she travels…always new and awesome things on her blog…and she’s a fellow Michigander, so we share a deep love for Michigan weather. (That was sarcasm. Do we have a font for that?)

First thing is 11 unknown facts about me, then 11 questions posed by Denise, then my 11 nominees and the 11 questions I pose to them.

11 UNKNOWN THINGS ABOUT ME:

1. I’m a work-a-holic. (That may actually be known to many of you.)

2. I’m right-handed, but I play baseball left-handed.

3. I am a certified nutritionist and a personal trainer.

4. My favorite singer is Paul Rogers from Bad Company.

5. I’m a GREAT cook!

6. I’m an only child and an orphan.

7. I’ve spent approximately ¼ of my life on airplanes, in hotels, and on tour buses.

8. I’m an eternal optimist, unless I’m tired, then I’m sure the world will end in the next thirty minutes.

9. I couldn’t survive a day without creating something.

10. I’m a numbers freak.

11. Excedrin is my best friend.

11 QUESTIONS FROM DENISE:

1. If you could receive any award in the world, what would it be? Winning a Pulitzer would be nice, wouldn’t it?

2. If you could run for any election and win, what would you run for? I wouldn’t like to run for anything; the current political arena is far too nasty for me.

3. Assuming it is raining for days on end and you are stuck at home, what would you do to wile away the time? Sleep, work on my next novel, cook something, and play dumb games on the computer.

4. Describe yourself in one word. Tired…Oh, no, wait, you probably mean in general…Organized.

5. What is the most fun you have ever had? (keep it clean) In high school, our choir sang at Greenfield Village for a holiday function. When we finished, we spent the whole day running around, goofing off, and laughing like crazy. That was the silliest day ever!

6. What place to visit is number one on your bucket list? Egypt. I’d love to visit the pyramids.

7. What food is your ‘guilty pleasure’? It’s a toss-up between chocolate and bacon. Maybe chocolate covered bacon. Yum.

8. If you could be a character in someone’s novel, which author (living or dead) would you choose? E. B. White – I would love to be the spider in Charlotte’s Web. She was wise beyond her years and had the patience of a saint.

9. The beach or the mountains for vacation? I work a lot at resorts and on cruise ships, so MY vacation is definitely the mountains.

10. If you could own any car, what would you drive? A two-door black Jaguar with the little kitty emblem on the hood.

11. I stated in a previous blog that if I won the lottery I would buy an Aston Martin DB9 (I’m drooling right now). What would you ‘splurge’ on if you won the lottery? I’d hire a cook. I love fresh, homemade, wholesome food, but don’t always have the time to put it together.

MY 11 NOMINEES:

Author Angie Skelhorn

A Hundred Years Ago

Ellis Nelson

John W. Howell

11 QUESTIONS FOR THOSE WHO ACCEPT THIS AWARD:

1. If you could do anything right now, what would it be?

2. Why aren’t you doing it?

3. What’s your favorite band or favorite song?

4. Are you a people person?

5. What was your very first job?

6. Where was the best place you ever visited?

7. If they offered free trips to the moon, would you go?

8. PB&J or BLT?

9. What one thing reminds you of high school? (good or bad)

10. What will you be doing 20 years from now?

11. What do you hope will be mentioned in your eulogy?

“The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge”

Posted on May 27, 2013 by Lori Crane

My new book “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” is due to be released June 21, 2013. It will be available in paperback, Kindle, and Nook at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers. Here’s the hot-off-the-presses video trailer which will give you a shiver up your spine.

In 1901, the Virginia Bridge & Iron Company began re-building a fifty-year-old Mississippi bridge. In the middle of the project, they began discovering bodies buried on the banks of the river.

Legend has it, he was so evil, he was even thrown out of the notorious Dalton Gang. Years later, he opened an inn near the river, and on foggy nights, boatmen witnessed him pacing back and forth across the bridge, waving his lantern, offering travelers a hot meal and a soft bed.

Those unfortunate enough to take him up on the hospitality were often never seen again.

To this day, eerie experiences are still reported around the bridge that now bears his name. If you travel down to Stuckey’s Bridge, be careful, for not much else is known about the man locals refer to as Old Man Stuckey…until now.

Saturday Snippet – May 25, 2013

Posted on May 25, 2013 by Lori Crane

The following is a sneak peek from my new, soon-to-be-released book “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge.” It is a work of Historical Fiction, but as you’ll see in a moment, it could easily be classified as a Thriller.

Set up: 1900, a foggy night in Mississippi. Old Man Stuckey has opened an inn on the river, and when visitors are unfortunate enough to take him up on his offer of a hot meal and a soft bed, they are often never seen again. On this particular evening, there are two boys staying with him. They were passing through on their way home from selling a load of cotton downriver. They have a lot of money on them, and Old Man Stuckey would like to relieve them of it. They have retired for the night, and Old Man Stuckey has set out to find the loot. If they remain in their beds, it will be a simple task, but in Old Man Stuckey’s world, things are never quite so easy.

************************************************

He staggered down to the river to inspect the boat, carrying an ax in one hand and a lantern in the other. He realized as he walked that he may have consumed one too many swigs of whiskey, for he didn’t remember the path being this difficult to navigate, and he giggled to himself as he stumbled toward the bank. The cool mist of the fog felt good on his face, but the lack of visibility made him feel a little disoriented. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was caused by the fog or the whiskey.

He reached the river, placed the lamp on the ground next to the boat, and crawled aboard. He searched around the deck, under the seats, and down in the hole, but he found nothing.

“Damn. Why do they always keep the money on them?” he mumbled.

“Hey! What are you doing there?” called the skinny boy as he unexpectedly appeared and neared the boat.

“I was just making sure your boat was tied up securely.” The words ‘sure’ and ‘securely’ came out in a slur, but he ignored them as he climbed out of the boat, back onto the bank. He still held the rusty ax in his hand.

“Why do you need an ax to check on the boat?”

“Oh,” he looked down at the ax, “Just in case I run into something out in the woods. You can never be too careful out here, you know?”

“Don’t you have a gun?”

“Well, yes,” he said as he neared the boy, “But guns make noise.”

Before the boy had a chance to comprehend the meaning behind the words, he swung the ax high into the air and brought it down squarely on the boy’s head, splitting it like a watermelon. The boy collapsed into a mound at his feet, dragging the blade of the ax down with him. He tugged on the ax, trying to pull it free, but it wouldn’t dislodge. He pulled the handle again, but to no avail. He sighed in aggravation as he placed his muddy boot on the boy’s shoulder for leverage and yanked as hard as he could. It suddenly released with a slurping sound, sending him toppling backwards, nearly into the water.

When he regained his balance, he growled at the boy, “Why can’t you people just stay where you’re supposed to? Now, I’m going to have to walk all the way back to the barn to get the shovel to bury you—oh, and kill your freckled friend.”

He heard something rustle in the trees in front of him and looked up. He caught a glimpse of the freckled boy backing into the woods. The boy turned and ran.

“You aren’t going to make me chase you, are you, Freckles?”

***

The boy couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him, but he ran as fast as he could, feeling tree branches whipping at his face. He tripped on a fallen log, lunged forward, and nearly hit a tree head-on, but he caught his balance with his hands on the large tree trunk. He swung around behind it, leaning his back into it. He put his hand to his mouth to quiet his panting and felt the stickiness of sap from the tree trunk. He tried to wipe it off his face with his other hand, but that one was full of sap, too. He breathed slowly through his nose and listened for his pursuer. He didn’t hear anything. He was shaking uncontrollably and couldn’t stop himself. He clenched his jaw so his teeth wouldn’t chatter. Maybe he had lost the murderer. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was all a nightmare. Maybe he didn’t just witness an ax splitting his friend’s head wide open. He looked up into the black arms of the tree branches but couldn’t see anything but haunted shadows. He glanced around in every direction, not being able to see more than a few feet in front of him. Where should he go? He didn’t know where he was or how long he would have to run to find safety. The nearest person could be miles and miles away. He didn’t see any place to hide. He would have to keep running. Surely the man wouldn’t follow him all night. He just needed to stay in front of him. He held his breath and listened. He heard nothing. Which way? His breathing had begun to return to normal when suddenly a twig snapped loudly behind him. He gasped.

“You can’t hide forever, Freckles,” came a sing-song voice. “Come out and let’s talk about this.”

Run! He bolted in the direction opposite the voice, straight into the dense fog, running as fast as his feet would carry him. Vines and barbs grabbed at his legs and branches scratched his arms like the claws of an unknown creature trying to rip off small bits of his skin. He ignored them. Run faster!

He instantly stopped dead in his tracks as he felt an immense pain on his forehead, but he knew it couldn’t possibly be the ax of his pursuer. The murderer was way behind him. He reached up to his face and felt something metal—something with a wooden handle. What is this? The thick fog had severely limited his visibility. The sticky, warm wetness dripping into his eyes completely blinded him. He felt his face covered in warmth. Is this blood? He moved his hands over the object stuck in his forehead. A rake? Where did a rake come from? And how did it hit him squarely in the forehead? Confused, frightened, and in pain, he dropped to his knees, and an agonizing scream involuntarily escaped his lips as the long, wooden handle of the rake reached the ground before his knees did. The tines jerked upward, ripping off the top half of his scalp. The last thing he felt was the ax on the back of his head.

***********************************************

“The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” by Lori Crane

Available June 2013 at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers.

Wednesday Writer’s Corner – May 22, 2013

Posted on May 22, 2013 by Lori Crane

Wednesday Writer’s Corner has been cancelled for this week. I apologize for any inconvenience. 😛

It’s actually my editor’s fault, not that she edits my blogs, but my new book was supposed to go to her on June 10, and she had a sudden cancellation, so it’s going to her on May 30. You wouldn’t think eleven days would make that big a difference, but HOLY COW!

I’m also recording the voice-over for the video trailer tonight and taking everyone involved out for Mexican to celebrate.

Oh…here’s the cover, designed by my fabulous designer, who also happens to be my trophy husband. I ♥ it! I added the blurb in case you’d like to see what it’s about. So excited! Okay, enough playing around…BACK TO WORK! Wish me luck.

In 1901, the Virginia Bridge & Iron Company began re-building a fifty-year-old Mississippi bridge. In the middle of the project, they began discovering bodies buried on the banks of the river.

Those unfortunate enough to take him up on his hospitality were often never seen again.

“The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” coming June 2013 to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers.

Saturday Snippet – May 18, 2013

Posted on May 18, 2013 by Lori Crane

Saturday Snippet – May 18, 2013

Writing an intense action scene with cowboys, a drunk man, and no offensive language was a challenge, but here it is. This is part of a scene from my book, “An Orphan’s Heart.”

Set up – Alabama 1875. Ellen has hitched a ride across the state with two moonshine-hauling wagons. The four men have been gentlemen for the previous five days, but tonight is a different story. Apparently Floyd has been sampling the product.

Cast of characters:

Ellen Rodgers – twenty-five-year-old girl who hitched a ride

Floyd – old wagon driver

Earl – cook

Buck – sharpshooter

Luke – Buck’s teenage son who drives the second wagon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you whishpering ovah there? Are you trying to keep that pretty little girl all to yourshelf?” Floyd has risen to his feet, with more than a little difficulty, and is staggering toward us. He stops for a moment in the middle of the campfire clearing, and guzzles from the jug, throwing his head all the way back. I think he may fall backward, and I wonder if he will break open his skull if that happens.

Earl doesn’t move from his spot next to me. He sits in a relaxed pose, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, with a half-whittled piece of wood in one hand and a knife in the other.

“That’s enough, Floyd! Go sleep it off.” His stern voice doesn’t match his calm body language, but when I see his eyes squinting in Floyd’s direction and his jaw throb with anger, I think Floyd should do as he is told.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Earl. I wanna talk to the pretty girl, too.”

I don’t move. I don’t even think I’m breathing. I have never seen a person in this condition before, and I’m not sure if he’s dangerous or if he’s going to fall down at any moment.

Earl slowly rises to his feet, moves in front of me, and lowers his voice. “You’re not going to do any such thing. The lady doesn’t need to speak with you when you’re drunk.”

Floyd wildly takes a swing at Earl and hits him right in the jaw, causing Earl to hit the ground with a thud. He is out cold. Luke throws his guitar down on the dirt, runs around the outside of the circle, and grabs for my hand, but Floyd beats him to it. Before I realize what is happening, Floyd spins me around and I find myself facing Luke, pinned in Floyd’s arms.

“That’sh better, pretty lady,” Floyd slobbers. The rancid odor of whiskey and rotting teeth invades my nostrils.

Luke freezes and pushes his hands toward the ground in an attempt to calm Floyd down. “Look, Floyd, you don’t want to do this.”

“How do you know what I wanna do?” He spits down my neck as he speaks, wobbling back and forth. The motion and the smell are making me sick to my stomach.

Luke looks past me, over my shoulder. He nods, then there is a sudden noise behind me. When Floyd turns toward the noise, Luke grabs my hand and says, “Come on!”

“Hey!” Floyd hollers at us as we pull away.

“That’s enough, Floyd!” Buck yells, appearing from the woods behind us.

Floyd turns toward Buck, and moves faster than his inebriated body should be able to. Luke yanks me toward the wagon and shoves me in. Buck grabs Floyd by his outstretched arm, spins him around, and puts the knife up to Floyd’s throat. Floyd curses, demanding Buck to let him go. I assume Buck refused, for they’re soon having an all-out brawl. I hear the jug hit the ground, but I don’t know if Floyd threw it or dropped it. I also hear fists making contact with flesh. I can’t imagine Floyd is in any shape to fight off a man like Buck.

I jump when I hear a gunshot. Everything is abruptly silent. The bullfrogs stop croaking, and it seems as if time is standing still. I look wide-eyed at Luke, wondering if Floyd has been shot.

“It’s all right,” he says, shaking his head in answer to my unspoken question.

“Are you sure?” I whisper.