Escape It All

Well, last night we were hit with a winter storm.  Highways were closed after a spate of vehicles hitting the ditch.  This morning I woke to a world whose blanket of snow just settled a few inches deeper.  Winter isn't ready to give up its stranglehold on the prairies just yet.  So, I was kind of anxious to leave the snow world behind to go visiting.  I'm on tour today with Fatal Intent.  So if you're in the mood to escape the weather, or anything else in your life - or maybe you just want to talk books, come on over to Lisa Haselton's blog where I'm spending the day.  Visit, hang out and get entered to win a prize or two. 

In the meantime let's head somewhere warm and without snow, deep in the pages of Fatal Intent. 
 

Somewhere in the Borneo jungle:

Aidan moved vines back, exposing his face.  They only had to look in his direction.

He was so close he could have reached out and touched her.  She was delicate, out of place here in the midst of this wilderness.  Her skin, even beneath the sweat and exertion-stained flush, was fair.  She wasn't built to be here, she was too slight to survive, too weak, too...

She glanced up.  A frown immediately seared her face.

"Who the hell are you?" she snarled.

He bit back a smile.  She should have screamed.  She hadn't.  All tiny limbs and fragile beauty, and yet she attacked first.

He let his gaze rove over the group, refusing to be corralled by her attack.  

One of the men looked panicked, the others seriously stressed.  He shifted his spear to his other hand and waited, taking the warrior advantage of time and observation.  The silent often learned much about the enemy.

"Put that down."  She gestured to his spear.

His fingers loosened for a millisecond before gripping the spear tighter.  Was she out of her mind?  Green, innocent, and totally forest-illiterate, but she was feisty.

Feisty?  She was seething, hot, absolutely pissed--about what, he wasn't sure.  Her anger didn't make much sense.  Nothing about this afternoon made much sense.

Hope you enjoyed that little diversion from the real world.

Now I'm off to dig a path in a snowbank or two.   

And you - any snowbanks standing in your way?

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com

Passport to Edmonton

Edmonton skyline.

A few months ago I was dusting off the passport but life has a strange way of derailing plans.  So while the passport simmers it was a trip over the border - provincial that is.  Edmonton, Alberta is not exactly international travel but it's a beautiful city to visit despite unseasonably cold weather, that I'll say I griped about - a lot.  

My friend claims no responsibility?

The fire exit that started it all.

If you want to really see a place sight see a little outside the norm.  So we did.  First off there was the fire exit - always know your way outside the hotel in case of emergency.  However, note to self, if there's a sensor box on the top of the door and no sign - don't open the door unless there's a fire.  Unfortunately, I opened the door.  So with a siren wailing, I had to admit my error to the hotel concierge.

A bus window view of things.

With a bad start behind us it was off to the bus stop.  I rarely travel by bus but my friend insisted that it was the way to go.  Unfortunately on Saturday the buses only run every half hour.  We found that out as our toes began to curl trying to preserve what heat there was left in our feet.

The bus is a whole other world and you're only getting a brief glimpse.  Who is the young man that keeps hiding behind the hood of his hoodie?  Who is the older woman who is chatting up the young man with the heavy accent?  Are they lovers or...   Then there's the girl with the sad eyes and the bleached blonde hair with the heavy swathe of blue cutting across one side - what's her story?  Overhead are the signs warning against bad behavior on the buses.  I glance warily around the bus for the culprit that may have instigated such persistent warnings - for the signs are everywhere.  But the ride turned out uneventful.  Instead we soon discovered that like foreign travel, even when English is the first language of everyone involved, there can be communication break down.  This time it meant a six block walk in the cold.

Musicians, Edmonton Farmers Market

Edmonton's Farmers Market

It was then that we discovered a real find - a farmers market.  Again, not something I'd usually tour while in Edmonton.  I'm glad we did.  It was fantastic.   A group of musicians greeted us at the entry with a variety of warm and vibrant down-home music.  They set the tone for the visit.  We nibbled our way through the displays that ranged from the usual vegetables and meats to homemade cotton candy and designer hats, while we listened to lively music and chatted with local merchants. 

Edmonton was cold!!

By the time we reached the West Edmonton Mall it was near the end of the day and the beginning of sore feet.  As a result, I walked out of a store I have mentioned more times then my hubbie wants to remember with no bags in hand.  How could I go there and buy nothing after all that hype, he'll ask later - I'm sure of it.  But a cold beer and a warm Irish Pub just seemed like a nicer ending to a busy day than one more shopping bag.  And it was only one more bus ride away!

There's a world out there, outside the norm.  And this weekend I found it.  As a seatmate said on the return flight, "it was a change from what we were used to".  By this she referred to emigrating from the UK and coming to Canada.  Talk about stepping out of your comfort zone!  A trip to the West Edmonton Mall hardly seems worth mentioning.  But in the end it all makes for a good story - big or small a story is just a step outside the norm.


Ryshia
www.ryshiakennie.com

Get Mad

The other day I blogged about rejection in Rejection Bites.  My thoughts there did work for that one rejection but since then things have changed.  That post was before I knew rejection was going to strike again a few days later.   But when you have a story making the rounds rejection is a reality.  Not everyone is going to love your story or even like it for that matter.  You can only hope that one editor and one publishing house will.  But until that occurs, there's rejection to look forward to and it's phrased in any number of ways.

There are some good things about all this.  If nothing else, the manuscript made it to the publishing heart of NY if only for a brief slide across an editorial screen or two.  But now isn't the time for failed attempts at humour, now is the time to get angry because that's what it's going to take to get to the next level.

Not temper tantrum angry - we're not in a schoolyard anymore.  The rejections are real, not personal and the editor had valid reasons.  Hold back those catty little thoughts - oh what the heck do it, they make you feel better.  Then get mad - productive mad.  This is your story and your life and you're not going to let rejections sideline it - not even for a day, not this time.  Remember, you're not the only one that believes in this story or in you.  If you're lucky there's an agent buffering the first blow before sending it on to you.  And if you're not, gather the others who believe in you close family, friends, acquaintances - heck, befriend the postal carrier if she happens to be an avid reader. 

Okay, you're mad now what?  Well you do what any self-respecting writer would do.  It's a battle and while your story continues to rush the front lines, you open up your weapon of choice - power it on, whether it's a MacBook or a PC, and begin pounding those keys.  And you have my permission to hit them just a tad harder and faster than usual as you pound out that next story. 
There - that will show them.

And whatever you do, if you write to music change it and if you don't have music - start.   But this is no time for the gently sophisticated muse of the classics.  Chopin is booted to the curb and AC/DC or its like is the way of it and the volume is cranked.  And remember - the only way to ensure that you lose a battle is to take up arms and go home.  So, as the post at Terribleminds blog said, I must warn you quite colourfully - it's time to "staple your rejections to your chest and wade into battle with them as your armor.   Click here to head on over to read the rest.

Rejection - is that what makes success so sweet?

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com