Dedications

So over the past few years I've written a few dedications and posted them in the front of my books. Some I've liked, some I haven't, but in reality there are just too many people to list, too many people who have encouraged me in one way or another that to list any means I'm possibly leaving out someone who is just as important. I mean, realistically, nearly everyone in my life presently has been an inspiration.

In retrospect, I've also read a few dedications in other books which are either amazingly poetic or astoundingly simple. There's rambling and there's succinctness, but done well. Unfortunately, I'm not poetic. Nor can I spew words which invoke the kind of emotion I truly feel, emotions these people I want to thank will understand and appreciate. This leaves me in quite the quandary.

So,while having a few moments to think, I wrote a more deserving dedication which I will place at the front of A ROMANCE NOVEL, my newest book which should hit the market soon enough. (Too soon to my liking) Anyway, here is it:

Dedication: Thirty years of vividly imagining worlds, of toiling at a keyboard, and of learning that criticism only makes my writing better has pushed me toward accomplishing a lifetime goal. It’s a goal I could not have accomplished on my own, though at times it seemed that way. Yet, for every twisted phrase or tweaked paragraph, for every painful rewrite or gleeful summation, and for every frustrated moment leading toward exhaustive exultation, I have had someone urging me to become more than I was before. In the beginning, I only had thoughts of what could be; the beginnings of an idea. Now, I have fully written and published stories I never would've conceived myself writing. However, this is not a testament to myself or my perseverance, but rather to those behind me pushing me forward, telling me they have read my words and want to read more, who have encouraged me to continue on instead of finding a shelf on which to park my expressive nature. This dedication is for them; for those who never lost hope even when I discouraged. To you I say; thank you. I could not have done this without every single one of you and, now more than ever, I need you to lift my chin and tell me to forge on; that this is worth it. And it’s for you that I will.

Writing Mistakes

As a habit, when I start writing from where I left off, I usually read the last few chapters so I can regain the story within my thoughts. Most of the time when I do this I find a few mistakes in my writing and make corrections. The thing is that I only read a few paragraphs, but I find mistakes in just those few words. I correct them, but it makes me think of how many other errors are within the pages I haven't yet reviewed. Because of this, editing becomes all the more important in the later stages. And like I always say, getting words onto paper should be the first priority, everything else comes later. Knowing this, living this, means I need to analyze my most common mistakes and search for them when the time for editing comes. So here are the things I get wrong, search for, and inevitably change:

Towards – Toward

Backwards – Backward

Afterwards – Afterward

Forwards – Forward

He said jokingly – he joked.

Than and then – Work on not confusing them.

To, too, and two – Don’t confuse

Don’t overuse the word “that” – eliminate as many as you can….

Contractions:

Is not – isn’t

Are not – aren’t

They are – they’re

He is/he has – he’s

She is/she has - she’s

There is – there’s

I am – I’m

I have – I’ve

They have – They’ve

And …..

Point of view is the voice of the person telling the story. In a novel length work, it is preferable to have one point of view per chapter, if not, one per scene is acceptable.

No Table of Contents

No underline - Bold chapter titles, but no underline.

No ‘’ – use italics, same with titles of movie or reference to other items.

Prologue and Epilogue, Overview is for the back cover…

Delete content that is irrelevant or doesn’t drive the story forward.

Delete points of view unless absolutely necessary.

Don’t interrupt flow by adding ‘he said’ in the middle of a point or conversation.

Thesaurus – Use it more…

Then and Now

Now for a little story which began 30 years ago which is when I started writing my first book. Back then, writing was not my passion, I just thought I had a story to tell and a reason to tell it. For 20 years I toiled with that story off and on as my expectations changed along with my life. During that time, however, the one simple book became the beginning of a series I believed I could stretch into three novels. As far as that goes, I'd finished the first two and was about half way through the third with no end in sight. Yes, this means it took me 20 years to write 2 1/2 books. Shameful, but back then writing was still not a passion. Nor was publishing, though it was on my bucket list.

Then a strange thing happened, I went to my 20th High School Reunion and bump into a similar heart. For the entire night we talked of writing. From that point on I had gained a passion for writing. Before I knew it I'd finished the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th book of the series. It was complete, it was epic, and I was proud. Best of all, I was inspired and I owe it all to her because she lit the fire under my ass and gave my purpose.

Its been just over 8 years since that reunion and in that time I've written 14+ books (17 total) and am currently writing two at this time. But beyond that, I have published 6 books and have a seventh coming out shortly. These books, however, aren't even the ones she tortured me to complete; my original series which I reformatted into 9 books. She also introduced me to her son, Tyler, who is currently doing/redoing the graphics for my Stone Vengeance series covers, my Burden of Immortality book, and banners for my display booth at comicon events. He has been a godsend since I have very little artistic talent.

But in addition to just my writing and publishing, she also gave me purpose. Back then I survived from day to day without those awe-inspiring moments which makes life meaningful. Now I have goals. Now I have aspirations. Now I have a life with meaning. For that, I want to thank you, Kathleen (Stoner) Melhart. You are a compatriot of passion and one day we shall publish something together which will stall the world. Without her I'd be trudging through life still in search of direction.

I can't thank you enough for being the constant push I need.

My Worth

Another piece of new writing. Yea, part of a theme lately: What have we become? What destination have you taken me? Is it a trip I still want to endure? These are the questions I ask myself as you turn away. Before that, however, I saw your head nod in agreement though your body language held contempt. I felt the sweetness of your smile as you shrugged me away in dismissal. I heard the encouragement in your voice yet you didn't listen to a spoken word from my mouth. I smelt the rapture of your screams fade away quickly as another entered your thoughts. If only you could have understood my plea from love from the words I wrote, but you were on a different chapter in another book, so my voice fell on deaf ears. Therefore, I cannot cling to hope anymore nor can I understand my worth within your eyes. Where I once saw passion, I now see nothingness. I used to see so many things within your grace, but what I never saw were the tears you shed when I was gone. So what does it mean when love only exist when I stand in front of you? It means nothing right now except a silent heartache, a painful tears, and a memory which will never fade. And in the darkness I evaluate my worth and find I was only a single day away from being forgotten. It's hardly worth the effort to write this, but it's my only way of accounting for my thoughts, your actions. -- A day. One solitary day. And I'm gone. Such a disgrace.

On a lighter note, I got the newest cover for Azazel: Book 3 of my Stone Vengeance series. Looks awesome. Love it!!!

I Remember

A new piece of writing:

I remember the first time I saw you. I was intrigued by your beauty. I was captivated by your intelligence. I was slayed by your wit. I was heart-broken by your rejection. And all this within the first day.

From that point on, my passion only grew. 

You became my inspiration. You became the smile etching my face. You became the wings lifting me to heights previously unknown. You became the dream.

Then I melted within you.

You were the frog in my throat. You were tingling in my limbs. You were the sun upon my face. You were the grin of never ending joy. You were the giggle of a baby to my soul. You were the warmth within my heart. 

Then we parted. 

Yet, even half a world away, you were still my everything. You drowned my every thought. You stopped my heart with every text. You stayed me with the sound of your voice. You were the light at the end of the tunnel, the temptation to continue on.

Then began the decline.

Doubt entered, though I know it was always there. But when the door cracked open, years of insecurities piled in. I could not contain my fears. I could not temper my heart. I could not silence the memories which haunt me. I could not quell my loss of love.

Finally time torn us asunder.

I became desperate for hints of meaning. I searched for what we once had. I dreamed of the day I meant something, anything, more than just an echo of my own words. And the more I needed, the less I received.

In the end, I ripped us apart. 

I became a shadow of myself clinging to something so precious, so dear, I couldn't see the forest through the trees. I couldn't stand what I'd become as my temperament fluctuated like the weather. But I tried. I tried too hard to maintain something that could no longer be sustained until all that remained with a burning ache in the center of my chest.

Now I have nothing but a memory.

But it's been a time of discovery. First off, I shall never love like this again. Secondly, I shall never want to love like this again. Both are too painful. Both bring me to near tears. Both can never end well. Both leave me dying. Now nobody knows my troubles but God. I wonder if he cares.

You were my dream.

Probably Crazy

I'm not a romance novelist, yet I've written and will soon publish a romance novel. Does this mean I'm crazy...probably. But I have had a few good influences in my life and I have a personality trait which is now part of a dying breed: I'm a hopeless romantic. Yea, and I'm a guy. So what's that mean? It means I always see the best of every relationship I've ever been in. I cling to the dream of love. I hurt when it fails. And I shed a tear from time to time. But it doesn't make me soft. It only means that I care while I'm stapling my wounds together because I'm not one to give up. I persevere. I step back in the ring. I endure a little more punishment for the sake of another smile, another hug, another kiss with the knowledge being a romantic at times counters logic.

One of the other influences I have is a close friend of mine who writes some amazingly emotional poetry. Today I read this line from something she'd written: You feel like home to me. Somehow, that single line conveys more emotion then the entirety of my novel. And as I've stated before, I'm not a romance novelist so don't expect things like this in my book. On the other hand, I'm a realist in my writing. I tell a story. I convey thoughts, not emotions, which reflect most guys. That's why I wrote the book from a perspective I'm familiar with. A perspective I truly understand...my own.

Now this may not work for some, may not work for most, but it is what it is. It's what I wrote and one day I'll be proud of it. That day isn't today...nor tomorrow. But one day I will see it on my shelf and I'll be proud I had the courage to bare my soul.

There is one other thing I'm going to leave you with and that is that one day I hope all of you have the pleasure of experiencing the writing of my friend. It is truly amazing.

And that's it from me today.