K.E. Skedgell

S o I have myself a few beta readers now and they're actually reading my story! Uh, yeah, I mean that's what I want, no doubt about it, but see, I'm used to handing off the first chapter or two for friends to read to get their opinion (and granted this was back when my writing sucked insert expletive ) and the usual caveat was no reply back. Ever. Even though my writing is somewhat decent nowadays, I expected that to happen again after finding me a few betas. Well, the first one that I hitched up with hasn't responded to me in two weeks, and I gave them the first six chapters three weeks ago. Gave them some time, thinking, okay, people have lives and they probably can't get to it right away. No biggie. Got an email saying they were still working on their notes and would send them to me in a few days. Sweet. So I waited, and waited, and still no email. That figures, I thought. Well, perhaps my story really does suck insert expletive . I tell peeps, if it isn...

F or the past couple of months I've made it a point to go for a walk every evening, or most evenings after supper to burn off the calories I had ingested. I was growing tired of my midsection expanding further and further and needed to do something to put an end to that nonsense, so I started taking long walks. So far I've lost ten pounds since winter, not a lot, but the weight didn't come on suddenly either. It was a gradual gain and will be a gradual loss. This post isn't about my weight loss, it's about what I discovered a month or more ago on my walks that has reminded me of my failure in life, my failure to have a good job or career, to have money in the bank or even for recreation, let alone for retirement and what have you. It stands on the corner of Washington and Middle streets in my home town, in all of its Victorian, tan brick, and purple shingled glory. Yup, a house. But not just any house, it's the house that since I was a young girl had dreame...

A nd the search begins for beta readers. I have a few willing readers already, that's if they can make it through all 180k words. Yeah, I failed to cut it to my goal of 150k words, but doing so would have taken out large chunks of the story that I would have had to rewrite and possibly change the story to where I didn't want it to be. Maybe I'm just too attached to the thing and maybe a beta or two may find something that can be cut or reduced (hopefully not expanded on, it's a doorstop as it is). My next task at hand is to search for another couple more betas, see if any of them will be a good fit for me and my work, and begin working on book two and a query letter. I may hold off on the query letter for a while yet until I get some more feedback from my betas in case any major restructuring will have to happen, which I doubt but you never know. Ideally I would like at least one beta that knows their stuff about 15th century Romania and Hungary and can help me mak...

I have a fascination with cemeteries because of the history of the dead laid to rest in them and their peaceful atmosphere. A friend and I went to this little hidden gem of a cemetery yesterday in eastern Barry County Michigan, only a few miles south of where we live, located in Maple Grove TWP on a dirt back road. It's easy to miss it if you don't know where to look for the drive, partially hidden behind wild shrubbery and grasses, looking every bit like a private drive. The drive is a two-track that goes up a steep hill, full of ruts from the heavy rain we've had lately here washing out parts of the drive, and on either side wild growth trimmed just enough to not scratch up your car too badly. However, not all the tree and shrub branches are cut back far enough to avoid scratches, so taking a car you wouldn't want scratched would be a good idea, or leave the car parked at the bottom of the hill off to the side of the road and walk. Entry of the cemetery. No ...