Monday, May 16, 2016

Why JK Rowling's letters are important.

Ahoy lovely readers!

Kicking up my writing blog posts again. I actually started this post a month ago, but y'all know how I am with procrastinating.

Anyway, this topic was fairly popular a while back, but I'd still like to express my gratitude for J.K. Rowling posting some of her rejection letters on social media.

If you're not familiar with Rowling releasing some of her rejection letters, you can Google the story. I'll give you the low-down though.

This woman's the reason my generation's literate. 

The tl;dr: is that someone asked Rowling to release some of her rejection letters on Twitter. The Queen of the Pen said her Harry Potter ones were in an attic, but she was happy to release some of the rejections Robert Galbraith (her alias for her adult mystery series) received.

Rowling's never been shy to admit she's received her fair share of rejection letters, but seeing some of them in the flesh (...paper? Ah, you know what I mean) made her a much more tangible comrade to her fellow writers.

Especially those of us who aren't the authors of New York Times Bestsellers (...yet.)

So, here are some of my points about Rowling's letters, and how a struggling author viewed them. 

It was brave as fuck: 

It's not easy for anyone to admit failure, and I'm sure it's even harder for someone as successful as Rowling to show her failures to her 7.3 million followers on Twitter. 

What has she got to lose, you ask? Absolutely nothing. 

We all know Rowling's no stranger to charity and helping those who need a boost, but this was something personal. You can sit atop your mountain of success, but your failures will still haunt you just as much as they haunt someone not as successful. 

This was something completely unnecessary. Aside from the pride of struggling authors, no one was hurt. This wasn't a charity that desperately needed funds to do good in the world. It was a virtual hug that someone as successful as Rowling didn't need to give. 

And the fact she kind of got to give the middle finger to those idiots who rejected her is cool, too. 

Saving mine just in case I get the pleasure of doing the same >D 

It connected writers-- no matter the fame: 

J. K. Rowling is famous y'all. Like, in ways most of us could only ever imagine. You can't go anywhere on this earth, save a very remote island and not hear about Harry Potter or his amazing creator. Hell, most of the people my age didn't even like reading before picking up a good ol' copy of the Sorcerer's Stone ('Murica). 

And she's even more than a famous person to writers. I, and I'm sure many, started writing after reading about the world of wizards and Muggles. She's the equivalent of the hashtag #goalsaf for authors, especially those of us who write YA. 

We all know she exists, but she's in the circle of super-famous authors, the ultimate cool kids table. As a struggling writer, the geeky kid who smells fully, there's no way I'd ever approach that table. How could I possibly have anything in common with them? 

Yeah, I know I can't sit with you! Enjoy your lunch, Rowling, Riordan, and Riggs

But we do have something in common. Something powerful. We love creating stories and sharing them with the world. We take a bit of our soul and craft it into many stories that reflect our hopes, dreams, and personal experiences. That takes a lot more guts than people give writers credit for. 

And Rowling releasing her rejection letters was a little fist bump to us lowly writers still waiting to hit major book store shelves or, hell, to get to 500 followers on Twitter. We're all in this together, and even the popular kids had to start off somewhere. 

Which brings me to my final point of gratitude.

It's humbling: 

This is the most glaringly obvious one, and it was the point that Rowling was trying to make. Even the big leagues started off as struggling actors. We all know Rowling's story of literally going from rags to riches, but there are some less spectacular stories of other famous authors.

Take ol' Uncle Rick for example. He was a middle school teacher who had a few unknown books on the shelf before hitting it big with his Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. Now, despite those horrid films, you can't go into a school without seeing his books on the AR list or in the hands of excited kids. 

And most of these authors didn't hit it big until they were much older than myself and many other writers. I can't speak for them, but I know I'm just beginning this scary career as an author. It's one of those where you hone your craft while jumping out there. That's beautiful, and it takes a lot of courage to keep it up after being rejected by numerous publishers, agents, that one asshole English professor, what have you. 

Just like any creative field, you gotta start from the bottom, and it's gonna be rough. Seeing things like very famous authors' rejection letters is a reminder of the struggles that even they faced. 

Our time is yet to come, new authors. You keep that chin up and keep writing. The world needs your story! 

Monday, May 9, 2016

Fiction Feature New Release!

Ahoy wonderful readers!

I hope y'all had a wonderful mother's day yesterday. Better have treated ya mamas nice, ya heard? ;)

Time to start this week off with another fiction feature! I have another romance novel for all of you looking for a sweet read.

Please welcome Wendy May Andrews and her novel, The Debutante Bride !

Miss Elizabeth Dunseith, Beth to her friends, grew up in genteel poverty, happy despite her abusive father and weak mother. When her father sells her to the highest bidder in order to pay off his gambling debts, she fears what her future will hold but is relieved to get away from home with her new, handsome husband.

Lord Justin Fulton, Earl of Westfield, is confused by the contradictory behavior of his purchased bride. One moment she is haughty and cool, the next she is warm and endearing. When his sister refuses to help establish his new bride in Society, Justin turns to a friend’s wife to show Beth the best way to navigate the politics of the ton.

Their growing attraction just seems to confuse matters even further. Will these two be able to see past their differences to make it to happily ever after?

Seems like your cup of tea? Keep reading for another taste! 


As she came to wakefulness, Beth held herself very still, momentarily surprised to find herself in a strange bed, but then it all rushed back into her consciousness. She was a married lady. A countess at that. And she had only met her husband thirty-six hours before.

The thrill of freedom flowed through her as she reminded herself once more that she would never again have to return to the house she grew up in unless she so chose. Of course, she would want to see her mother again, but she allowed herself to bask in the contentment she was experiencing. She wiggled her toes and stretched her arms, reveling in the new sensation.

The unknown factor of her new husband was obviously of concern, but so far he had been remarkably even tempered. She would even go so far as to describe him as kind, at least what she had seen of him in their short acquaintance. Beth could not decide how she felt about how handsome he was. He was deliciously attractive, but she was unsure if that could be trusted. No doubt other women would find it to be a point in his favor.


You can buy The Debutante Bride at these links below:


Barnes & Noble:


And here's a little bit about our author:

Wendy May Andrews has been in love with the written word since she learned to read at the age of five. She has been writing for almost as long but hasn’t been sharing those stories with anyone but her mother until recently. This is Wendy’s third book with Clean Reads.

Wendy can be found with her nose in a book in a cozy corner of downtown Toronto. She is happily married to her own real-life hero, who is also her best friend and favorite travel companion.

Being a firm believer that every life experience contributes to the writing process, Wendy is off planning her next trip.

She loves to hear from her readers and can be found at her website, on twitter or Facebook.

You can reach out to Wendy at the links below:




Instagram: @wendymayandrews

And that's your Fiction Feature for today! Stay tuned for some exciting Lucid news, and until next time keep readin' and dreamin'


Friday, May 6, 2016

Fiction Feature on a Friday?

Ahoy lovely readers!

Hope you all have a festive and save Cinco de Mayo! It's time to shake off the margarita salt and get back to the grind.

But the weekend's coming up fast, and I've got a wonderful new read for you all to check out.

This feature's all about Adult Suspense, so if you're looking for a book that'll keep you on the edge of your seat, L. K. Kuhl's Chasm

Taylor Vine thinks she can fight off the demons of her past when she moves back home to Estill Springs, Tennessee, but it doesn’t take long to see that things aren’t quite that easy. The bumps she hears in the night soon escalate, keeping her up at nights, and it isn’t long before her most precious possessions, her children, get abducted. She finds herself in a race against time to try to find them before it’s too late. One wrong move and the outcome could be disastrous. 

But of course I'm gonna give y'all a little excerpt as well ;) 


Her heart picked up its pace, and she reached for the phone. She hesitated, unsure whether to even answer it. But she plucked it from its receiver. “Hello?” Her voice slid out rickety and unsure.

The male voice on the other end was dark and deeply plagued with distress. It broke, and she struggled to make out what he was saying.

What she heard next was unimaginable; it didn’t sound human. The grief penetrated through the voice—through the phone—flanking it with wretched wails and sobs. “I’ve killed the children. Heaven…help me…I’ve killed the children.” The phone went silent.

Taylor’s knees buckled. “What?” The hyper pitch in her voice strained out. “Goodness gracious, who is this? What happened? Whose children?” Her knees about took her down again. She caught the edge of the counter, catching herself before she fell. “Answer me, for crying out loud! Don’t hang up on me!”

She listened desperately, plastering the phone to her ear. But the phone was silent. “Hello, hello? Answer me!” Frantically clicking the telephone cradle button, she tried to bring him back, but there was only a dial tone.

She pounded the phone on the counter so forcefully that the plastic mouthpiece broke into a million tiny pieces. She let it fall, left it dangling by its cord. Swiftly making her way to the hall closet, she rummaged through the plastic totes for a flashlight. “There has to be one in here somewhere,” she mumbled to herself. Extension cords and old Christmas lights spilled over onto the floor.

Finally finding a flashlight, she clicked it on. It was dim, but it would do. She ran back to the hall, to the children’s rooms, feeling no pain in her swollen ankle.

Flinging Cody’s door wide, she flashed the light toward the wall where his bed sat. In slow motion, the lonely, empty, disheveled bed yanked a horrifying scream from her gut, reverberating through the house. The earth quit spinning, and she was lost to oblivion. “NO! Not my children! Please, God…not my children.” She needed life support, couldn’t breathe; the air was being sucked from her body in rapid swells. She dropped to the floor, her world going black—closing in—smothering.

Not knowing how long she’d been out, Taylor struggled to her feet, she was sure it wasn’t long; it was still black outside, flashes of lightning still cracking in through the window. She raced to check on Nora. Her room was the same: deserted, hollow, puncturing a bleeding, oozing hole in Taylor’s chest the size of a large, bottomless chasm.

“For crying out loud, no…please, no.” The tears coursed down her face. She staggered numbly to Nora’s empty bed, collapsing on it, her hand reaching, groping—trying to find the warmth of her baby girl. But the only thing the tangled blankets and sheets offered her was a bleak and disgusting coldness. It shocked her through her hand. How long had they been gone? Time couldn’t wait, she needed to find them.


You can buy Chasm on Amazon as an e-book today!

And let's learn a little about our author, shall we?

L.K. Kuhl lives in Nebraska with her husband of twenty-nine years, young son, Nathan, and Greg, their Black Lab dog. She has two older daughters, Morgan and Brittani and son-in-law, Trevor. L.K. has been writing for over twenty years. She first began writing children’s books and poetry, moved on to writing music, and is now writing Young Adult and Adult novels. Her first book, Everlasting, a Young Adult Paranormal Romance, was published in February, 2016. She loves spending time with her family, vacationing, writing, reading, and taking long walks. It’s the characters who write their own stories in her novels, and she is just their messenger, sharing it with the world.

Here's a little about what sparked the story Chasm

I got the idea to write Chasm because my husband used to be an engineer for the railroad. Although my husband never worked with this gentleman directly, one of the engineers on the railroad hit and killed his wife and children with the train he was driving. It was no fault of the engineer. The wife did it deliberately to get back at her husband, the engineer. The engineer said the last thing he saw was his children looking up at him from the windows of the car.

Although this is a work of fiction, and this is just a story between two, make believe people, I felt compelled to tell his story about how utterly and completely devastating this would be. The engineer was never able to return to work after this.

You can reach out to L. K. at the links below!

Author Links:


Author Facebook Page:






Amazon Author Page:

That should keep you busy this weekend! Get out and enjoy this lovely weather, too! And take your mama out someplace nice on Sunday!

Until next time, keep readin' and dreamin'!