Jennifer, thanks so much for your invitation. Promoting a book, especially my first book is so much more difficult and time-consuming than I thought it would be. Generous authors like you have given me a leg up into the blog-o-sphere, and I can’t tell you how much it’s appreciated.
As I said, “If Wishes Were Horses” is my first published book. Not the first I’ve attempted by a long shot, but the first I’ve taken from spark to completion. So, in thinking about the advice I’d give to anyone attempting this journey, it would be to think long and hard before you stick your toe in the water. Be certain that the story you want to tell means something to you personally and has some value to the world at large. It doesn’t have to be great literature or send a message with a trumpet fanfare. It simply has to bring something to light.
The spark of the idea for “If Wishes Were Horses” and the cast of characters in it came to me fully formed. The story, though fiction, contains the gritty details of some of the people who’ve influenced my life and inspired me to take action when it would have been easier to keep difficult and painful things locked away. Those are the people who truly deserve to be heard. They are all heroes as far as I’m concerned.
But the spark isn’t enough to tell the tale. I read everything I could get my hands on to help me but found the soundest advice on construction and the three-act format came from K.M. Weiland and her suite of books as well as the blog she publishes. I’d recommend her work to anyone just starting out. Her work helped this amateur condense and refine the elements of the book into a cohesive manuscript. I’d also say that there isn’t a single author out there who hasn’t benefited from the help of fellow writers who are willing to be honest with you. Don’t settle for being patted on the head. You must be brave enough to be vulnerable and ask for help from someone more experienced than you are.
In closing, again to new writers, be fearless, be vulnerable, and be dogged. Keep writing and don’t give up, no matter what.
Thanks,
Jayne York
If Wishes Were Horses
By Jayne York
Contemporary Women’s Fiction
Published by The Wild Rose Press
PURCHASE LINK:
https://www.amazon.com/Wishes-Were-Horses-Jayne-York-ebook/dp/B07TVW54GQ
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
I've been an avid reader and sometime writer all of my life. I've never been able to resist the draw of a good story, and that has been true in my professional life as well. I was raised as the third of three children in the Colorado high country. Early on I discovered the joy of creating handcrafted jewelry, which led to a forty-five-year career as a professional jeweler. Every customer, every piece has its own story. I've collected them like pearls in a strand, and I often use them as a jumping-off point for the tales I tell. If you're looking for me, you'll find me on the shores of a northern lake, hammering away on my latest story of love and life in the modern world. ~*~ Find Jayne online at:http://www.JayneYork.com
I've been an avid reader and sometime writer all of my life. I've never been able to resist the draw of a good story, and that has been true in my professional life as well. I was raised as the third of three children in the Colorado high country. Early on I discovered the joy of creating handcrafted jewelry, which led to a forty-five-year career as a professional jeweler. Every customer, every piece has its own story. I've collected them like pearls in a strand, and I often use them as a jumping-off point for the tales I tell. If you're looking for me, you'll find me on the shores of a northern lake, hammering away on my latest story of love and life in the modern world. ~*~ Find Jayne online at:http://www.JayneYork.com
BLURB:
Emily Converse never expected to return to Tamarack, Colorado. But she's determined to rescue her drug-addicted brother and start a new life. Standing in her way, she finds her stepfather, a powerful US senator, looming over her future like the ever-present monster he'd been during their childhood. Meeting wounded retired Navy SEAL, Michael McCandlis, is a steamy surprise in her homecoming, though he's adrift in civilian life. Together can they find a way to transform from victims to survivors?
Emily Converse never expected to return to Tamarack, Colorado. But she's determined to rescue her drug-addicted brother and start a new life. Standing in her way, she finds her stepfather, a powerful US senator, looming over her future like the ever-present monster he'd been during their childhood. Meeting wounded retired Navy SEAL, Michael McCandlis, is a steamy surprise in her homecoming, though he's adrift in civilian life. Together can they find a way to transform from victims to survivors?
EXCERPT:
Once upon a time, she'd run away from Tamarack like her heels were on fire, and now here she was volunteering to step back into the furnace. What was the definition of insanity? Doing the same things over and over, expecting a different outcome. Like if she managed to change, be stronger, be smarter, things would turn out better—different. It wouldn't be that simple. She downshifted the Jeep to slow for the last of the S-shaped turns on the narrow ribbon of asphalt. The road led her past the pretentious granite columns that marked her stepfather's compound. She wasn't consciously holding her breath, but a trickle of fear dribbled down her spine just the same. Her molars ground together in determination. The past wouldn't decide her present, not ever again. In spite of herself, images of her last day on his estate flashed through her mind like the herky-jerky frames of a child's flip deck animation. Fear sharpened every visual, clarified every word, enhanced every touch. She'd run down the steps, racing for her car. He'd charged after her, smelling of alcohol and fury when he tried to stop her headlong rush toward an unknown future. They'd screamed out their mutual hatred, all the bitter dregs of their time together. She smirked when she remembered getting in the lucky shove that had landed him in a heap on the ground. It had been her first glimpse that Senator Ray Domenico was not the invincible, all-powerful monster she'd known him to be.
Once upon a time, she'd run away from Tamarack like her heels were on fire, and now here she was volunteering to step back into the furnace. What was the definition of insanity? Doing the same things over and over, expecting a different outcome. Like if she managed to change, be stronger, be smarter, things would turn out better—different. It wouldn't be that simple. She downshifted the Jeep to slow for the last of the S-shaped turns on the narrow ribbon of asphalt. The road led her past the pretentious granite columns that marked her stepfather's compound. She wasn't consciously holding her breath, but a trickle of fear dribbled down her spine just the same. Her molars ground together in determination. The past wouldn't decide her present, not ever again. In spite of herself, images of her last day on his estate flashed through her mind like the herky-jerky frames of a child's flip deck animation. Fear sharpened every visual, clarified every word, enhanced every touch. She'd run down the steps, racing for her car. He'd charged after her, smelling of alcohol and fury when he tried to stop her headlong rush toward an unknown future. They'd screamed out their mutual hatred, all the bitter dregs of their time together. She smirked when she remembered getting in the lucky shove that had landed him in a heap on the ground. It had been her first glimpse that Senator Ray Domenico was not the invincible, all-powerful monster she'd known him to be.
Website: JayneYork.com
Blog: JayneYork.com/What’sOnMyMind/
Twitter: @JayneYorkAuthor
Facebook: JayneYorkAuthor
