Jan won First Place win in the 2009 Where The Magic Begins contest in the Sweet Contemporary category, for Katherine Octavia, C.I.A a inspirational romantic suspense.
Second Place win for Sky Eyes a inspirational historical.
Final judging was done by Emily Rodmell of Harlequin Love Inspired who requested a full for Katherine Octavia, C.I.A.
Congratulations, Jan!
Is one star enough is five too many? To be honest, after several years as a book reviewer, I know not every book I read will earn a 5 star recommendation. Unfortunately, only a slight percentage make it into that range, not because I don’t want each book to be star struck, but the truth is there is a lot of less than stellar work still getting published. Since I review both fiction and non-fiction, I’ve found the percentage of good to bad seems about the same in both.
The common method for ranking a book from bad to best is issuing one to five stars. The following is part of the process I use for choosing what to give.
One star means I think there is no redeeming value for this book. It stinks. Usually if they qualify for only one star, the author and/or publisher should be contacted with the courtesy offer to drop the review to save everyone the embarrassment of saying so in print. And yes, this does happen.
Two stars means it is poorly written and should have been better edited, or maybe has poor plotting, or lack of continuity. I had a couple of cases where the book was so shockingly offensive it should have had a warning on the cover and one of those books happened to be a non-fiction.
Please, people, one way to tick off a reader or reviewer is to try and pass off a book as one thing then hit them with extreme violence or profanity when they’re not expecting it. It is neither innovative nor creative thinking. It’s stupid. And I’m pretty sure you won’t like the review when it comes out.
As a fiction writer, as well as book reviewer, I believe there should be a rating on book covers similar to movie ratings to identify the level of violence, profanity, and sexuality within its pages. If you don’t agree, that’s fine; however, since this is my article, I get to share my opinion. (That’s also a good reminder of what you should remember about book reviews—they are simply the opinion of one person.)
Three stars mean the book has a lot going for it, but there are some issues that need attention. It is a safe middle ground for the adverage rating. It could mean I couldn’t connect with the characters, but the writing was fine. Or the story touched me, but the editing should have been better. Sorry, but this is the category where a large number of books fall for any number of reasons.
Four stars mean this is a good book, well written, good plot and characters-if fiction, easy to read with meaningful information-if non-fiction. But something is missing and it’s not the best it could be.
Five stars mean this book is awesome. The writing is stellar, and I’d highly recommend it for connecting to the reader and for accomplishing what the blurb promises.
The following is a list I’ve compiled with suggestions for writers who think they might want to become a book reviewer.
In the end all I can do is give my honest opinion, relieved that the review will most likely not have a huge impact on how many copies are sold, either good or bad. However, multiply my review with similar opinions and those reviews could sway certain readers to buy or avoid buying, especially in a tight economy. Therefore, I take this responsibility very serious.
The good news is there are perks for writing book reviews.
In conclusion, to every disappointed writer who ever poured yourself into writing an awesome book that didn’t receive the stunning reviews you expected, take heart; your work most likely falls somewhere between the reviewer’s opinion and your own. Therefore, don’t waste your time berating the reviewer, instead use that frustration and pent up energy to write the next best seller. No matter what the genre, there’s a book reviewer out there who can’t wait to read it.
Writing is a calling, a special gift from God,
Letters sowing messages, but not upon the sod.
A wonder happens every time the gift flows out of me,
It pours upon the paper, letters short and tall and free.
From those words many thoughts suddenly appear,
Then pictures form upon my mind making it so clear.
It flows with assigned direction, a peace from the start,
Amazed God used His servant’s hand and wrote upon my heart.
Thank you, God for the “gift”, use it as you will,
And thanks for letting me participate, it’s always such a thrill.
(This poem won first prize at FCW)
She sat rigid in her attention; her hands froze over the computer keyboard. Shock furrowed her sweat-beaded brow. The black and sinister computer screen glowed with pretended innocence in front of her.
It took only a heartbeat to confirm the reality of the situation and a tormented plea escaped her. “No! No! Please, not now!” Her hands clenched in a tight ball of frustrated restraint.
The wonderful, surely even brilliant, dialogue which was displayed only moments before was suddenly no where to be found. What happened to it? Dare she push anymore keys in an attempt to recover what was lost, or would it only provoke the evil Cyclops before her into swallowing the words voiding them forever?
In spite of what she had taught her grandchildren, “please” didn’t work with computers like it did grandmothers.
Could there be a secret Heimlich maneuver yet unknown to this less than computer savvy writer that forced the electronic knucklehead to give back what it wasn’t supposed to swallow, like the jawbreaker she once dislodged from her nephew’s throat?
How firm were deadlines anyway? A chill raced down her spine in spite of the recent hot flash. Any contract that contained the word dead couldn’t be good. After fifty one tends to pay much more attention to anything that could intentionally or unintentionally result in the above mentioned condition.
Did whining, “my computer ate my homework” qualify as a valid excuse for delay in this day and age of electronics?
She put her head into her hands and breathed out a silent prayer for strength and wisdom. When she looked up she caught the reflection of her wrinkles and double chin in the blank screen. Tears burned in her eyes and throat. Maybe she was too old to start a new career in writing? Maybe it was already too late?
The acrid smell of something burning jerked her attention away from the abyss of self-pity as the door chime on the security system alerted her to the entrance of someone into the house. She jumped up, instinctively grabbing the jump-drive from the computer port. “Ow!” Her left leg almost folded under her with a cramp from sitting too long. She hurried hobbling as fast as she could from her office as she tried to shake the pain from her limb. How long had she been engrossed in her work?
Before she could reach the kitchen, where the smoke and odor emanated she heard her husband’s voice of concern calling her.
“Hey, Hon, I turned off the timer and took out what I think is, a…was, a loaf of bread. It’s completely black and still smoking, so I’m not sure. Should I run water over it just to make sure the fire’s out?”
Before she could answer him, the phone rang and she picked up the cordless and wedged it against her ear with her shoulder as she opened the window to air out the kitchen. Her husband winked and smiled with understanding and pointed silently at the mail he had delivered and laid on the countertop. He waved good-bye and made his escape back out the door to his shop, throwing her a kiss as he left. She puckered up and smacked out loud like she caught it.
“Good you’re at home! I really need to talk to you.” A familiar female voice sobbed. A friend in crisis, too upset to question the curious kissing noise and chaos she surely heard in the background, was on the line. The next forty-five minutes were given freely to her need of encouragement and council.
A funny thing happened to the grandmother-writer as she comforted her friend. She also found peace as she listened and prayed. Her disasters took on a new perspective as she heeded her own advice. All she had to do was let go of the fear of failure.
The letter she had grabbed and used to wave over her head to make the smoke detector cease its squeal of alarm turned out to be a notification of a forgotten article about to be published and another letter contained a prize check for a poem she wrote for a contest. She had won first place. All were wonderful reminders that it wasn’t too late.
* * *
Show don’t tell. This is great advice for any newbie.
Though a bit exaggerated, I lived those experiences listed above. Maybe you have too? If you are twenty or thirty and have been writing and submitting for years you probably have a few more stories about juggling family, friends, work and writing.
Even at forty it’s not too late, they tell me, to get out that book tumbling around inside of you like rocks in the polisher. But what if you are over fifty or sixty or?
Should someone start a writing career after the age of fifty-five? I hope so, I did. Oh, I’ve been a storyteller since I was a child, but only the last few years did I feel the pressing need to share my stories with strangers.
I had no valid excuse for delaying any longer. My children are grown yet remain great encouragers for me. It’s nice to have your family proud of what you are trying to accomplish. My husband is my biggest supporter and will even help around the kitchen when needed without grumbling.
But after being out of school for such a long time, was it possible to learn the computer skills and all of the rules required with writing professionally after fifty? Sure!
Not only is it possible but its fun. After fifty you get to enjoy it without some of the pressures that the younger folks are dealing with. No crying babies to comfort or change or small children lurking or tugging on your clothing needing your undivided attention. The household is more self-sufficient and the pace is slower.
Well, the part about the pace being slower might be wishful thinking. After you begin your new journey of writing you will find there are fewer minutes to waste. Your characters and the craft begin to demand more and more of your time and attention. Your world expands exponentially as you join writing groups full of wonderful, talented people that actually want to help you accomplish your goals and whom care little about your age. Wow! What a concept. People, like yourself, that understand when you talk about the voices in your head and stories that won’t hush until you’re forced to stop and write them down. They don’t look at you with curious, squinted eyes and a fake smile of understanding as they secretly hope you haven’t already slipped into the world of dementia no matter how entertaining your stories are.
This reminds me of the story of the son who brought his father to the psychiatrist. “Sir, my father thinks he’s a chicken.” The psychiatrist tapped his finger against his chin as he watched the older man cluck and strut across the room. “And how long has he been like this?” The son replied, “About five years.” The psychiatrist stood up suddenly with obvious alarm. “Why, have you waited so long to get him help?” The son hung his head in embarrassment and confessed, “Because we needed the eggs.”
Hopefully I won’t be laying eggs for the next five years but if I do at least my family and friends will appreciate my efforts.
If you have been writing and writing without your perfect book being sold, don’t despair it’s not too late. It’s never too late to start writing! Nor is it too late to sell your story no matter what genre it is in. The market is ever changing so write what’s in your heart. Allow the words to flow through you like a river set free to quench the thirst of many readers. Search for the right group or groups of writers to help you grow and encourage you to succeed as you encourage them. You can do it, it’s not too late.
Oh, and in the meantime don’t forget to enjoy the journey. Only you can give voice to the stories within you. No matter what your age or physical condition you can remain forever youthful and beautiful through your stories. Whether you’ve been writing for years and published hundreds of books and articles or you’ve only just begun the journey, don’t ever give up on your dream. It’s never too late.
This is a very personal question for me. As a Christian, I believe the Bible needs to be the most read book of every home.
When I felt led to “fast” TV and movies for a year, I asked the Lord what He would have me do with my time. The answer surprised me. Write fiction? At first I thought that couldn’t be right and rebuked the thought and prayed some more.
The stories in me refused to be ignored. The story usually began with a premise–an overall theme. Like the first one was about an heiress who was being sought by a unscrupulous man who wanted to marry her for her fortune. He had also planned to eliminate her family to do it. (It’s an inspirational–so no one was actually killed in the making of this story, just put in protective custody until the end of the book. :0)
I could barely get that story onto paper when the next story came bubbling up like a spring until I wrote them down. I started out writing in longhand on notebook paper. Then my husband bought me a lap top computer which my grown children had to help me learn to use.
It turns out I was writing inspirational romantic suspense—before there was a market for such a genre.
To make a very long story shorter, I was led each step of the way—out of my comfort zone and into the world of professional writers. Do I ever doubt this is what I’m suppose to be doing right now? NO! All I have to do is glance back at the journey to know I’m on the right road. Is it hard? VERY! But worth every step.
