gb_lindsey: (whop)
Due to recent experience, I have decided there is nothing more insipid than a voice automated telephone answering service.

"You have chosen to speak to a live person. This is incorrect. Surely I can help you. Please say clearly the name of the person you are trying to reach. Did you say Dwight Eisenhower? You didn't say Dwight Eisenhower? You must be incorrect. Please say clearly what you would like to do. You have selected 'playing pinochle with a hamster'. Is this correct? You have chosen to speak to a live person. Invalid entry. Are you sure you do not wish to play pinochle with a hamster?"

**

Random Writing Exercise: Write the phone call that drove you insane. Write the character that got back at the smarmy telescam artist. Write the answer you wish you could have given.
gb_lindsey: (blue penguins)
The project this month is… moving.

Moving house, uprooting, disorganizing, reorganizing, categorizing, packing, oh god, the packing. All of it is stressful in a very physical way. I just hauled my cement block of a television up a flight of narrow wooden stairs to get it to my apartment door. Two steps from the top and you’re still miles away. Believe me, that’s the stress that keeps on giving.

However. It is also, I suspect, the most difficult part of the physical furniture moving. And it’s done.

Other things, not so much. There’s my cat, 16 years old and the feline equivalent of a cockroach: he will live forever and one day conspire with the Heart of Darkness (aka Sophie, my sister’s bunny) to take over the world. That said, he is still 16, still arthritic, and recently recovering from what may have been a small stroke. It swells the brain. He’s been treated, he’s doing well. But moving him… Ouch, in so many ways. On the one hand, do I want to relocate him, make him learn another haunt, meet new younger cats? On the other, he’s my cat, we snuggle every single night, he has a thing for ample-chested women because they are squashy and comfortable; how in the world am I going to get used to not having him there? On a third hand, because everyone should have a third hand: giant raccoons living in trees by my complex + consummate outdoor geriatric cat = oh no oh no oh god no.

But either way, I’m moving.

So, packing. Unpacking. Redistributing. Ripping up the home I know and hoping like hell that it’ll still hold the power to house me once I reassemble it in, let’s face it, a totally alien place. Yes, it’s a nice apartment, but it won’t be my home for a while. Maybe never, because I’ve lived in places that never became my home. I’m whiplashing back and forth between euphoria at finally having my own space and a terrible sense of misery and loss.

I think you just have to push through it, though. Can’t go around it, can’t wait for it to dissipate because then it just looms larger and larger in the corner of your eye. Wade firmly into the upheaval, hurt for a while, but shove through because eventually, things turn, dust settles. You hang that picture on the wall and step back and go, “Oh, there you are.”

And there it is.
gb_lindsey: (celtic cross)
In my everyday life, I work in living donor kidney transplant. That means that someone donates one of their two healthy kidneys to another person who is suffering from some form of kidney disease or failure. Living Donor kidneys tend to last longer than cadaveric kidneys (those donated from a deceased individual). The surgery itself is healthier for both donor and recipient: it's planned ahead of time, and no one has to jump up and rush to the hospital on a moment's notice.

And then, of course, there's this little gem: The Kidney Chain.

Last month, my center organized a chain of its own.

Today I got to watch four donors, one of whom was an altruistic donor (i.e., he had no recipient in mind; he just wanted to donate a kidney to someone in need) and four recipients meet each other for the first time after surgery. These are four pairs of donor/recipients who did not match each other as originally planned, but instead matched other people in other pairs.

This means that four people who might not have received a transplant got a healthy kidney. This means that four other people moved closer to transplant on the kidney transplant list, because these other four recipients moved off of it. This means that four people gave the gift of life to four other people they didn't know. This means that the last recipient on the list got a transplant far sooner than he probably would have while waiting on the list. This means that today, amidst cool, breezy weather, I got to meet eight healthy individuals and their families.

I honestly love that I can pause at the end of the day and say, "Hot damn, I love what I do."
gb_lindsey: (whop)
Let's get this going right.

The Hall of Fame: responses to the news about One Door Closes and subscribing to the newsletter:

Best Use of Imagery
"My lady, I humbly accept your invitation with the most profound sincerity and gratitude. Madam author, I shall await your future works of literature with much titillating anticipation, like that of a bull moose in the early whisper of spring awaiting a female. Or that of a Wal-Mart shopper on payday waiting for his meth dealer to call him back. Magnanimously, Your loyal supporter"

Best Troll
"Dear pretentious author aka Mz. Lindsey, I stumbled upon your site by chance, or maybe just bad luck, and I just have to say this: you are my new least favorite author. I can't wait to send you hate letter after hate letter detailing everything that I think is wrong with your books and your website. The appalling forest scene (who needs trees, anyway?) and the egregious cursive. My eyes are watering as I type this. And no, to answer your dismal question, I do NOT want to be a part of your "newsletter." Sincerely, your least favorite fan"

ETA: It's come to my attention that people are reading the Best Troll comment as a genuine insult. My apologies! Be assured, that's a dear friend of mine. She's been kind enough to make sure I always have a voice of dissention, no matter what happens during my writing career, and I heartily thank her for it! *laughs*

Win a spot in the Hall of Fame! Comment below, or here
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Greetings! The fourth newsletter is bigger stakes because…

THE COVER IS HERE. O.o

I present to you:
One Door Closes, the cover reveal at Prism Book Alliance


Want to win a free copy of the entire Secrets of Neverwood anthology when it comes out? Hop on over to the above link and enter toward the bottom to win! While you’re there, check out the excerpt from One Door Closes and the audio reading of the first ten minutes.

As if that cover isn’t scrumptious enough…

Book Two cover reveal: The Growing Season
• Come see the Anthology cover design, as well as the reveal of Part Two of the Secrets of Neverwood with author Diana Copland. Enter to win a copy of the anthology upon release!

Book Three cover reveal: The Lost Year
• Author Libby Drew talks about the brainstorming of Neverwood, the house where our main characters grew up, and offers the chance to win a copy of the full anthology!

Additionally, all three books plus the Anthology cover are now up on my brand spankin’ new website.


COMING SOON...

The official blog tour, courtesy of the lovely and talented Pride Promotions. This blog tour will include stop-offs on a list of blogs, featuring reviews of the book, interviews with me, and excerpts from the text. Please come by and join the fun!
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Come on over to Prism Book Alliance tomorrow for the exclusive cover reveal of One Door Closes!

An excerpt will be included. In the meantime, check out my reading of the first ten minutes!

A great big thank you to Brandi for all her hard work and support!
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Check out the first ten minutes of One Door Closes, read aloud!

One Door Closes (sample reading)
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Greetings all! Welcome to my second newsletter. ^_^


News on The Project!

It's official: One Door Closes has a release date! (And there was much rejoicing...)


June 20, 2014


On this date, my novella will be available as an eBook. If it sells well, paperback publication is the next step. I'm so excited I could spit!

Don't worry, though: I won't. Incidentally, if you can't wait for June 20th...


PRE-ORDER IS AVAILABLE!


One Door Closes is available for pre-order at Amazon (trilogy ~ single) and Barnes & Noble (trilogy ~ single).

I know not everyone has an eReader at his or her disposal. I, too, am a big fan of the traditionally bound book. However, until such time as One Door Closes is available in this form, I can suggest some free eReader software for your personal computer.

Calibre (E-book management)

There are other free and not so free eReaders available. Of course, use your own discretion with downloading any programs, but I can personally vouch for this one. I've used it since 2011, and it has yet to do me wrong. ^_^


COMING SOON...

Audio recording of a section of the novella for your listening pleasure!


Ways to Stalk Grete

TWITTER: @GBLindsey
BLOG: http://gb_lindsey.livejournal.com
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/lindseywords
AGENCY PAGE: http://www.corvisieroagency.com/GB_Lindsey.html
gb_lindsey: (celtic cross)
Korean War Memorial

This is Sacramento's Korean War memorial obelisk, in Capitol Park.

I really like the look of it.

It has sharp, clean lines that make it soar upward and seem taller than it is. It is also broken down the center on all four sides, an imperfect and ragged edge that draws the attention immediately. The top is sheared off as if torn. Every surface is covered with photographic images. There's something warm about it, but I'm not sure what. Maybe the color. At the base is a circle of lush grass, surrounded by concentric circles of pale gray paving stones. There are stone benches along the edge, and on one side, stone placards dedicated to different military units.

The defining moment for me concerning the Korean War was the fact that until my junior year of high school, I didn't know it existed. This shocks me, still. I grew up watching MASH with my parents, but at the time, I thought the war in question was Viet Nam, and the person in charge of setting was just really bad at approximating the tropics.

It's chillingly sad that in my case, the nicknames for the Korean War were so accurate.

Today there was a veteran sitting on one of the stone benches, talking. Whether anyone was around didn't seem to make a difference in his tone or the content of his speech. He said something that struck, and stuck:

"People keep wishing me a Happy Veteran's Day. Happy Veteran's Day, they say. Veteran's Day is not happy."

I don't want to philosophize about my visit today, or try to force it into some cosmic uber-meaning. Just that he's right. Why in god's name would you ever wish someone a "happy" Veteran's Day? It does not roll off the tongue. It does not evoke grins. It's not a celebration at all as much as a meditation on experiences that, hopefully, most of us cannot understand. It's recognition of people like him, who understand now whether they want to or not, and of other people who never came home.

He said more. "When I had to wipe Steve's lips off my eyebrows, that was not happy."

We often glorify war. We trivialize things and try to give them cosmic meaning. We make it about warriors and honorable death. It's hard, maybe impossible, to handle otherwise.

I'm honestly not sure what I'm trying to say here about my visit to the memorial today. Every time I try to analyze, the result is unsatisfying and vaguely insulting. I want to celebrate the people who fought and sacrificed, but true "celebration" seems inappropriate. I'd want to wish happiness, but I don't feel it's my place today. I guess I'd like to not analyze it, not try to find any higher meaning. Instead I want to acknowledge that it HAPPENED, that people fought, that it brought out the best in some and the worst in others, that I cannot understand what any of them went through, and I'm very grateful that I can't.

No war should be forgotten.

Korean War Memorial 2
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Welcome to the first ever newsletter update on the works and publications of

G.B. LINDSEY!



Top Four Ways to Stalk Grete

TWITTER: @GBLindsey
(Being a Twit is so much fun…)

BLOG: http://gb_lindsey.livejournal.com
(Where I expound upon writing and life.)

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/lindseywords
(Click! Like! Oh my god, it’s like you’re in my bushes!)

AGENCY PAGE: http://www.corvisieroagency.com/GB_Lindsey.html



News on The Project!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am thrilled to announce that my first book has been sold to Carina Press and is (tentatively) scheduled for release in June 2014!

(Please excuse me while I perform an interesting interpretation of the happy dance.)

This book is a contemporary romance. That said…

1. No bodices were harmed in the production of this novella.
2. There are no pirates acquiring high-born ladies or gentlemen in questionable ways.
3. There is no swashbuckling at all unless you count the irresponsible wielding of a set of house keys, but on the upside…
4. There is no eventual surrender to Stockholm syndrome by way of the nearest silken bower. Silver lining, thar ye be.

What there is: a young gay man who must juggle saving a house, gaining a family, and falling back in love.

When Calvin Ware's foster mother Audrey passes away and gifts him her ramshackle Victorian mansion, he figures he's got his hands full. He doesn't count on having to share the place with two of his foster brothers, and he certainly never meant to come face to face with the high school boyfriend he left behind a decade ago. But when unexpected demons from Calvin's past threaten his new home and his mother’s legacy, Calvin must decide just how important family really is, and how he chooses to define it.

The novella title is still unconfirmed, but the real carrot is that my story is just the first in a trilogy! The following two novellas are being written by my wonderful co-writers Diana Copland and Libby Drew, each telling the story of a different brother.

For those who are unfamiliar with Carina Press, it is Harlequin's e-publishing house. Yes, Harlequin. O.o I am very excited to have been selected for publication under this house's name on my first time out!

That’s it for Newsletter #1! Thank you from the cockles of my heart for being a part of my writing adventures.

Yours,

G.B. Lindsey
gb_lindsey: (tree)
Regarding Star Trek Into Darkness. (Don't worry, I will break for spoilers...)

Torn. Liked it, was fun... but I find, as was pointed out by a dear friend, I have trouble when whole scenes/lines from the original series are cannibalized and then used in ways that can't possibly have anywhere near the same impact, simply because this particular crew hasn't earned it yet. Which is fine. They haven't been together all that long, it'll come. And I do have faith that this new crew will build its own poignant legend as most of the others have. There's a lot of power in this ensemble, and they have one thing that I have found makes the experience: in-depth and well-written character interaction (for the most excellent example of how this succeeds, please watch ST: The Next Generation). I'm talking about individualized characters bumping against each other and reacting in ways that are not only appropriate, but evocative of MORE interaction, more plots. They feed off each other and the whole thing becomes this beautiful cohesive whole that goes way deeper than the plot-of-the-week.

But. We ARE dealing with a revamp of my absolute favorite original Star Trek film here, so I'm afraid I cannot look at this film without a little bit of :/

And here we go with the spoilers. SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER )
gb_lindsey: (polar express)
Recently I headed back to Minnesota to visit my dad's family in the immediate wake of my grandmother's death. It was, as these things are, a last minute purchase of plane tickets and an abrupt change in plans, and we arrived to pristine but extremely cold weather: the lakes in the Twin Cities area and much of the St. Croix River had frozen over and were covered in snow, like glistering meadows of white sand. Fishing huts with Christmas lights and cars parked out on the lakes will tell you just how thick that ice was and how firmly below freezing the temperature remained.

It was not only a trip back to the reality of dressing in layers daily and taking that five minutes to peel all one's outerwear off when sitting down in a restaurant for lunch. It was also getting to see my dad and all his siblings under the same roof with their father for the first time in a while. We're a bit spread out: Texas, Oregon, California, Minnesota, and sometimes Florida. (Much like my mother's side, which ranges through Michigan, Ohio, California, and the south.) It's a ways to travel and though we do see each other, it isn't terribly often.

It's the reality I grew up with. I have friends with extended family a block away from their childhood homes, and it's always been a blink-worthy moment for me, imagining being able to ride my bike around the corner or over to the next neighborhood to see my cousins. And while this particular meeting was for a sad reason, it was very good to see my uncles and aunts, my step-uncles and step-aunts, great uncle and aunt, cousin and step-cousins, and a whole side of my grandmother's extended family that I'd never met before. (My grandmother is technically my step-grandmother, but as a child, there was no distinction for me.) It was especially good to see my grandfather, who is spry and anxious to get back to tennis again after a car accident a little while back.

One night, we sat in my aunt and uncle's kitchen and were regaled for over an hour by the story of how they got together, a story I'd never heard. My cousin was clearly a veteran of this story, but save for my grandfather who had gone to bed, we were all in one room—at the kitchen table, the island, the computer desk, the cushioned chairs by the window—and we were listening to a history of the people in my family. It’s a history that never directly affected me, but it shaped them, and my two cousins, my father and his siblings. It dealt with how their careers brought them in contact, and it was entwined with stories I already knew, about my dad’s mother (who passed away years ago), and my dad’s grandparents, uncles and aunts. It made me think about how my own parents got together, and how everyone with these different lives had been drawn back home to be together again.

One family line, all in one room. It’s a little amazing, if you sit back and think about it, as I did.

The morning of the day we left, my father and I got in the car and drove over to the neighborhoods where he’d grown up. There were multiple houses to see. My dad took me down the paper route he’d had with his brother, past the homes of kids they’d played with, the schools they’d all attended. He told me about how people viewed the second neighborhood in general, the stereotypes they had for the individuals who hailed from there. He showed me dead ends that were no longer dead ends, schools that had come and gone, and reminisced about being kids out at recess, all dressed in ski pants and sliding down icy slopes without sleds. We pondered the existence of new streets, new schools, new houses. I pondered what it would be like taking my future children to the neighborhoods where I grew up.

There’s such a backstory here, a thousand details little and big, faces remembered and lives lived heartily. Older people who were young and young people who will one day be old with their own stories. Hell, we’ve already got stories, some that many don’t hear about due to mere circumstance. It’s a rich, undiscovered world well worthy of exploration.

~~

Not So Random Writing Exercise: Explore a character’s family tree. Who are the people who came before? The people that came along at the same time? The people they married or didn’t marry, and the people who interacted with them? If there aren’t any people, why? Did they never exist or have they already gone? Sit them all around a kitchen table and tell them the stories of their lives.
gb_lindsey: (whop)
Tis November, NaNoWriMo month! (That's National Novel Writing Month, wherein writers are challenged to write 50,000 words in 30 days.) In fact, it is the end of November, when most people are either scrambling diligently to reach their quota or sitting back and enjoying that gorgeous word count table and the beautiful "WINNER!" bars next to their names.

This would have been my third year in a row participating.

I cannot stress enough what a great idea NaNo is, because above all else, it gets people writing. It certainly did for me. It loosens up those cords binding the words in, shutting down voices. You know, those barriers that say things like, "That'll never work, it doesn't make sense, don't even bother starting." NaNo brings people together in support and friendly competition. And it results in a WHOLE LOT OF FIRST DRAFTS.

The first year I did it, it was a revelation. What came out of it was 50K of culture, scenery and characters set in the realm of death omens, namely the Black Dog and the souls designated to fill the role of harbinger for the rest of the world. I haven't done too much with it since, but I am so proud of it, and it's a universe I am chomping at the bit to explore in more detail.

The second year, while more prolific (I wrote 60K with time to spare), was also disturbingly sobering. I wrote a coming of age tale about a gay boy and the best friend he's secretly in love with, driving from California to Yellowstone National Park the summer before college. The story, drawn heavily from my own trip to Yellowstone that summer, was in and of itself not the problem. It came out (no pun intended) very readily, and I liked my characters and where they went, in the real world as well as metaphorically.

The reason I decided not to do NaNo a third time in a row came out of this second try, however: As freeing as it is to just write and write and write, no self-editing, no redrafting, just hit that 50,000 mark and then you are allowed to look at it a second time... Such a method ended up being detrimental to my particular writing style. I found myself tossing down as many words as I could in order to reach my daily quota. Never mind if those words actually had a real place or purpose in the story. Never mind if they were just restatements of the adjectives that came before. The stressful part turned out not to be meeting the word count so much as coming back later and realizing that, had I been allowed to write in my normal manner, I would not be back chopping out a third of what I'd spent a month putting down.

I know we are taught not to self-edit as we write, but frankly, it works for me. Only rarely does it stopper my writing. It does not slow my process but rather enhances it: I go back and reread what I've already written in order to glean more knowledge about the places I have yet to go, the scenes I am gearing up to write. In this sense, it helps that I do not tend to write a story's scenes in order. I will write the beginning, then something two-thirds of the way through, then the end, then right after the beginning, then the middle, then... You get the idea. If it comes into my head, I get it down before I forget it, regardless of where it is slated to end up in the story's timeline. Ultimately this method assists me in keeping themes arcing strongly and teaches me more about my characters and the world they live in. One would think this method would lend itself well to NaNo; when there is no rule concerning writing in order, a person can just go crazy. Fly. Erupt with a tide of storytelling.

Not true. For me, it turned into another way to not actually write. And by that I mean "write substance".

This year, I bowed out. Next year I may come back to NaNo, because goodness knows it's a wonderful way to flood the brain with ideas. Get things moving. This November, though, I needed time to work as I work best: producing something ultimately less wordy but that I can nod at and call quality.

How are you all finding NaNo? Does it work for you?

~~

Random Writing Exercise: Try another method of writing. If you always write consecutive scenes, try writing the ending of your story first. If you tend to write all over the place (like me), trying writing a story in order, start to finish. If you edit as you go, try just writing straight up (no editing until you're done) and vice versa. Challenge yourself, just for this one story. How does this switch inform your style of choice? How does it cramp said style? (I know a lot of writers with a lot of different writing styles. We can always stand to learn from the styles of others, whether they work for us or not.)
gb_lindsey: (tree)
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!!!! ^___^
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Congrats to my little sis, who voted in her very first election tonight!!! *claps*
gb_lindsey: (tree)
Just a quick update to say that I am now represented by the Corvisiero Literary Agency. My agent remains the delightful and amazing Saritza Hernandez, aka [livejournal.com profile] epubagent. ^__^

Here is my Profile Page at the Agency's website.

Update soon on my current project, a short story anthology I'm working on with two fantastic writers!
gb_lindsey: (ring the bell)
Don't ever let someone make you feel like you don't have something to offer. The reverse of this is called "respect".

Another thing: If you ever feel completely out of your depth in terms of something you really want to do, RESEARCH. The more you know, the less frightening and unattainable it is.
gb_lindsey: (loki)
Dingo went in for surgery two days ago and came back yesterday minus one left front limb. As it was the limb that sported a particularly heinous bone cancer, this is a good, good thing... though also a bad thing.

Bad because it's so strange to see him like this, and to see those big ugly sutures (no bandages, not deemed necessary in vet world, better to air it out apparently, which I'm fine with). Good because now the extremely painful bone growth is GONE.

*cheers with low energy*

He's extremely tripped out on all his meds and therefore very loopy, but doing well. He got up on his own last night and stood there with assistance, looking thoroughly weirded out about the whole thing, and eventually sat down again. But it was lovely. According to the vet, he's ahead of the curve (was already trying to get up the same day as his operation), and the surgery itself went perfectly.

They are going to take a closer look at the growth now that it's off him and hopefully get us some more detailed information about the type of cancer and how advanced it is. It could be a completely different type of cancer than first suspected, a less aggressive form, so that's what we're hoping for. But even if it's not... at this point it's good to know we've done this for him, even though it is simultaneously distressing.

Recovery-to-bounciness time seems to be about 2-3 weeks.

Right now, he's wearing a white tank top a la this (minus the grubby) and sacked out on his giant memory foam cushion. ^__^
gb_lindsey: (whop)
Yeah, so I MIGHT be a huge Batman fan. >.>

Just posted pics from my The Dark Knight Rises party on Sunday. On the menu were The Creped Crusader (with Ra's al Ghulberry filling if desired) and these lurvely cupcakes created by me and my sis.

My favorite cupcakes, you ask?

Wanna see a magic trick? TADAAAAAAA!!!
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