Olivia Charles

I though I would share a short Christmas Story with you.

A Thrill of Hope

“Mrs. Stanford.”

Suzanne stopped at the sound of her name, the grimace on her face hidden from the speaker behind her. She took a deep breath to steady herself before turning around. The new choir director marched through the hallway aiming for directly for her.

Her lips pinched and her eyes narrowed as she spoke to man. “Mr. Powers, we have already discussed the issue and I have nothing more to say.” She glanced at her watch and tapped her foot in irritation. She had less than ten seconds before Ryan started looking for her, and, in the labyrinth of the church building hallways, he could hide forever. She had no patience to play hide-n-go-seek with her ten-year-old son. “Ryan’s class has been let out and I must pick him up.”

“He will be fine for a minute. I need to talk to you.”

“I will not be late.”

“Mrs. Stanford, please think of the talent that Ryan has. God has given him a gift that should be shared, not hidden. What did Pastor Mike say just today? ‘We must give God our all.’ Cannot Ryan share his gift instead of keeping it to himself?”

“I have told you already that the answer is no. Now please excuse me.” She turned to leave and was surprised to feel a strong grip on her elbow. Her eyes blazed at the hand holding her elbow and she lifted those eyes to man who owned the hand. With clenched teeth and her best how-dare-you-touch-me stare, she spoke loud, emphasizing each word. “Please excuse me.” She jerked her arm away and practically ran from the man.

Read the full short story from Amazon as a Kindle book, or Smash Words (www.smashwords.com)

Yesterday, we had a presentation about e-publishers during our RWA chapter meeting. Out of respect for our member wo gave the presentation, I didn’t speak my mind. But I don’t want anyone to come away from the meeting thinking you can make a career from e-publishing. You can’t. The money is just not there. Even the presentors admitted they were submitting to New York publishers. They haven’t quit their days jobs, and won’t… not if their sole source of income is e-pubbing.

They talked about distribution. E-pubs call it worldwide distribution. True. And they discussed perpetual availability. True.

However, they didn’t discuss raw numbers in print runs, readership, or sales. Being available on a website is fine, but being on the shelves at Borders produces many more sales.

I have heard an average print run for a Harlequin line book is 85,000. Of those, 75,000 are sold in a month. The rest are either destroyed or in an Amazon warehouse available for purchase. The average download for an e-pub book is 150. (Yes there are exceptions and some do have larger downloads, and Rowling sells 7 million books, too)

Let’s do the math. Harlequin pays 6% royalties and the cover price is $5. (I’m simplifying things because book club percentages are less and cover prices are more.) Five dollars times six percent times 75,000 books sold equals…. $22,500. Cerridwen Press pays 35% royalties and the cover price is $5. Five dollars times thirty-five percent times 150 books is…… $262.50. And that’s probably a good check. I’ve heard of some authors getting a check for $25.

Let’s discuss distribution and availability for a minute. How many of you have heard of Border’s Books or Barnes and Nobles? All of you, right. Now how many of your friends, neighbors and co-workers have heard of these bookstores? Most of them. Could you find a person in your realm of existence that has never heard the name of a bookstore in town? Maybe… maybe not.

How many of you have heard of Wings Press, Liquid Silver Books, Medallion Press, Cerridwen Press, Wild Rose Press, Loose Id, Sourcebooks, or Samhain? Maybe you’ve heard of them all, maybe just some. Now go ask your friends, neighbors and co-workers if they have heard of these e-publishers. How many would have heard of just one? Any?

Do you see where I’m going with this? When most people want a book, they go to a brick and mortar bookstore, Walmart, Meijer’s or the corner drugstore. If my book is on the shelf, it may get picked up. If a person wanted to buy an e-book, would they know where to look? A quick google search of “books on line” gave me over 700 million hits, with the first few pages being for free downloads. A search of “romance ebooks” did better. It came up with some of the publishers listed above in about two million hits.

I am not saying never to publish through an e-publisher. If you do, know what you are getting into. Know that you will not make a lot of money with them.

E-pubbing, though, can show you how to work with an editor and deadlines. You can get your feet wet in the publishing world through e-pubs. But, you will be doing the same amount of work for an e-publisher as for a NY print publisher. Do you want to bother if your not getting paid the same?

I've been reading some of the romance chapters at www.gather.com. I've learned a lot in just reading them.

I've heard that editors want to see Goal, Motivation, Conflict (GMC) in the first chapter. Now I know why. Some of the chapters were very nicely written, but had no conflict. In some, we hadn't met both the hero and heroine. In some, we had nice descriptions, very little action and all back story.

I can see why an editor would want GMC right up front and all laid out. By the end of the first chapter, the plot should be discernible. The reader shouldn't have to read two more chapters to get to the "meat" of the story.

Some of the writers were open to listen to criticism. Some thought their writing was the best and the readers just didn't "get it".

Well.... there's fiction and there's commercial fiction.

They may write well enough for a blog or college class or what ever. But will their writing stand up to the market? Editors can be ruthless. I think some of these writers were missing the point that a publisher wants to sell books. They want writing that has commercial value. If a reader is bored, it won't sell. Maybe some of the chapters didn't belong in the contest.

It will be very interesting to see which chapters get advanced to the next level.

How about a short excerpt from my latest book:

Lord Grey turned his back on the window and stared at the far wall. In the cupboard was something he had not thought of in months. He knew it still lay there behind the door. Dare he just look at it?

He walked to the cupboard and pulled out a smooth, black leather case. He placed it on a table and unhooked the latches. It had been months since he last opened it. Longing and dread fought within him. Slowly, uneasy about the contents, he lifted the lid.

Involuntarily, he took a deep breath as if he could breathe in the very essence of the wood. One hand reached out and his fingertips lightly brushed the polished spruce. It seemed years since he had last touched the violin. His fingers barely strummed the strings and the faintest notes of music floated in the air.

Images from his memory floated through his mind. He played the violin with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra. Other images of practicing, discussions with musicians and the conductor, and... his hand drew back as if stung. Happier times of a private concert for Miss Chaworth.

When he fled Newstead Abbey, he put away his violin and vowed never to play again. It reminded him too strongly of the pain and ridicule he’d suffered. Byron’s taunts that violins were not for peers but for commoners had stung and undone all the months of studying in Vienna. Could Grey put those painful days behind him?

He looked into the case at the curved wood. His breath came shallower. The instrument called to him. He shut his eyes to block the allure, but he could not resist. It was too much a part of him and his life. He had ignored it for months now, but the yearning within him was too strong.

Grey lifted the violin and caressed the neck, fingered the strings, and fitted it to his left hand. The base swung to his chin and he nestled it, savoring the feel of the sleek, warm wood. The bow materialized, an extension of his right hand. His gut clenched. He held it suspended above the strings, listening to the quiet.

He brought the bow down across a string and closed his eyes to the sound of the sweet note. He breathed deeply, inhaling the music, feeding his starved soul. The fingers of his left hand moved, he angled the bow and brought it up. Another note rose from the instrument. He felt himself relax.

He played more notes, and music poured out of the violin like a dam releasing a river of water. His body moved in rhythm with the music, his arms stretching and his shoulders keeping time.

He played of the pain and agony trapped in his soul. His instrument moaned of worthlessness and loneliness. He played for hours. The candle guttered and died and he still played.

He played until his shoulders and arms ached. He finally dropped the violin from his chin. The room hummed as if the walls absorbed the music and now released the notes.

Relief that he could still play flooded his thoughts. He was rusty and needed more practice, but the music was within him. Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Mozart and others were all within his grasp and waiting for him. He just needed to reach out.

In the total darkness, he found his way back to the case, replaced the vibrating instrument and snapped the case shut. Musical notes still trembled in the air. He stumbled to the chair and collapsed.

Someday I may post a picture of me.

I love voices. I love listening to voices, and certain voices speak to me (no pun intended). I recall a play where I loved hearing the main female actor speak. To this day, I could not tell you what the play was about, but her musical voice lingers on, a musical contralto. I love men's baritone and bass voices. Alan Rickman has to have the sexiest voice of all men in Hollywood. That deep bass voice just cuts right through me.

My heroes have voices that my heroines love to listen to. Selina will fight the trance of Raven's voice. Anna swoons at Grey's baritone and feels it surround her. And Anna's musical voice gives Grey comfort.

Today, I met our lawyer (M) in person. I spoke to him over the phone (and he has a great phone voice), but I had never met him in person. My husband has. My sister has had M do some child custody work for her but (the skank) never mentioned his looks.

So, M is doing all the paperwork for selling a house. He met us at the title company. I walk into the room and see this tall (6'3") gorgeous well-built 40-ish male with a voice to melt me into the floor. I had to stop myself from pooling at his feet.

After folding my tongue back into my mouth, I was able to introduce myself, shake hands, make small talk and introduce my mother-in-law, all the while trying not to stare or drool. Tall, dark, and handsome in the flesh with a voice like soft corduroy. Take me....

Right Olivia.... remember where you're at.... husband sitting across the table.

I didn't think men like this lived in the midwest. Aren't they all in California?

So, he's explaining all the paperwork, I'm in trance from his voice, and trying to explain the papers in a way that MIL could understand. I was able to stop staring, but not stop listening. This guy could make the phone book sound exciting.

How can I explain his voice? Like water rumbling over boulders, or chocolate on peanuts, a Cadillac driving over a brick pavement or a tuba playing ballet. Hypnotic, mesmerizing, and magnetic...

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