Category Archives: Revision

ROW80 Update, Gold Stars Edition

I’m lying in bed as I type this. Not by choice; my lower back still feels like it’s trying to peel itself away from the rest of my body and escape. Still, it’s nice to have the option. It’s 2:38 on Saturday afternoon, the kids haven’t killed each other while I’ve been in here, my parents are safely at their new home in THIS VERY PROVINCE (holycrapwow)… So I’m not complaining about anything.

A Round of Words demands an update, does it?

*cracks knuckles*


I’m moving slowly toward my editing goals. Chapters one and two have shaped up nicely– nicely enough to be sent away and ripped apart, anyway. I’ve eliminated most of the semicolons from the manuscript, which a few of you know is a big huge insane accomplishment. My addiction is ridiculous. Like, multiple semicolons in a single paragraph ridiculous, because they’re invisible to me when I’m reading things over. There are now exactly three in the entire book.

PROGRESS! *self-high-five, which is really just clapping, but whatever*

I’ve also got scenes outlined on lovely index cards, and have decided that a few of them could be combined with other scenes, which (maybe, possibly, I hope) might cut a few thousand words and make one character stronger. I’ve finally nailed down one main character’s motivation for doing a Very Big Thing, and the other’s situation at the beginning of the story.

Pro tip: Make sure you get these things straight before you start the first draft. Or the second. *headdesk* This is what I get for allowing the guy who was supposed to be a love interest to tell his side of the story.

Sooooo many scenes.

Sooooo many scenes.

In related-but-not-goal-specific news, my earliest reader for Bound is now looking at my draft of the sequel. This is a huge step for me– I never show anyone work that’s not polished. I think this will be better, though, because I already know there are issues. My wonderful friend has been asking for this for over a year and a half, now. It’s time.


I’ve started reading that ARC that I mentioned, and I’m already floored by the amazingness. So far it rates a “let the bathwater get cold” on the “Couldn’t Put It Down” scale, which isn’t too shabby. I’m always a little nervous about promising a review (as I’m always honest, but hate to hurt anyone’s feelings), but I don’t think I need to worry about stepping on any toes with this one.

I finished reading Coraline to the boys last night, and they’re already asking when we can read it again. I suggested maybe reading another book together, instead. They’re considering it.

Haven’t read any non-fiction this week.


I’m getting better (though by no means perfect) about putting the phone down when the kids are around. I crave distraction, so this is difficult for me. This probably indicates deep and horrible issues, but for now, I’ll just deal with that symptom.

Made to-do lists every night. Partial credit for follow-through.

Meal planning… THAT’S what I was supposed to be doing right now! I knew there was something. Better get on that. See below for my cry for help…

So that’s it. I think I’m doing well so far. I’m going to have four hours to kill on Monday when I take the car in for repairs and have to wait around for a dentist appointment, so here’s hoping I get a crazy amount of editing done then, or at least get through one of the two upcoming tough bits. I’ll be reporting back on Wednesday, and if I stay on track I’ll let myself participate in WIPpet Wednesday this week.

Gold stars all around!

Questions for you: Any ideas for cheap, simple meals that don’t require that the cook stand for long periods of time? What do you think I should read next with the kids? And writers, at what stage do you feel comfortable letting people see your work?

So Long, Farewell

…Kind of.

I’m going to be somewhat busy this month as I attempt to prepare a 100,000+ word novel for editing. I thought at one time that I was done, but I’m now aware of plot issues that I can’t just let go. Why pay someone to tell me what I already know, right? So back in I go, no doubt bashing my head into the desk at regular intervals, as soon as the kids are back in school next week. The good news is that I’m having a good time reading it over, in spite of the fact that I should be sick of it by now. So hooray for that!

I’ll be doing a big post on things I’ve learned from this process some time in the near future. SO MUCH LEARNING I AM DOING, and it’s only beginning. The next few months should be quite intense.

I’m not complaining about the work. It’s a puzzle, but the answer is there. I just need to find it. And I did sign up for this, after all. But it’s going to be busy, and I’m on my first real deadline since I started taking my writing seriously. So what I’m saying is that I might not be around a lot between now and mid-February, as this has to take precedence over blogging. I’ll try to be here for WIPpet Wednesdays, and I should be around to read blogs and like/comment when I can. There will likely be a few spontaneous posts. I just can’t stay away, and I wouldn’t want you all to forget me completely. *sob*


Two steps forward…

…and then, inevitably, one back. AMIRITE?! *puts imaginary gun to head*

Two critique partners have pointed out a disgusting flaw in my story to me. It’s not one that previous readers mentioned, but now I’m slapping myself for not seeing it, and my muse has been sent to sit in the corner and think about what he allowed me to do.


Anyway, it’s nothing I can’t fix, and everything is going to be better for it (this is why I loves my CPs), but it’s something that seems relatively simple at first glance… and then makes you go “holy crap, this changes SO MUCH OF EVERYTHING.”

So two steps forward (people like the story, things are good), one step back (partial revisions needed again). Pretty much what I expected, basically. Sometimes you know something’s not right but can’t figure it out, and you have to find people who care enough to gently smack you with a 2×4 of readerly/writerly wisdom to help you focus on potential poopstorms.

I’m actually happy about this. I want my work to kick as much ass as possible and I never want to put out a book that makes multitudes of readers go “Why did no one point this crap out to her?” My inner perfectionist, however? She is pitching A SHIT FIT. She’s such a bitch, I swear. I can critique other people’s work, find flaws, and think no less of them as a writer or a person. If I make a mistake, though, Miss Perfect gets all huffy and tells me I should be embarrassed, get all emo, give up already, maybe re-think the whole writing thing or switch to something marketable like zombie porn. (Don’t look at me like that. These are both huge things in publishing today!)

*zombie/prostitute joke removed because I respect you all too much*

But that’s just Miss Perfect talking, and I’ve learned one important thing about her: She’s not me. Simple, yet profound. These thoughts are not me. These thoughts are not truth. These thoughts lead down a rabbit hole I have no interest in exploring. I am allowed to tell my old friend companion tormentor to shove off and take her nastiness with her. It’s a good feeling.

Why am I sharing this with you all? Two reasons. One, because I think honesty helps all of us. If me talking about my failings/setbacks helps someone else understand that mistakes are okay, we can’t do this alone and shouldn’t expect ourselves to, then I’ll do it. The second reason is that I might not be talking too much about writing for a wee, tiny little while, just until I get this all sorted out in my mind.

My thoughts needs to incubate, yo. Hang on a sec.

*sigh* Yes, you can come out of the corner…

OK, back to work for us. I’ll be posting a few times this week, probably about my trip to Ontario. There’s SO much I wanted to share with you guys! You know, besides the unicorn. That one couldn’t wait.

I don’t know whether I’ll be posting for WIPpet Wednesday, but I’ll be back to commenting on everyone’s work this week, and trying to get back into commenting on ROW80 stuff, too.

See you around!

*Just kidding. I love him… this is so my fault.

WIPpet Wednesday- Giving Up & #ROW80 update

No, not me. I’m not giving up. Not yet. But there comes a time in every story (or at least, there should) where a character reaches a point when he or she is ready to give up, when things can’t get any worse, when they’d do anything to get out of a situation.

I was just revising this last week, and it’s still wandering forlornly around in my brain during quiet moments. This is Aren again, a guy who never expected to care this much about anything. He’s done something stupid, and he and Rowan are both paying for it.

Thirteen sentences from chapter 26 (curse you, chapter 26! And you too, 27, I’m still watching you). Today is 17/7/2013… 1+7+7-2-0=13.

Isn’t WIPpet math the best?

This is all I’m going to give away from this part of the story, because we’re (obviously) getting into spoiler territory. I like to think the book would be enjoyable even if you knew the ending, but why ruin the fun, right? Sorry I left something out here…

I’d exhausted my supply of magic in finishing *wee spoiler*, but that didn’t leave me completely helpless. I curled my body around hers, wrapped my cloak around both of us, and channelled what magic I could take from the land into producing heat in my own skin. Still the cold night air pressed in around us, greedy, stealing everything I created.

My people know a number of deities, the great unnamed Goddess and a seemingly limitless pantheon of lesser gods. It had always seemed to me that they’d shown little concern for me over the course of my life, and for the most part I’d shown them the same courtesy. Now, though, I closed my eyes, and I begged. Get us through this night. Let me help her to safety. Keep Severn away, and I’ll do anything. I’ll change. If you demand it, I’ll go back and face whatever I now owe to my family. Just let her come back, let her live. I didn’t even know who I was praying to, only that I needed to hold onto those thoughts to keep me from going mad.

Man, I need to post something less depressing soon. Where did that mer-people party get to?

And should that be “whom” in the last sentence? I suck at whom.

So anyway, if you’ve been around for a while, you know the rules, and you know you can join right in any time. We don’t bite. We might cookie-dough-and-glitter you (this is the new tar-and-feather, it’s much more fun), but that’s about the worst you’ll get from the WIPpeteers. Post an excerpt from a work in progress that relates to today’s date, add your blog link through the linkie you’ll find at My Random Muse, and be sure to drop by and comment on other people’s stuff. Seriously, join us. Best part of my week.


#ROW80 Update

OK, we need a Round of Words update today, don’t we? Man, Wednesdays are busy around here!

Writing: Trying to get 4 chapters a day ready for beta readers. Actually, I should be doing that right now… Other goals are good, see you later!

(Oh, and I’m adding the goal of visiting three or more ROW80 blogs every Sunday and Wednesday… since I’m doing that anyway. Looking for more updates? Here’s the link!)

Oh, Happy Day


Eight pages, guys.

Eight pages until I’m done this *expletive deleted* round of revisions. There are still a few changes to make in the last chapter, but the end (or rather, The End) is so close I can smell it.

And folks, it smells goooood.

I can’t type fast enough to keep up with all of the exciting that’s happening right now. I know how it ends, and I’m still getting all twitchy. It’s a great feeling.

Know what else is a great feeling? This:

Last night, my brother called me. This doesn’t happen often, but wasn’t entirely unexpected, since we’re staying with him and his adorable family when we visit Ontario later this month. But one of the reasons he called this time was to inform me that my sister-in-law had got a hold of my book. It was an old version, the first one I sent out to volunteer victims readers for feedback, but which my brother hadn’t had time to read (true fact: no one in my family had read it up to this point). I got quite nervous when he said that.


Apparently I have two weeks to finish the next book so she can read that one, too.

Yaaaaay! I mean, that’s impossible for me, but that’s a great reaction!

Gotta love when that happens. It wasn’t just that someone said that they enjoyed the story and wanted more, but that it came out of the blue, from someone who had no obligation to read or to give me feedback. I wasn’t waiting to hear what she thought, because I didn’t know she was reading it. If she’d hated it, she could have said nothing and told my brother to chuck it in the garbage. Instead, he’s going to read it. I told him to wait for the revised version, but he’s thinking about reading both and letting me know what he thinks of the changes.


So that’s one more person who’s going to beta read for me when this thing gets wrapped up. For anyone else who’s waiting, the plan is to finish what I’m doing now (probably tomorrow, if I can sleep tonight and not get up to write), then go through backwards to polish everything up right nice n’ shiny, and then I’ll be in touch to see if you’re still interested and to find out what format you want it in.

And then I’ll hyperventilate until people get back to me, and then I’ll probably cry a bit, and then I’ll get back to work.

Sounds like a plan?

Something Different

I usually post something writing-related on Tuesdays. This week, I’ve pretty much got nuthin’. So what I’m offering is a picture, and a question.

I’ve been enjoying everyone’s comments on my first-draft-ish vampire… stuff… the past few weeks. I know it’s not perfect, and I know that you all know that (and you know that I know that you know that, etc), but it’s very encouraging, especially when I usually show that kind of stuff to NOBODY. That’s how special you all are to me. One pass for typos-and-grammatical-faux-pas special.

So here’s a picture of something different. This is a printed page of my third (fourth? Fourth-and-a-half? Seventeenth? I don’t know anymore) draft of Bound. Not every page gets this many notes, but I think it gives a pretty good idea of how I usually struggle through revisions. That is, with a lack of focus, a lot of questions, some music, a few notebooks (and a pirate hook, apparently) and a whole lot of doodling in the margins. Don’t bother trying to blow it up to see what I’m changing, it doesn’t matter. The point is, DEAR LORD THE RED PEN.


Ugh. The wases. The missteps. The questions that could have been better answered elsewhere, the too-much-backstory, the could-I-cut-this. *sobs*

So here’s the question: how do you do it? Do you print out your work and mark it up like a high school teacher (with significantly more funky flowers and birds, in my case), or do you revise electronically? Are you still changing this much after numerous drafts, or do your stories come out pretty much the way you wanted them to in early drafts, and you’re just changing a phrase here and there? Do you prefer to doodle spiderwebs, cats, car chases or perhaps sharks on your work? What’s your process?

The Writer’s Garden

Confession: I have a brown thumb. I admire people who can make plants grow and thrive, who have an instinct for nurturing them and whose gardens burst with blooms and edible bounty. I’m not one of those people. I feel guilty buying plants or starting seeds, because it seems unfair to them when they could have a fighting chance with someone else.

But this… this is MY YEAR!

Maybe. The tulips we planted in the fall are pushing out of the ground (much to my surprise). The pansies in the front garden have somehow managed to keep their blooms all winter, which is both amazing and somehow disturbing in a sci-fi kind of way.

And we’re working on a vegetable garden.

Not a fancy one, of course. Easy things like beans and zucchini, and the kids wanted to try pumpkins and corn and carrots. I’ve got salad mix started, because why not? It’ll work or it won’t, and we’re having fun along the way. It’s actually going well so far. The plants we chose to start indoors (because the seed packets said to) have done well in their brief lives, and last week Captain America helped me move the seedlings from their wee soil pellets to roomier accomodations.

Such a versatile hero!

Such a versatile hero!

So there we were with our tiny jungle of seedlings that we’d started as instructed: 2 or 3 seeds in each pellet. Oh, the bounty!

Ain't that purdy?

Ain’t that purdy?

Now, on to the pots! One problem. It said to keep only the strongest seedling in each pellet.

WHAT? The injustice of it had me fuming. How unfair! Why shouldn’t the smaller seedlings have a chance to live and grow, to enjoy the fresh air and the sunshine, to take their chances in the “will the cats decide that this garden is a litter box” lottery? Yes, I like a good underdog story, and the smaller seedlings were just sitting there like wee green Mighty Ducks, begging for me to be their Emilio Estevez.


I’m not unreasonable. The non-starters went, as did the ones that couldn’t be bothered to lift their lazy heads out of the dirt until the previous day. But a strong-looking plant that just happened to be smaller than its soil-mate? Up yours, Jiffy Pots, they get to grow on, too.


They look less impressive all spaced out, don’t they?

You may be wondering why I’m rambling on about these plants when Tuesday posts are usually reserved for writing. Well, here you go:

I’m allowed to do this with plants. We’re in no danger of running out of garden space; if the smaller seedlings don’t yield anything, we’ve lost nothing but a cheap paper pot.  The same can’t be said for many aspects of stories. When it comes down to the edits, of course the weeds have to go: the passive phrases and “was” clusters, the “how the heck did present tense sneak in there?” moments,  the unnecessary adverbs, the excessive shrugging. It’s tedious, but fairly painless. But the weak seedlings have to go, too.

Sometimes it’s not so hard. That subplot that has nothing to do with anything and never went anywhere? Sure, that can go, it’s just dragging everything down. That cameo by the main character’s boss, who’s never going to show up again*? Cut. Wasn’t attached to her, anyway. A scene walking in the woods with the guy who’s not going to be around for long? Eh, there was important information there, but things will be tighter if it’s worked in elsewhere, and he’s had his moment (and he’ll have more in the future, so I don’t feel at all sorry for him).

But that’s never enough.

Next we come to the bits that start to hurt. A touching scene between the main character and a sibling that tells us so much about that character and her family and works in a good amount of worldbuilding, but that doesn’t really move the story forward? That hurts. Re-working things so that this person never shows up in-story and is only referred to when necessary? Also kind of ouch (and cutting her obnoxious, loud kid actually hurt a lot more; I found that situation amusing).

And never mind characters and scenes; what about entire concepts that have been part of your world since you started farting around with it way back when… what happens when they’re important, but are taking up too much page space when you explain them? If they can’t be cut, maybe they can be pushed to the background until they’re needed…

That one bled a little, but it keeps the first 5 chapters flowing more smoothly and quickly.

And that’s the whole point, isn’t it? It would be amazing if we had unlimited “garden space” in our stories, room for all of our beloved characters, story elements, scenes and subplots to live and grow, even when they’re not adding anything productive to the work.

Well, there is a place for them. But it’s  not in the stories we expect the general public to enjoy.

If our work is going to bear fruit, we have to make tough decisions, identify the weak elements, and do what it takes to make the end result focused, readable, interesting, and well-paced. Pull the weeds, toss the weak sprouts, prune the dead branches.

Do we always succeed? I haven’t read many perfect books, have you? But we do our best, no matter how it hurts, because our garderns– er, stories– deserve no less.

Let’s have it in the comments: when’s the last time you cut something that really hurt? Have you ever felt like you took too much? Any great success stories? And what are you growing in your garden this year?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an underdog team of zucchini seedlings to coach and lead to a hockey championship.**

*very early draft, don’t judge me.

**Metaphors may not be my strong suit…

Cats Are the Worst Editors

“I’ve looked over your most recent revisions, and I just have one question: What the hell is wrong with you? Honestly.”

WIPpet Wednesday the 27th, in Which Chapter 1 Kicks My Ass

So, the twenty-seventh, is it? If chapter 20 would have been too spoiler-loaded, you can imagine why I won’t be sharing anything from chapter 27 today. Boo. I like that one.

But Chapter 1 has, quite frankly, been kicking my ass lately. I’ve laid awake at night for hours, trying to figure out how to properly introduce Rowan. Aren already got his creepy little moment in the prologue (yes, I’ve decided, it’s staying in the story), so chapter one has to pick up from there. Different character, different mood (though not as different as she’d probably like to think), different voice. Going from magic and bad-guy-ness to a far more mundane place and a girl who thinks the only thing unusual about her is the fact that she doesn’t want the perfect life that’s coming to her.

Pfft. Teenagers.

I loved the previous version of this scene, but it lacked excitement, and we all know that stories aren’t allowed a slow build these days. No, I’m not bitter. And this does bring a major plot point to our attention in a much more interesting way. It’s just these first paragraphs that sit there and laugh at me.

Stupid words.

So here’s where we are now, a WIP in the truest sense of the term, though I’m happier with this now than I’ve been in a long time. It’s an unusual start, maybe, but I like it. This picks up right after the prologue ends; I guess that’s all you need to know.

27 lines (according to Scrivener) for the 27th. Enjoy.

(Chapter 1- Rowan)

Another day done.

Another shift at the library, with the smells of the old paper and new ink, with adventure and romance and tragedy. Another volume of fairy tales sneaked out of the restricted section and hidden deep in my bag; another morning of pretending not to listen to Mr Woorswith reminiscing to his cronies about the wonders and horrors he’d seen when he traveled past the mountains when he was a young man.

Another day of pain.

Another day closer to the next phase of my life, to everything I was supposed to be longing for, to the part where my odd little life would finally begin to line up with what it was supposed to be from the start. Still no closer to figuring out why all of those good things sometimes felt so wrong, though.

My boots scuffed over the cobblestoned street, kicking up dust that swirled in the breeze and settled into a thin layer on the bottom of my skirt. My mother would tell me to lift my face to the world, to take pride in myself, and for goodness sakes just smile a little, but she wasn’t there to bother me, and I could hardly be bothered on my own. A bright ray of sunlight broke through the clouds overhead, and the dull headache that had been building all day pressed harder at the back of my skull. The world swam in front of me, and I paused to take a few deep breaths. You’ll be home soon, I told myself. Just get home, make some heartleaf tea, go to bed, everything will be fine. This thing hasn’t killed you yet, it’s not going to happen now.

From somewhere far away, a clattering noise interrupted my thoughts. Hoofbeats on stone, faster than they should have been. I opened my eyes, but the pain made everything slow; by the time I lifted my head and struggled to understand exactly what was happening, they were almost on top of me: four horses with uniformed riders wearing the king’s colours, armed but not armored. What’s the rush, boys? One of them yelled; I tried to step back against the building behind me, but something wasn’t working. Nothing connected. I closed my eyes again.

A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me away, spinning me out of the road as the horses thundered past. It hurt my shoulder, but that hardly mattered when the pain in my head was screaming louder than it had been before, the dull ache roaring to life, growing sharper when my head snapped sideways on my neck. I pressed my hands to my eyes and leaned into my rescuer. My brother. Who else would have bothered?

When I opened my eyes a few seconds later, Ashe was looking down the street where the riders had disappeared. “Didn’t even look back,” he observed.

“Must have been late for something.” I sat on one of the crates that were stacked outside of the grocer’s store.

“Too late to do any good, that’s for sure.” Ashe scratched at the arm of his blue messenger’s uniform and bent to pick up the papers he’d dropped when he pulled me out of the road. “You OK, Ro?”

“Same old thing,” I said, and tried to smile. “Just need to get home to bed.”

He frowned. “I’ll walk with you.” I started to object, but he held up a hand to stop me. “No, I know. It’s not my fault you’re incompetent, but I’d feel sort of bad about it if something happened to you. I just have to post these on the way.” I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed, then offered me a hand to help me up. “Come on.”

Hmm, where are those soldiers going? Nothing a nice girl would want to get mixed up in, that’s for sure.

As always, thanks to KL Schwengel for hosting WIPpet Wednesday. If you want to join in, or to check out everyone else’s offerings for this very awkward date, head over here for the links.

Thanks for reading!

And hey, look what I found at Walmart. 🙂


I don’t mind most aspects of the editing process, but there is one thing that really bothers me: when I’m editing my own work, I become extremely critical of other people’s.

In a way, it makes no sense. These are published books I’m finding fault with, so obviously they’re doing a lot of things right. Most things, even. Who am I to criticize? Me, way down here. Hi.

And I’m not- at least, not where anyone else can see. It’s not that I’m huffing and puffing and throwing books against the wall (usually), then taking to the internet to rail about how I could do so much better. Not at all. I have so much respect for the work that people put into their stories, that their editors do to make it the best it can be, yadda yadda.

All I’m saying is that when I’m editing my own work, it makes it very difficult for me to enjoy other people’s, because I’m subconsciously analyzing everything, evaluating it the way I’m evaluating my own work, spotting the things I would consider fixing if the story was mine, things that work and things that don’t. And it’s really, really annoying.

Right now I’m reading a book I got for Christmas, and of course I’m not going to mention the name of it here. It’s an interesting book- fresh take on the vampire thing, I think (I’m only a few chapters in), where they’re monsters and not love interests. Yay! I should be enjoying it, but it’s hard when my brain won’t just shut up about “uh-huh, jumping right into the main conflict,” or “yep, slipping backstory in there, very smooth.” And that’s when things are going well. I got to page 53-ish and found out (because it’s actually stated outright) that one character is on a mission to save the world, and another is THE KEY TO SAVING ALL MANKIND OMG, and I wanted to put it down and read something else.*

Are those bad things in and of themselves? I guess not. It certainly sets the stakes high, doesn’t it? Now it should matter to me whether this guy succeeds at winning over the special girl who doesn’t know she’s special. But I was disappointed, and that’s probably not fair. Is the “savior of the world” thing overdone? Yes, but that’s no reason to think that a new take on it can’t be exciting. But all I can think is “well THAT was clumsy… Try to save the world, please, but don’t tell me you’re doing it!” If it was a library book, I’d probably have quit. Again, unfair, but I’ve done it before.

And the little things, like a character frequently saying things like “I felt the wind blow my hair” rather than just telling me that the wind blew her hair (obviously you feel it…). Things that I can see people picking on if I wrote it, and that I therefore try to be careful not to overuse. But when I’m reading, I’d like to be able to not notice that, to just see the wind blowing her hair (and/or her feeling it).

At least this one’s not overdoing the adverbs. I recently put another (very popular) book down because the writing style bothered me, and that was a big part of it. Effective when used sparingly, irritating when every time he grinned it was wolfishly, and every time she hurried is was quickly.

I read so much about what works and what doesn’t in writing and why that I pick it out in everything I read. My life has become a high school English class, and it’s driving me insane.

I wish I could let it go when I step away from the computer. I know my work is as bad as or worse than anything these people do, and that I’m probably doing a lot of the things I’m so critical of. My writing certainly has flaws that I’m blind to. I don’t mean to be critical. I just want my brain to shut up and enjoy the effing story already.

Does anyone else have this problem, or are you able to compartmentalize, to leave work at the office, so to speak?

*I’m still hoping that it turns out he’s wrong, that she can’t save the world through her powers and they’ll have to struggle together to find another way. How fun would that be?!

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Avid Reviews

Fantasy and Sci-Fi Reviews For Both Self-Published and Traditionally Published Books

Author Jen Wylie's Blog

Welcome to my mind... Blog for fantasty author Jen Wylie