#MFRWauthor HOW TO: Get The Most Out of Conferences @AliceOrrBooks

A Whole Lot of Being Nice
Question: What does it take to get the most out of a writers’ conference?
Answer: "What it takes is a whole lot of being nice."

I put that response in quotation marks because I heard those words from another author. Sabrina Jeffries giving an uplifting talk at – you guessed it – a writers’ conference.

Summer is conference time. Small retreats and huge gatherings punctuate June through August for many writers. Civilians – as in non-writers – are off to the shore or the mountains or the campsite. But we pack up our notebooks and our hopes and head for a convocation of scribes.

What most of us are hoping is that we’ll find the key to getting our work published or better published. I say that isn’t the most important thing we find at these gatherings whether they take place in a grand hotel or a modest cabin or anywhere in between.

The most important thing we find is each other. We make the most of a writers’ conference by maximizing that discovery. We writers are our own most natural allies. Why is that so true? It’s true because we understand one another from the inside.

We understand what it’s like to labor in the formidable publishing marketplace. We understand what it’s like to struggle toward getting our work published and keeping it published. We know how it feels to suffer rejection and disappointment. We also know how it feels to experience the joy of our accomplishments whether they’re large or small.

We also understand we need support in these hard struggles we’ve chosen. We understand that because we need the same support ourselves. With this understanding comes an obligation. Our obligation is to reach out and give what is needed – a little bit of niceness to our writer friends.

All it takes is a few words in a few sentences of encouragement and kindness. Over the several days or even the single weekend of a conference these few words at a time will add up to what Sabrina inspires us toward – a whole lot of being nice.

Our need to succeed tells us to be nice to the max to the agents and editors and instructors we line up for to pitch our projects or sit in front of taking notes. We long to recruit them to become our allies on the inside of the publishing world. In the meantime let’s not forget the allies we already have on the inside of the writing world.

Give what you can. A word of advice or a commiserating ear or a shared laugh – and definitely a hug. As you scurry from class to class or from appointment to appointment take a moment to touch another writer ally with your own whole lot of being nice. I guarantee you will experience a whole lot of feeling good in return.

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Contributed by Alice Orr
Alice Orr loves to write. Especially Romantic Suspense novels of danger and romance. She's well known as a workshop leader, book editor and former literary agent. Now she lives her dream of writing full-time, especially romantic suspense. Alice has published thirteen novels, two novellas and a memoir so far. About her novels, Amazon says, "Alice Orr turns up the heat."

Alice has two grown children and two perfect grandchildren and lives with her husband Jonathan in New York City.                                                              website  |  blog  |  facebook

A YEAR OF SUMMER SHADOWS

Riverton Romantic Suspense Series Book 2
Mainstream Romantic Suspense
Alice Orr Books

Hailey Lambert loves the North Country though she doesn't love some of her North Country memories. Now her estranged friend Julia is accused of murder and Hailey has no choice. She's got to help.

Mark Kalli has wanted Kalli in his bed forever but she won't give him the time of day. Now she's mixed up in a killing and Mark has no choice but to get involved - whether Hailey wants him around or not.

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"This book is the perfect combination of suspense, mystery and romance and will have you turning the pages unable to put the book down." 5 Stars, Amazon Reviewer

Where Do Book Ideas Come From? ASK #MFRWauthor @VellaCMunn

What became the Seasons Heartbeat series started the fall afternoon a dear friend and I were watching a fierce storm head our way. Fueled by a glass of wine and the wind whipping the evergreens while the sky became dark purple, I started thinking about how much I'm impacted by the wilderness. In only a few minutes I had the series' basic concept in mind. I wrote four books with each one taking place during a different season plus a novella that covers a single day. Hopefully I've created flawed and complex people who allow their peaceful mountain surroundings to free them from their pasts and open them to love. 

Seasons Heartbeat:Spring
by Vella Munn
Contemporary Romance
Seasons Heartbeat Series

Alisha Hearne must decide whether to sell the family's mountain cabin or stay and tackle the necessary repairs and face painful memories. The nearby resort represents one thing to Nate Quaid—where he earns a living. Nothing means more to him than freedom and forgetting his past.

Despite their reservations, loneliness and need bring them together but are they capable of revealing their deepest secrets and exposing their vulnerabilities?

Do they dare risk falling in love?

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REVIEWS
Amazon: Seasons Heartbeat: Spring is romance at its best. Ms Munn's vivid descriptions of Lake Serene and her family's mountain cabin made me feel as though I was right there in that beautiful setting.
Amazon: The author's love of nature comes through so clearly in this book that I can almost imagine myself at Lake Serene. She has made the environment another character in the story and the book is richer for it.

EXCERPT
Taking her cue from the older man who’d already started toward the shore, she trailed behind him. Doc was right. The crazy boat driver appeared to be checking out the fifty-some small docks belonging to private cabin owners. At least he’d slowed to trolling speed. At the rate he was going, he’d reach her dock in a couple of minutes so she planted herself as close to the listing structure as she dared. She didn’t care what he thought of her dock. She just wanted to give him a piece of her mind about his disregard for what this high mountain lake stood for. As she waited, she studied Mount Steens across the lake. The top was still buried under snow and thus intimidating to her. By late summer the sharp edges would show. She'd never climbed it, but when she was growing up, she used to tell herself she could tackle it no problem. She just wasn't sure whether she'd have to carry a sleeping bag and plan on having to stay the night.
Night alone near the top of the area's most imposing mountain. Away from all responsibility.
The motor’s high growl triggered something inside that she didn’t want to examine. She’d been under a lot of tension lately and didn’t need this idiot adding to it. She wanted him gone and the quiet back. Not just quiet. She needed to smell what was left of the snow, the water, pine and dirt. To be renewed.
Now that he was close, she realized this wasn’t one of the nearly-derelict boats she remembered the resort renting out. At least twenty-feet long, it had both a trolling motor and an outboard she figured was least ninety horsepower. Judging by the shiny sides and immaculate pedestal fishing seat, the craft was new. Envy nibbled at her. Being in control of the craft would be a ball.
As it eased around partly-submerged trees and closed in on her dock, she forced herself to stop imagining she was putting it through its paces and concentrated on the man with his hand on the steering wheel. It was hard to be certain, but she guessed him to be in his early thirties. The wind had been having its way with his longish dark brown hair while his slightly canted nose and cheeks were wind-chapped. He had a square jaw, deep-set eyes shielded by shaggy brows, and a serious slant to his mouth that made her wonder if there might be more to him than a hell-raiser after all.
Over a blue T-shirt sporting a motorcycle logo he wore an unsnapped grey windbreaker that speed had pushed away from a chest made for physical labor. This was no indulged teenager, not this man with his broad shoulders and big, strong, tanned hands. Because he was sitting low in the boat, she couldn’t see his lower half.
“Where’s your life vest?” Doc called out.
When the man didn’t immediately respond, she wondered if he was debating answering. If he gave Doc a hard time, she’d give him a piece of her mind.
He shifted into neutral and indicated behind him.
“Crazy as you’ve been driving, I’m surprised you thought of safety,” Doc grumbled. “There’s a speed limit here.”
The man shrugged. She wanted to examine his expression, but now that the wind was in charge, the boat had started to turn away from the shore. It swayed with the waves it had created. She imagined him a drifter, a lost soul without any idea how to put his life on course. He spent one week here, another week there, never planning beyond following impulse.
Then he put the motor back into gear and came alongside the dock, making her decide he had some sense of direction after all. He stood and reached out so he could grab the one remaining cleat. He wrapped a tie rope around it and sat back down.
“This yours?” he asked Doc, indicating the listing dock.
“No,” she said. “It’s mine.”
“Needs work.”
The understatement almost made her laugh. “Thanks for pointing that out. Winter’s been a little rough on it.”
He’d turned his attention to her while she was talking, surely time enough for her to get used to the intensity in his eyes. There was something arresting about him, something on the wild side perhaps. She half expected him to jump out of the boat and take off at a dead run because that was his way of dealing with the energy boiling inside him. This wasn’t a man for sitting and contemplating his navel. Just sitting inside a motionless boat was testing the limits of his self-restraint.

ABOUT Vella Munn
Vella Munn has been writing ever since she created a comic book with a horse as the hero. She has had over 60 books published and can't imagine doing anything else. She lives in rural Oregon with her family and two rescue dogs.

http://www.vella-munn.com/
https://www.facebook.com/vella.munn
http://www.amazon.com/Vella-Munn/e/B0047Q6IB8/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1433111489&sr=1-2-ent

#MSWL And OTHER HELPFUL LINKS For #MFRWauthors @KimKasch

SOME GREAT LINKS For WRITERS...

QUERY TRACKER: https://querytracker.net/
A great site where you can look up agents, the genres they represent, the time it takes for them to respond, and even track your queries.

AGENT QUERY: http://agentquery.com/
Another great site like Query Tracker.

AGENTS’ MANUSCRIPT WISH LISTS: http://mswishlist.com/
This is a place to go to see what agents and editors are looking for.

TWITTER: #MSWL: MSWL twitter link
The Twitter link to ""real time"" hints, tips and wishlists of agents and editors - BUT PLEASE do not pitch your story on this twitter site.

PREDITORS AND EDITORS: http://pred-ed.com/pubagent.ht
A place to check and see if an agent or editor is reputable.

MANUSCRIPT WORD COUNTS: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/
The perfect place to see if your word count is in the right ballpark.

WRITER’S DIGEST GUIDE TO LITERARY AGENTS: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/
A treasure trove of information about agents and more...

PUBTIPS ON TWITTER: https://twitter.com/search?q=%23PUBTIPS&src=typd
Tips about publishing.

TWITTER COMMUNITY WRITER LINK: https://twitter.com/amwriting
An on-line community where you can share the trials and tribulations of being a writer, and get support, encouragement and inspiration.

SCBWI: http://www.scbwi.org/
The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators website

BRENDA DRAKE: http://www.brenda-drake.com/
A fount of information with contests that help you get published, find an agent or simply help you perfect your craft.

CONTRIBUTED BY MFRW Author Kimbra Kasch
Growing up in a family with 9 kids and 1 t.v., I spent my days reading and, later, writing. I love books. . .maybe because I never got to pick what shows we watched. I’d run home after school to catch the last fifteen minutes of Dark Shadows...

I still love to run especially in Halloween-themed runs - where people wear costumes, while running. It's a lot of fun...I know those two words don't go together: fun...and...run. But it is and I guess Dark Shadows influenced me more than I thought because Stephen King’s Salem's Lot is my favorite book.

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Kim-Kasch/e/B00ZOAUKMO
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KimKaschAuthor?ref=hl
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kimkasch/
website: http://kimbrakasch.com/index.html
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/15278287-kimbra-kasch

Demon's Ink

Young Adult Paranormal
Midnight Frost Books

Demonic tattoo artist comes to town in DEMON’S INK.

Drake and Bartos come to the Pacific Northwest, where they open yet another tattoo shop but Bartos has no trouble dealing with the competition because there’s nothing normal about his art. And he’s stealing more than clients from the local skin artists. He's stealing their souls.

Customers fall in love with Bartos Slinderman’s tats but end up paying the ultimate price for their purchase because unlike Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray, they can’t walk away from this art and it’s beautiful until the artwork takes on a life of its own...

DEMON’S INK: Art that’s more than you bargained for... Drake has to choose between love or his soul.

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Excerpt (DRAKE)

Expectations can ruin everything. Like thinking my senior year was going to be something special. What a set up that was.
I should have known better than to get my hopes up.
Ever.
I’d never been lucky. No one in my family was. I was six when I’d heard grandpa say, “We come from a long line of losers.” He was talking to my Dad. I don’t even know about what. But, now, I know I should have listened.
Dad had gone to prison, leaving Mom and me worse than ever. And we’d never been good but, at least while he’d hung around, she acted like things were okay. Now she wasn’t even pretending. Really, it was worse than that; she wasn’t even getting up off the couch any more.
I’d come home from school to find her passed out. The first couple times it freaked me out. Seeing her face-planted in the front room, not knowing if she was dead or alive, I didn’t want to find her like that, to have to turn her over to check if she was still breathing but I did. . . and I had no idea if she was high or drunk. I didn’t even care because what difference did it make? She was out of it and that was all that mattered.
So, after Dad went to jail, I was completely alone until Bartos made me a deal I couldn’t refuse but that was later.
For weeks, I’d come home after class and make a sandwich—if there was bread—otherwise it was a bowl of cereal for breakfast and dinner, sometimes I’d eat it dry because the milk had gone bad.
I knew I was going to have to get a job if I wanted to survive and I’d started looking around but that was right before everything changed.
It was late one Thursday evening. I still remember because I was thinking, “Only one more day…” I just didn’t know how right I was.
I don’t know what woke me up that night. Maybe it was the smell, the heat, the sound of my Mom screaming. I really don’t know. But I opened my eyes to the thick burning haze of a room filled with smoke.
I’d gone down into the basement that night and fallen asleep.
Looking around, I already knew there were no windows. I was trapped.