Author Archives: Frankie Ash

So What’s The Fuss About Scrivener?

I’ve been debating on using this software, until I came across this post on Fantasy Faction. I’m going to give it a try. I’ll report back if there are survivors.

Review of Scrivener, the word processor for writers.

via So What’s The Fuss About Scrivener?.

Blog Changes (sounds like an interesting read right?)

Here’s the deal pickle; this blog will be undergoing some changes.

Not this kind of change.

Some really cool things are happening in my writer world and because of that I am directing all power from my brain cells to my work. Because of this…

I will be converting my blog to the website for my works.  There will still be a Blog tab, but I will be using it for write-ups on events and such. But….

If you truly dig what I do and want to keep riding the Frankie Ash train, hook up with me on Twitter and Instagram (author_frankie_ash). Also….

I am working on a newsletter that I would like to send out on the regular, so when I get that ready to go, I will post here to direct you guys where you can go to email sign up. Ya dig?

While I have your attention (and if I don’t…HELLOOOO!!!) I would like to tell you guys to look out for the August issue of Sci Fi magazine. ERAMANE will be in it!!!!! And, if you happen to live in/around/other prepositions that work the Winchester, VA area, the lovely folks at Winchester Book Gallery are hosting a signing for ERAMANE August 16th at 3p.m.

If you don’t preposition that area, look for future announcements on my events in the D.C. area.

Ok:)

 

 

Angry Robot Books discontinues Strange Chemistry and Exhibit A Imprints.

Image from Strange Chemistry Site

Image from Strange Chemistry Site

Upon hearing the reports this morning of Angry Robot Books discontinuing two imprints: Strange Chemistry and Exhibit A Books, I immediately went to the Twitter feed that surrounded this news. Hundreds of authors/readers/industry professionals are tweeting their thoughts/condolences and it shows how extremely personal this feels to all us authors/bookish folks, (I’ll stop forward-slashing everything now).

My first reaction was to Tweet my 140 character “sorry” but then it occurred to me that I have a bigger voice than 140 characters. I have a fan base (small, but powerful…so I like to think) and it’s my obligation to pull my efforts in another way. I can actually support these authors.

Frankie, what are you getting at? Are you a magician? All this holding out has got me on my seat’s edge. All thoughts I’d like to think ya’ll are thinking.

So, here are my thoughts. The purpose of this blog is 1) to inform those who do not know of this new. Read it here. And 2) to list the authors affected by this and their works so yous (yeah yous) can go show your support (actions are louder than words).

Go forth yee readers\authors\industry professionals (I said I wouldn’t forward slash gah) buy a book! Post it with your lovely face or cat or dog or ferret or ant collection. Show off your fabulous Tropical Smoothie alongside your newly purchased book! I’ll have mine up as soon as I get out today to get one. And don’t forget to hash-tag them! Or use this one #happytosupport. Eh? I’m open to suggestions on that one.

And, if you are unable to dish out the dollahs, support these authors by other means. Give them a shout out on Twitter, write a blog post on one or more of your favorite authors from these imprints,  vlog yourself, or your dog, or cat, or ferret, or ant collection? rolling around in copies you might already own…spread the word man!

I HAVE ARRIVED…safely back home.

Me at the IBPA booth, and that's one of my team members behind me.

Me at the IBPA booth, and that’s one of my team members behind me. He thinks he’s funny. We think he is too:)

I’m back from my trip to the Book Expo America in New York. I had so much fun…once I stopped freaking out.
Here’s my little story…
I went with a team…my peeps, and we represented ERAMANE as best we could, minus the banter we flung at passers-by (I think at one point I said all vowels to one lady.)

I think I'm funny too.

I think I’m funny too.

When we arrive at the Javits Center, I was immediately congratulated by the lady who checked my in and gave me and my team out badges (thanks nice lady) and that set the tone for the rest of my experience.
I was extremely nervous, because here I am, little ol’ me, among (by that I mean off in a corner, nowhere near them) some of the greatest writers of today. Yet, from the moment I walked through the doors I was treated like “the Queen,” as Margaery Tyrell says in Game of Thrones.
Once I found the IBPA booth, I was immediately greeted by Terry Nathan and Molly ??? (I’m sure she has a last name, but in this post it’s a series of question marks.) They took me in and fed me, no better way to put it really. Thanks guys!
The signing was a hit; I ran out of 30 books in under 15 minutes (who knew?) and had to hand out rain-check forms to the ones who didn’t get their free signed copy.
All-in-all, though, despite that I ran out of books, ERAMANE was noticed. My sign caught the attention of anyone who walked by…and there were soooo many! I even heard people say, “Hey I saw that online.” And, “WTF???!!! Really? Awesome!” to myself of course.
Oh, and my husband lost his [soul]. Yup the bottom of his shoe came right off just before we reached the Javits Center. Funny story…I’m going tell it.
Okay, so we were walking from the ferry terminal to the BEA and we all heard this duck-ish noise. My husband, holding a box of ERAMANE books, looks down and sees that his sole is flappin’. Then (and you might not believe this) we look across the street and a truck opens it back door and guess what’s inside??? Yes!!! Fricking black shoes just like the ones my hubs is wearing. Boxes and boxes. They just start unloading them onto a table and putting yellow signs up with prices. It was crazy. But no, we didn’t buy any…he had another pair in the car back at the hotel, so I just told him to walk quietly, “Don’t draw attention to it!” His shoe made it back to the car at the end of the day…then to the trash:(
Well if you made it this far, I’m happy that you cared enough to learn about my experience at my first ever book expo. The way things are going, it looks like I will be attending many more. I belong in the book world; I plan on staying here.

 

Blog hopping…Why and how I write what I write

once

So, Lindsay Cummings (author chic who wrote a book I can’t wait to read…The Murder Complex) unofficially called me (by me I mean everyone) out to write a post on their writing process. At first I was like, “I don’t wanna, cause my writing process is top secret and, well, I don’t want to have to flash that little red light from M.I.B I, II, and that other one in ALL.THE.EYES. But then I figured, why not, I haven’t used it in a while.
So, hopping on Mrs. Lindsay’s Divulge your most secrety secrets train, I shall reveal.
1. What am I working on?- At this very moment I have a doc opened and minimized, and it’s labeled “My Sci-Fi WIP”. Most of you know a little about it because I have posted some peak-a-boos on my blog. But it’s quite more than just a YA Sci-Fi book, as they all are right? Am I right? I’m right. But aside from that, my lips are sealed, like a…(you choose the visual metaphor) and as Forrest Gump says, “That’s all I have to say about that.”
2. How does my work differ from other’s of its genre?- Hmmm. It just does. It’s different because there isn’t a ton of young adult sci-fi out there. It’s different because of its plot and its characters and their motivations and the setting and the characters, and it’s a total left fielder for me. I believed (before I busted out this awesome monster) that I could only live and write in the realm of fantasy, because I love it so. But I’m also a huge sci-fi fan and exploring that side of my writing has opened me up to writing all kinds of different things…like my short story Serial Wanda. You member that post don’t you? Member?
3. Why do I write what I do?- Because I grew up watching movies like Labyrinth, The Dark Crystal, Legend, Star Wars…I mean…I just…I love it like I love my own blood. Yes, that sounds strange but think about it…think about your blood and how sad (and dead) you’d be if you didn’t have it anymore. See.
4. How does your writing process work?- It’s not really a process because it’s not a rhythmic thing I do.
In short, I write every day.
In long, my mornings are precious. The Earth is quiet and it gives me a chance to be still and let my creativity do its thang. It’s hard to write on my WIP every day because there are also other things that I have to write: blog posts, Twitter snarkies (insert your own definition…it’s more funner that way), Facebook…all the social media what-nots. But at least four days of the week are devoted to my project and on a good day (three or more cups of coffee) I can knock out 3500-4000 words, on a regular day (one cup), 1500-2000. But, there are those special moments when you HAVE to write. Those moments when you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t do anything else but drag yourself to the computer and work. I love those. And on those occasions I have written some of my best content.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

BEA Signing Update!

Courtesy of BEA website

Courtesy of BEA website

Helloooo! I just received the time for my signing event at the Book Expo America. I will be at the Independent Book Publishers Association booth from 10-11 a.m. on Friday, May 30th.  All Sharpie donations are greatly appreciated… uh har.

A short of my short…story.

letter K

I told you guys I will be releasing a short story soon, and that’s still in the works. But until I have it all formatted and proper like for your viewing pleasure, here is a sample. It’s a dark comedy…the first I’ve written in the genre. I hope that I’ve at least done it with some tact.

Serial Wanda

Part 1:1
Short, thin, cute? Yeah cute. Wanda judges herself while looking at her naked reflection. Some guy might have really enjoyed this, she continues, turning sideways to view her backside. Wanda stands there, half twisted, admiring her round butt, and wonders how painful an overdose death might be. Almost drowning is horrible…could an overdose be any worse?
The afternoon sun penetrates her sheer draperies and castes a glow onto her body. She marvels at the idea of her skin bursting into flames, as if she were a vampire; if it could only be that simple. Wanda often thought how wonderful it would be to have a guaranteed way of dying, like a steak through the heart or a holy water bath. But Wanda isn’t a vampire, and she doesn’t know of any guys that twinkle in the sun. She sighs.
A noise from the hallway breaks her blazing fantasy. It’s the familiar sound of a new tenant moving in. Wanda runs naked to the door and peers through the peephole. She sees a mattress, brand new, still in plastic, going in to apartment K. Next, a black leather couch, a large carpet, computer equipment boxes, and a microwave, all still in new packaging. Did this person just win the lottery or did they rob a bank? She becomes very eager to get a look at her new neighbor, and the longer she watches the more her face melds into the peephole. But all Wanda sees are logos on the movers gray T-Shirts: Paradise Movers.
In a little less than an half hour, the movers stop coming up to the second floor. Wanda, realizing she is still undressed, walks to the bathroom to grab her jeans from the floor. She shoves her legs in and rushes to her bedroom to grab the T-Shirt thrown at the foot of her bed. Dressed, she goes to the window and looks down to the parking lot. The moving truck is pulling away. That can’t be everything. Where is the tenant? What little that was carried in to apartment K was brand new, and after thinking about it for a second Wanda realized that the new tenant would only have a bed, computer, IKEA desk, microwave, coffee pot, and a brown box marked BATHROOM.
It was dark out now, and Wanda was way past spying on the new tenant. Her dinner was almost ready. Cooking wasn’t Wanda’s thing, but she could make a decent batch of spaghetti. She scooped out a large portion and plopped it on her only plate; she broke the rest from the garage-sale set she bought a year ago for a buck.
She ate in silence, no one called to interrupt her lonely dinner. No one ever called Wanda. Her co-workers stopped trying to include her months ago; they were fed up with her constant “not tonight,” or “thanks but no thanks,” or “ I have a lot of work to do at home.” They finally gave up, and now Wanda doesn’t even get the formal invite to the yearly Christmas party, a stamped invitation that used to arrive around December 15th.
She perks at the sound of a thud from across the hall, Is it the new tenant? and carries her plate to the counter, quietly setting it down. Tip-toeing up to the peephole, not blinking, her attention on the new neighbor rivals the focus of a hungry predator ready to lunge at its prey. He’s attractive, in that sexy-nerdy way that Wanda likes so much. His hair is dark and short on the sides, his clothes simple and his snug shirt reveals that he takes care of himself, not too buff, not too scrawny. Like Andrew Garfield! Wanda is excited, she just watched The Amazing Spiderman last night, for the millionth time. The handsome neighbor reaches into his front left pocket and pulls out a single key, no keychain. He holds it with a delicate grip and slowly slides it into the keyhole. She pushes herself away from the door in disgust. Stalk much Wanda? Again she is back at the peephole…eye pressed as close as it could be. She watches him open the door, bend down and pick up the BATHROOM box, and walk in,  pushing the door closed with his foot, Wanda’s trance broken by the brushed nickel K in the center of his apartment door.