Hey all, I'm announcing a bit of a giveaway! You have really embraced the new book in the Spellbound series, Everspell, and it seems you loved getting the other new one, Teeth and Talons, A Horror Anthology, for FREE. So, in an effort to keep the great momentum going.......I have a great offer for you: Anyone who buys both Spellbound and Everspell and sends me their proof....I will gift them with a copy of Ghostly! Get it while its hot , or until I remember to change the deal! Remember: Buy two, get one free! For the unbelievably reasonable price of $5.98 you'll get all three!
You may know Spellbound and even Everspell, but Ghostly, which is my second book, is a pretty good read too. Shorter than most novels, I have been told that this YA paranormal about a ghost hottie, a young teen girl and her super-close friends, reads quickly and is a fun, kicky book. Check out some of the review, if you are still on the fence, on the Ghostly by Samantha Combs fan page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ghostly-by-Samantha-Combs/144239729004823
You'll see more than 10 reviews if you need convincing. I hope you don't.
Please enjoy ANY book of mine you read. And thanks for being a fan!
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Being a "Good Wife" in 1950 and Now
So Michelle Duggar, of "19 Kids and Counting" fame, and also being famous for being pregnant, like well over half her life, has been spotted passing out pamphlets expounding on the secrets to having a successful, long-lasting marriage. I read barely a third of the article and I KNEW I would be writing a post on it. I'm just suffregetty that way, I guess.
So three of the little nuggets of wisdom are this: 1) never bring up your husband's failures, as it could crush his spirit, 2) always gaze adoringly at your husband when he speaks, and 3) always regard your husband as your leader. It reminded me of an article I read about"Being a Good Wife" from Good Housekeeping..... from 1955.
So I have a few, um, tweaks to the original. Allow me:
1. Have dinner ready when he gets home. Plan ahead, even the night before, for a delicious meal. It's part of the warm welcome home.
2012 rule: Did he break his arms somehow? Is he not just as capable of dialing the pizza place?
2. Prepare for his arrival. Freshen your makeup, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He looks at a lot of weary-looking people all day.
2012 rule: Try not to wear the same comfy sweats more than five days in a row. Try not to start changing out of your work clothes in the driveway.
3. Clear away the clutter. Run a dust cloth over the table just before he arrives home.
2012 rules: Kick a path through the toys from the door to the fridge. That's his first stop anyway He's on his own from there.
4. Minimize all noise before he arrives home. Silence the washer, dryer and vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet.
2012 rules: Seriously? If you can hear yourself think, you're ahead of the game.
5. Listen to him. Remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
2012 rules: Last thing I want to do is hear a blow-by-blow of how his workmate blew chucks after eating at the roach coach. Tuning him out is not only necessary, it's critical for survival and sanity.
6. Your goal: make your home a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
2012 rules: Then NEVER HAVE CHILDREN!
7. Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
2012 rules: Then NEVER HAVE CHILDREN!
8. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in an easy chair. Have a drink ready for him.
2012 rules: Pick the Legos out of the sofa and the plastic Barbie shoes that stick to the backs of his legs. Shove the dog off the good end and direct him to where the sodas ALWAYS are. The drink is for you.
9. Don't ask questions about his actions or question his judgment. Remember, he is the master of the house.
2012 rules: On a good day, he doesn't even know what decisions I have made. What he doesn't know won't hurt him and eliminate the need to talk about it. He should know by now, ALL your decisions are for the betterment of the family. Question his judgment, my ass. He doesn't even know what plumber we use.
10. A good wife always knows her place.
2012 rules: A good husband knows his! Respect me, honor me, and share with me, and I'll be the best goddamn wife on the planet. Try it out, guys.
And as for Mrs. Duggar's rules?: Here's my answers to those.
So three of the little nuggets of wisdom are this: 1) never bring up your husband's failures, as it could crush his spirit, 2) always gaze adoringly at your husband when he speaks, and 3) always regard your husband as your leader. It reminded me of an article I read about"Being a Good Wife" from Good Housekeeping..... from 1955.
So I have a few, um, tweaks to the original. Allow me:
1. Have dinner ready when he gets home. Plan ahead, even the night before, for a delicious meal. It's part of the warm welcome home.
2012 rule: Did he break his arms somehow? Is he not just as capable of dialing the pizza place?
2. Prepare for his arrival. Freshen your makeup, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He looks at a lot of weary-looking people all day.
2012 rule: Try not to wear the same comfy sweats more than five days in a row. Try not to start changing out of your work clothes in the driveway.
3. Clear away the clutter. Run a dust cloth over the table just before he arrives home.
2012 rules: Kick a path through the toys from the door to the fridge. That's his first stop anyway He's on his own from there.
4. Minimize all noise before he arrives home. Silence the washer, dryer and vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet.
2012 rules: Seriously? If you can hear yourself think, you're ahead of the game.
5. Listen to him. Remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
2012 rules: Last thing I want to do is hear a blow-by-blow of how his workmate blew chucks after eating at the roach coach. Tuning him out is not only necessary, it's critical for survival and sanity.
6. Your goal: make your home a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
2012 rules: Then NEVER HAVE CHILDREN!
7. Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
2012 rules: Then NEVER HAVE CHILDREN!
8. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in an easy chair. Have a drink ready for him.
2012 rules: Pick the Legos out of the sofa and the plastic Barbie shoes that stick to the backs of his legs. Shove the dog off the good end and direct him to where the sodas ALWAYS are. The drink is for you.
9. Don't ask questions about his actions or question his judgment. Remember, he is the master of the house.
2012 rules: On a good day, he doesn't even know what decisions I have made. What he doesn't know won't hurt him and eliminate the need to talk about it. He should know by now, ALL your decisions are for the betterment of the family. Question his judgment, my ass. He doesn't even know what plumber we use.
10. A good wife always knows her place.
2012 rules: A good husband knows his! Respect me, honor me, and share with me, and I'll be the best goddamn wife on the planet. Try it out, guys.
And as for Mrs. Duggar's rules?: Here's my answers to those.
- If I never brought up my husband's failures, I'd never win an argument.
- Gaze adoringly? Yeah, I gaze alright. Mostly it's with this verbal embodiment of the look on my face: Are you kidding me??? Did I actually CHOOSE that ten years ago?
- Always regarding him as a leader? Yeah, he's the leader of a country of four and as such, is always open to attack from the flanks or veto on his position. Guess who holds absolute veto power? You got it.
If I forgot any, PLEASE feel free to add your own. I am always interested in what you all have to say!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Hey, Have You Met My Amazing Mummy?
February 17th is my Mum’s birthday. I wanted to celebrate her here, but in an
unusual way. What I decided is that the
things I value most from her is her wisdom and life experience. I have shared on this blog the piece of advice
from her I have almost made my mantra, to “Do the Next Thing on the List.” But she has given me so much guidance and
direction in my life, it seems almost unfair not to share it with you.
So, the following words of wisdom, in no particular
order, are from the indomitable Paulina Gilbert, my Mum.
1. Kill them with kindness; if they’re snarky and
you respond with sweetness, they’ll l
hear themselves and be ashamed
2.
Always apply moisturizer rubbing in toward the
nose, never out toward the ears. You’ll
avoid wrinkles longer
3. Fabric softener in with towels takes away their
absorbency
4.
There is nothing permanent in this world;
everything is temporary and can be changed
5.
Doctors don’t know everything; they’re human too
and medicine is most days a guessing game
6.
People will judge you by your appearance, fair
or not. Always dress appropriately for
the occasion
7. The state of your shoes will say more about you
than you ever will
8.
You don’t have to dress in brand new things, you
only have to look clean and bright
9.
If you haven’t worn it in a year, give it away. Someone else will love it too.
10.
There is nothing wrong with changing your mind.
11.
Brush your teeth every morning. It make a nice start to the day
12.
Personal-health sick days” are not only okay,
they are necessary sometimes.
13.
Actions speak louder than words; don’t tell
them, show them. They’ll remember it
forever
14.
Follow your dreams; how do you know that’s not
what you were put here to do?
15.
Serving fast food does not make you a bad mother
16.
Nothing will ever take the place of a
handwritten thank you note
My whole life, my Mum has been my biggest fan. She has championed my causes, celebrated my
successes, and been there when I needed a friend. She has been through all my highs and lows
and without doubt, she is the most constant thing in my life. Because of the example she gave me, I am a
good wife, a better mother, and a kind, decent, caring person. All because of my Mum. For my brother and I, she has always been our
sun and our moon, our ying and our yang, the missing piece to any puzzle we have. So today, my dearest Mummy, I want to tell
you how thankful I am for our relationship and how much I love you. Jason and I want you to have the happiest
birthday ever!
Thanks for letting me share a little of my Mum with
you. Now (spoken in thick Bronx accent),
“cahll ya mutha” and tell her how much you love her too!
Monday, February 13, 2012
Whats Up With All the Commercials About Poop?
Okay, I know this is NOT a pleasant topic, but when my young son is also moved to comment on it, I know I need to vent. Here's my issue: lately, every commercial on television is all about poop. Crap, toilet paper, how often we crap, how easily....suddenly that's all there ever seems to be on the small screen.
Personally, I have had it up to here with it. I am MORE than offended by the myriad of ads marching past me where they think they can be cute or informational and I won't notice we are talking about shit. I mean, how dumb does the advertising industry think we are? Even my kids know the cartoon bears with "pieces left behind" is really about wiping your butt.
And how about the yogurt that allegedly "gets you regular"? Isn't that just a nice way to say it makes you crap more often? And seriously, Ms. Curtis, I hope they are paying you, you'll excuse the expression, an ass-load of money to hawk this friggin' product. I'm so embarrassed for the Scream Queen. Are Depends next?
Have you seen the diaper commercial where cartoon babies are in a contest for who can load their diapers the fullest? No, it's true. They turn around, squeeze hard in some kind of crap-concentration, and blow ass into their seat-covers. The diapers blow up like balloons with their load. And the cartoon crowd cheers for the fullest pamper. I am NOT making this up.
As I sit here blogging, another commercial comes on in this same vein. This one features a group of women we are to assume are lovely, kind, reasonable consumers who have spent this lifetime searching for a toilet paper that does the job, because "it's about feeling clean." Really? Are you kidding me? How low have we actually sunk to make advertisers think this is acceptable.
I can take the tampon commercials, and the feminine hygiene products, because they never pretend to be something they're not. One even makes fun of itself. But these shit-happy, diaper-loading, butt-wiping commercials just, ahem, chap my ass.
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. Now, please excuse me while I "visit the facilities". And if any advertisers want to know why I bought the brand of toilet paper I have now, let me tell you, it really only comes down to one thing: texture. Make one as soft as my down comforter and I am THERE!
Personally, I have had it up to here with it. I am MORE than offended by the myriad of ads marching past me where they think they can be cute or informational and I won't notice we are talking about shit. I mean, how dumb does the advertising industry think we are? Even my kids know the cartoon bears with "pieces left behind" is really about wiping your butt.
And how about the yogurt that allegedly "gets you regular"? Isn't that just a nice way to say it makes you crap more often? And seriously, Ms. Curtis, I hope they are paying you, you'll excuse the expression, an ass-load of money to hawk this friggin' product. I'm so embarrassed for the Scream Queen. Are Depends next?
Have you seen the diaper commercial where cartoon babies are in a contest for who can load their diapers the fullest? No, it's true. They turn around, squeeze hard in some kind of crap-concentration, and blow ass into their seat-covers. The diapers blow up like balloons with their load. And the cartoon crowd cheers for the fullest pamper. I am NOT making this up.
As I sit here blogging, another commercial comes on in this same vein. This one features a group of women we are to assume are lovely, kind, reasonable consumers who have spent this lifetime searching for a toilet paper that does the job, because "it's about feeling clean." Really? Are you kidding me? How low have we actually sunk to make advertisers think this is acceptable.
I can take the tampon commercials, and the feminine hygiene products, because they never pretend to be something they're not. One even makes fun of itself. But these shit-happy, diaper-loading, butt-wiping commercials just, ahem, chap my ass.
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. Now, please excuse me while I "visit the facilities". And if any advertisers want to know why I bought the brand of toilet paper I have now, let me tell you, it really only comes down to one thing: texture. Make one as soft as my down comforter and I am THERE!
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Why Writing Horror is Scary
I was lucky enough to be a guest poster on Musa Publishing's blog for the Young Adult novelists, called Euterpe. I told the story of how my latest release, middle grade horror story, The Detention Demon, came to be. You may not have read it, so I'd like to share it here.
A raggedy group of delinquents, thrown together by circumstance,
get the opportunity to prove if rumors about the detention teacher being less
than human are true and discover it doesn’t take years of friendship to bond
together and overcome evil.
Why
Writing Horror is Scary by Samantha
Combs
When I was a young girl, I was a fanatic reader. I had books piled up in my bedroom, jammed in
my backpack and even crammed in my purse (small paperbacks can be stuffed in;
you don’t really need a wallet at fourteen.)
I think now it’s a good thing my parents didn’t pay a lot of attention
to what I was reading…..I think they might have been fairly freaked out. The Oh-My-God-Maybe-She-Needs-A-Psychiatrist
kind of freaked out. Because I wasn’t
reading what you might think a young girl was reading. No siree.
I had no time for anyone from anywhere called Sweet Valley
High. I loved those True Detective
Magazines with the gory story about how the woman was attacked. I read Go Ask Alice, a wrenching story about
a teenage runaway. I devoured anything
by Robert A. Heinlen and even though I pretended to be as bored as my peers
with the reading selections from my English classes, secretly, I was in heaven. I pounced on Animal Farm and Slaughterhouse
Five and I, Robot. I cruised sections of
the school library that l am now certain was never frequented by the student
body. Maybe, you’re getting it now…..I
had, um, different tastes.
When I wrote stories, everyone always died. Horribly.
Without limbs. And I got
older. I developed an all-consuming
fascination for true crime as well, worshipping at the literary feet of veteran
story spinners like Ann Rule. I read
about Bundy and the Green River killer and Son of Sam. Then I found and tore through Wes Craven and Michael
Crichton. And then one amazing,
wonderful, life-changing day, I stumbled across a book at a yard sale called
Night Shift.
A collection of short horror stories, I couldn’t put the book down
for hours, and I couldn’t sleep with the night off for days. I scrambled to get everything on this writer,
this Stephen King. I became one of the
followers, the faithful. No one could
write like him, ever, I thought. But,
Man, I sure wanted to.
I tried my hand at horror.
I sucked. I look at my efforts from then now and I’m embarrassed. I knew NOTHING about writing suspense and
drama and tension. But I found I could write a story that someone besides my Mum would read. And I got older.
A lot older. Like marriage,
husband, homes and children older. So I
shelved the horror and wrote little stories for the kids. Then one day two years ago, a little story
became a little novella, which became a novel, which became a Young Adult
paranormal series. I was proud of it,
and prouder still when it published. And
even more when it won an award! But I
wanted to do more. I wanted to write
horror. And I wanted it to be in my own
writing style, not anyone else’s. No
matter how much I worshipped them.
So I wrote one or two stories and let them marinate, to see how
they might taste after a while. They
tasted good. I wrote a couple more and
then I my Muse made her appearance. I
call her Musina.
My son had been given detention at school for an infraction and
carried on so much about it, I wondered what could be wrong with the teacher. Musina planted a seed. I wondered what would happen if there was something wrong with him. I asked my son what he thought about it and
he, wise sage that he is, said, Hey Mommy, maybe boys would like it enough to
keep reading. Wouldn’t that be cool, Mommy?
Musina and I got busy and just like that, The Detention Demon was born.
But I was worried. How
would a horror story aimed at young boys go over? There are so few “boycentric” books out
there, if I wrote a bad one, it would really stand out. And anyway, wasn’t R.L.Stine already doing
it? But once again, Musina set me
straight. No, he didn’t have a monopoly
on the genre, she said. You write
whatever you want. It’ll be great. And if only one boy gets the reading bug, wouldn’t
that be worth it? So I did. And shock of all shocks, a publisher liked
it. I was scheduled for a release date!
Then the nagging feeling came back. What if I couldn’t write horror? What if I wasn’t scary enough? I had to test run something. So I packaged my short horror stories
together in an anthology, self-published it and held my breath.
Ready for the shocker? They
liked it! They actually liked it a
lot! So, now I am back to holding my
breath. The Detention Demon released
today and I’m waiting to exhale. I hope
you enjoy it and even more, I hope you give it to your son and I hope he just
thinks…..it’s cool.
Wayne is a Junior High school boy who just got detention for
fighting in school to protect his longtime best friend, Gumby. But recently,
there have been stories about detention. Kids have mysteriously
disappeared, creating creepy rumors about detention class. Now, Wayne finds
himself trapped in there with school bully Bubba Dugan. Keeping his
distance from Bubba won’t be Wayne’s only problem. In fact, those rumors
about the detention teacher don’t seem like stories at all.
With his best friend Gumby, a crew of delinquents and a
surprising late addition, a pretty cheerleader harboring a secret crush, Wayne
and his group of misfits will have to band together to outwit the detention
teacher. He’s protected his best friend from harm his whole life…..but,
can he protect him and everyone else against something that might not even be
human?
About the Author: Samantha
Combs is the Global Ebook Award-winning author of Spellbound, and book two in
the series, Everspell. An additional YA ghost story, Ghostly is her third
publication, as well as a short horror story collection, Teeth and Talons, A
Horror Anthology, her fourth. She writes for Astraea Press and Musa
Publishing and for the sheer love of it. Following the release of The
Detention Demon, her fifth published book, look for Waterdancer, a new YA
paranormal from Musa Publishing coming in September of 2012.
CONNECT WITH ME!
WRITE, PUBLISH, AND BE INFORMED!
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Aren't Children Being Taught Manners Anymore?
I titled this post the way I did because I couldn't think of a better one. Seriously. This all came about because of a dinner my family and I went on to our neighborhood restaurant. We patronize this place frequently because it is reasonably priced, close to home, and the kids eat free on Wednesdays. I am totally not ashamed to admit this. And also admittedly, the frequency and locale pales in comparison to the free Weds thing. Sorry, the books aren't paying the bills just yet. Anyway, I digress.
We were there recently, on the aforementioned kid night and the place was packed with families. Seems we aren't the only ones being frugal with a buck these days. Now, my husband and I have been bringing the kids out to dinner since they were born. In the beginning we used to put the oldest in his car carrier and shove him under the table to sleep. We would eat happily, alone or with friends, then get up at the end of the meal and pull our baby out from under the table. So fun to see the other people's reactions, especially the ones that were seated AFTER we were and never saw us stash him. But I give you the back story so you can share in my incredulity.
What the hell has happened to children's restaurant manners?
My husband and I are proud that we can take our kids to nearly (and I mean NEARLY) any restaurant designed for families and they have great manners. Can order, say please and thank you, and use a napkin. Not rocket science, I know, but come on. When they do it, I glow. But this last outing was amazing. Kids were running around the tables and aisles, babies were screaming with no adult attention, and one kid kept pulling my hair in the booth behind us. I tried "The Glare" aimed at the parents, but they obviously didn't get the memo. Crayons were thrown, rude bodily noises were overheard and kids acted up, unheeded by anyone in authority. I may not be a model mom, but if one of my kids acted that way, he or she would find themselves, as my Mum calls it, "scurffed and removed" from the table. I have said, "Do you want to eat your dinner in the van?" more times than I care to remember. But generally, they have great table manners in a restaurant and they make us both beam with pride.
So, I bitched about the other kid's behavior to my hubs all the way home. Were we too strict with the kids? Were we not allowing them to act like kids and have fun? He looked at me like I'd gone insane and said, "Not in a &^%*& restaurant!" I snapped to and realized I agreed with him. But I am, as always, interested in your thoughts.
Have you experienced this yourself? Have you addressed it? Are you one of those people who should be on "What Would You Do?" My husband is not a boat-rocker as I am and gets embarrassed to the gills when I speak up, so I don't when he is around. But I really want to know: Are you seeing the same thing as us....namely that children are not being taught core values of respect and decorum? Please post here. I'm totally dying to know!
We were there recently, on the aforementioned kid night and the place was packed with families. Seems we aren't the only ones being frugal with a buck these days. Now, my husband and I have been bringing the kids out to dinner since they were born. In the beginning we used to put the oldest in his car carrier and shove him under the table to sleep. We would eat happily, alone or with friends, then get up at the end of the meal and pull our baby out from under the table. So fun to see the other people's reactions, especially the ones that were seated AFTER we were and never saw us stash him. But I give you the back story so you can share in my incredulity.
What the hell has happened to children's restaurant manners?
My husband and I are proud that we can take our kids to nearly (and I mean NEARLY) any restaurant designed for families and they have great manners. Can order, say please and thank you, and use a napkin. Not rocket science, I know, but come on. When they do it, I glow. But this last outing was amazing. Kids were running around the tables and aisles, babies were screaming with no adult attention, and one kid kept pulling my hair in the booth behind us. I tried "The Glare" aimed at the parents, but they obviously didn't get the memo. Crayons were thrown, rude bodily noises were overheard and kids acted up, unheeded by anyone in authority. I may not be a model mom, but if one of my kids acted that way, he or she would find themselves, as my Mum calls it, "scurffed and removed" from the table. I have said, "Do you want to eat your dinner in the van?" more times than I care to remember. But generally, they have great table manners in a restaurant and they make us both beam with pride.
So, I bitched about the other kid's behavior to my hubs all the way home. Were we too strict with the kids? Were we not allowing them to act like kids and have fun? He looked at me like I'd gone insane and said, "Not in a &^%*& restaurant!" I snapped to and realized I agreed with him. But I am, as always, interested in your thoughts.
Have you experienced this yourself? Have you addressed it? Are you one of those people who should be on "What Would You Do?" My husband is not a boat-rocker as I am and gets embarrassed to the gills when I speak up, so I don't when he is around. But I really want to know: Are you seeing the same thing as us....namely that children are not being taught core values of respect and decorum? Please post here. I'm totally dying to know!
Friday, February 3, 2012
I Guest-Blogged Today
Today I was proud to be the guest blogger at Seriously Reviewed. I talk about the difficulty of getting started and what I do to conquer it. I'm re-posting the blog here. Let me know what YOU do when you get "stuck". Open the link here: http://seriouslyreviewedarchive.blogspot.com/2012/02/samantha-combs.html?showComment=1328331064675#c8366555517035218445 or read below:
I want to write about an unpopular subject in the writing
world…..starting. After you have the
first book under your belt, you sit back, try to relax and wait for the next
amazing idea to hit you. But before that
happens, I won’t lie….it’s murder.
I still treat every manuscript the same way I did with
the first. I don’t open the Word
document and stare at a blank page. No
way. That would make me insane. And I don’t start in the beginning,
either. I realize that might make you insane. But I couldn’t, and still can’t, force what
won’t come.
You see, I’ve been a writer my whole life. Oh, yes, I’ve written notes, and checks and
To-Do lists. I’ve written addresses and
reminders and hate mail to the cable company.
I’d even written short little tales for my kids. What I had never done was write a novel. I knew I had one in me, and back then I could
only think as far as that one. Then one
day my four year old daughter announced she wanted to marry Edward the
Vampire. Really? A cold-as-ice interloper with abandonment
issues? Hell, no, that was not going to
happen. I decided I needed to give her a
role model who was a real man, someone I would be proud if she brought him
home. Someone with heart and valor and
courage. I jotted a few words down, then
a couple sentences, and soon, several paragraphs.
As I was enjoying shaping my characters and
world-building, I suddenly realized…..OMG, I was writing a novel! The very idea scared me so much that I closed
the computer and didn’t open it again for two weeks. The laptop sat on the couch, blinking it’s
lights at me in an accusatory manner. I
would glance at it, longing to be drawn to it, but never quite feeling the
pull.
I turned to the one person in my life who would know what
to do. My mum. Not a fellow writer, an editor, or even my
husband, patient as he tried to be with my dark looks across the living room at
an innocent piece of technology. “You’re
not writing tonight?” he would ask.
“No.” I would snap, closing the door on further conversation. I was confounded, stymied,
misunderstood. What was the
problem? What could help?
My mum knew. I
asked her over the phone if “it” had left me.
The elusive urge to create, the need to divine, the absolute requirement
to spill my imaginary worlds onto my laptop keyboard. I could hear her laugh over the phone. “You always do this,” she said. “You get overwhelmed by the task. Just do the next thing on the list.”
She was right, of course.
I always over think things. It’s
the curse of the perfectionist, the detailed, the
life-long list-maker.
And I’m a Scorpio, just to complicate matters. But my mummy’s words rang a bell of
understanding, of acceptance, even of empowerment. Damn right!
I was the writer and I would not let a little story take me
down. I hung up the phone and marched
into the living room. I flipped up the
laptop and told it, “Okay, then. Bring
it!” It took me only six weeks after
that to finish my book.
Next time you are facing the same situation, don’t go as
long as I did. When Mum gave me the key
to continue writing, I did. I wrote one
chapter at a time. I set tiny, easy
goals for myself. Write one
chapter. Write 500 words. Write 500 words that aren’t edited all to
hell the next day. And one more
goal….never force myself. And I always
think of the next scene, the next chapter, the next book, in the exact same
way. Just the next thing on the list.
BIO: Samantha
Combs writes YA and MG and currently has four books available.
Her first, Spellbound, a YA paranormal fantasy, has won the Global Ebook
Award for Speculative Fiction-Fantasy.
The follow-up, Book Two, called Everspell, released in January. There will be a third. She has another YA paranormal called Ghostly
and a self-published horror anthology entitled Teeth and Talons. Two more books are scheduled for release in
2012, The Detention Demon, a Middle Grade horror, and Waterdancer, a YA
fantasy. She is a proud author for
Astraea Press and Musa Publishing.
Samantha loves to connect with new and aspiring writers
and authors. Please visit her blog at www.samanthacombswrites.blogspot.com
or her facebook page www.facebook.com/AuthorSamanthaCombs.
Ghostly Gets Some Love
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Ghostly by Samantha Combs is a young adult paranormal romance.
Juice and her friends Sixx, Jett, and Creepshow have always been social misfits at school, but they had each other so they didn't care. Things are about to change. Juice sees a new boy, Shane, in class and she defiantly has his attention. They sat there talking until a jock from the football team arrived, sitting right on him and Shane disappeared! But, to make it even weirder, there is a message in her notebook saying he will explain it later. I mean poof and he was gone. To Sixx's credit, she believed Juice when she told her, but neither could believe it when Shane tells Juice he picked her out to help him find a new body. If that wasn't strange enough, Juice finds herself in the middle of three love interests, Shane, Creepshow, and someone new. For a girl who had few friends, to one all the boys were taking an interest, Juice has some big decisions to make, on top of helping Shane, if she can keep up with all the changes in her life.
The complications of a teenager's life are difficult enough without adding the stress of dealing with having a ghost as a friend. It was fascinating how Shane waited so long to find someone to help him, but his interest in Juice is much more personal. The complication of having boys, in plural, interested in Juice boggled her mind and the dilemma she found herself in is one that many girls understand and was very funny! When Creepshow divulged his feelings to Juice, the emotions and newfound love was beautiful to read. The unexpected ending brought tears to my eyes, while at the same time; I felt happiness and joy for the characters. I can't wait to read other books by Ms. Combs.
Reviewed by: Teresa
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