Impressive Photos of Live Models That Look Like Paintings

Flavorwire

Los Angeles-based artist Alexa Meade creates living artworks using models that look like paintings. The transformation from three-dimensional person into two-dimensional painting is seamless and seriously impressive. Meade’s colorful photos of graffiti-covered walls jump to life with her painted figures. Other images of a painted person wandering the subway are surreal. Enjoy more of Meade’s photos, which we learned about on My Modern Met, below.

View original post

The Genealogist’s Guests Preview

The existence of ghosts dates back to ancient times. Having been sighted in Europe, Japan, China,  Canada, London, Germany, the United States and other parts of the world it’s a wonder some dispute their existence.  The non-believers, the ones whose perceptions tell them their brains are playing tricks on them hear the thumps around the house, they smell their deceased mother’s perfume, and they see objects move. Supernatural events that frequent their everyday lives. Yet, they refuse to believe their loved ones have returned. All things strange have  reasonable explanations they say. But they feel the ghost’s presence and the anxiety associated with the experience. Perhaps they refuse to accept their own fates, that they one day will live a parallel existence into the unknown.  

Liz Taber journeys into the unknown. Captured by an evil that plagued her family since 1885. It is there Liz finds the strength passed down to her through generations to combat forces the living fears. It is there she meets her fifth generation grandmother, Isabella Hay. A fiery spirit of Scotland. Together they battle Wilbur Savage, a psychotic child rapist and murderer in life, a deranged demonic being in death.  They must find a way to save future Taber children from the wrath of evil. To the non- believers who read this post, happy dreams. Don’t worry about the thumps in the night. There’s a reasonable explanation.

The Genealogist’s Guests. Coming soon.

Rock City-Chattanooga Tn

I recently went to Chattanooga Tn and visited Rock City. There I was in line thinking to my self, I’m about to pay twenty dollars to walk out on a cliff. The view was stunning!

Rock City Chattanooga Tn   The walking path was amazing.  For my twenty I saw a waterfall, cave, a wonderful   view, and beautiful gardens! I walked a wood and rope bridge too! My uncle thought it was a fun to shake the bridge as I walked it. I thought it was me making it move and hurried to the other side! While I was up there my writer’s imagination went crazy. I could write many a scene sitting in the gardens. It was peaceful, colorful, and breathtaking.

Dare to Write and Share

I recently wrote and published, Compelled, by Ann Simpson, an intense story in a jail setting about a young couple’s encounter with a dangerous criminal subculture. It’s a crime novel, a romance, a drama, and is available at Amazon, CreateSpace, and Smashwords. Many published indie authors understand the work that goes into each of these, the writing, editing, book cover, formating, and marketing! While marketing I was drawn to the many first pages or chapters offered for view at Amazon, believe me one could spend hours just reading these excerpts from our fellow indie author’s works.

I asked a reader, a friend of a friend, what exactly grabs her attention when choosing a book to read. She said the cover first, then the first sentence or couple of sentences of the first chapter. If that grabs her she said she closes the book and looks on the back cover for a synopsis. If she gets that, I want to read this, feeling, she purchases the book. First impressions seem critical! And so I have decided to share an excerpt of my upcomming novel The Genealogist’s Guests, albeit minor changes with editing could happen,  I thought it would fun to share.

Coldness throughout the house couldn’t stop her.  The fire she set hours before was a mere hint of smolder that barely lit the large room outside of her small home office. Stacks of papers and books lay all around. A small lamp was placed on the floor to her right.  The sixty watt bulb faced a wall illuminating the family tree painted onto the canvas from floor to ceiling.

The wind outside howled as the storm approached, and mother nature’s threat to cut power to Liz’s computer rushed her as she searched almost desperately for clues about Isabella Hay Taber, her third generation great grandmother.  The lights dimmed as the computer prepared to shut down, “No!” Liz held the monitor with both hands, “I haven’t saved it.” The sound of the computer tower’s hum went silent right after the click Liz heard shattering her pleas for just a little more time. She was close to finding out how Isabella came to Rhode Island from Saint Nicolas, Aberdeen, Scotland.

She looked over to her wall at the tree she painted, nearly three thousand ancestors smothered by darkness as the storm outside beat the wood siding of Rhode Island Colonial, a sturdy structure built in 1920. She stood in the darkness facing her family tree visualizing the names she had painstakingly wrote with the tip of a paint brush, Isabella’s name called to her, a feeling she couldn’t escape. Something about the young girl from Scotland who married her third generation great grandfather Edward Luther Taber sparked her curiosity but with the power out she would have to wait to continue searching for answers.

Liz purchased the twenty four hundred square foot home several years back with hopes of entertaining family who all remained in Virginia when she moved north. They said she was crazy for leaving but Liz had a passion for ancestry and she wanted to be near her ancestor’s graves, their old homesteads, and the towns they lived in, she needed to connect.  She especially liked the Town of Norwich, Connecticut.  A Dunkin Donut shop on Main Street served up a hot cup of coffee on cold New England days. Liz walked many a day down the walkways and roads surrounded by buildings built long ago. She laid her eyes on the Carroll Building built in 1887, and the Norwich Town Hall built in 1870, in fact the very ancestors she’d come looking for walked the same path as she and saw the same landmarks.

She closed the office door and tended to the fire incased in a brick mantle and mused at the size of it. It took up the entire wall leaving no room for cozy corners. She made the best of it and circled her sofa and chairs facing the fire. She’d sleep right there on the sofa to keep warm until the power resumed. She wouldn’t have minded a cup of hot tea but she was feeling tired and the idea of heating the water by fire seemed too much for her to do at the time so she settled for brandy. She never really felt lonely with all her dead ancestors occupying her time but situations like this when the power was out she’d allow herself to hope that soon someone from Virginia would come visit. She sipped her brandy and eventually fell off to sleep.

The storm continued through the night and the house fell silent except for the howling wind and rain outside. Liz lay fast asleep in the large room lit by the fierce fire she built. Adjacent to the room, the home office door was closed to keep the warmth in the main room she occupied. A hum of soft musical tones lingered in the background of the office.  The tree of many names was shadowed by darkness. Close to the base of the tree Isabella’s name was bright. The humming continued as the office door slowly opened and as Liz laid on the sofa covered with her favorite throw a woman wearing a black dress that hung to her ankles sat in the chair next to her. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, her face was aged but revealed a beauty that once was, and her adoring eyes rested on Liz.

Liz turned to her side and opened her eyes. She felt the unease and looked to the empty chair, she had an overwhelming sense she wasn’t alone. She closed her eyes and mumbled, Go back to sleep. She hummed a tune she hadn’t heard before and assumed she’d made it up in her brandy induced fog, then fell fast asleep. Isabella rose from the chair and hummed the same tune until her spirit reached her name on the handpainted family tree in the tiny home office where Liz called for truth about her ancestors.

Dare to share yours!

Compelled

And so, after much thought and hard work on my book, I’ve finally come to a decision…the first and second books belong together, and so, part one The Tug and part two The Thrust will be under one cover.

Yep, I posted the message above on Facebook Saturday, June 16, 2012. It’s possibly the craziest decision I’ve ever made. But fact is as the author of the two titles I couldn’t see them as separate books. The second continued from the first and though I was told, “If people like the first one they’ll buy the second, you’ll sell two instead of one.” The better advice was that I, the author, am the one who knows best. And my gut tells me to do the crazy, to take a chance, and give my passion, my story under one cover. Well actually sell it under one cover.

Maybe it’s the first time published author thing. You know where the rush to get the first part The Tug out to readers was so exciting and, forgive me; irresistible, it had blinded me to the full potential of Compelled. And so, after much thought The Tug and The Thrust will be part one and two in my soon to be released new and not so new novel. The story, you may ask, is love at its strongest triumph, the will to stand against all obstacles, and in Macon’s case, criminals, to save his sweet Anna. A story of a good boy gone bad ass, forced, err, compelled to become whatever he had to, to assure his freedom and he won’t leave without Anna.

The cover is completed! I am happy to give great credit to my new book cover artist Donna Casey. Take a look at her portfolio at http://www.digitaldonna.com. If you’re in the market for a cover I recommend Donna!  I’m crazy about the new cover. It will soon be seen at Amazon, CreateSpace, and Smashwords. The editing process is complete with special thanks to Diane Reynolds my editor. All that’s left to do is join the two parts, and yikes, format, and send them on their way to readers. It feels like sending my baby off to, yep, jail!

Interested? Maybe crazy sparks a little curiosity?  I am an indie author! My taking a chance shouldn’t surprise anyone, right, you got me on that one. I don’t know whether my book will be a success, but I hope, pray, wish, want people to read and enjoy my work. So what’s this turmoil of mine all about? It’s about losing one’s self in fiction, mad writing and living, yes breathing each word to create an escape for readers. But not an escape from feeling the emotions because:

Macon will do anything for her. Anna soon finds out how far he will go. They are joined by love and separated by housing units. Set up by cunning criminals and forced to do the unthinkable. Macon finds the strength to free himself but Anna is left behind. He is driven by his love for her and revenge for those who did this to them. His predicament is worse than torture, but he’s relentless and dangerous. They pulled him into their world and now he must push his way back out. He’s not leaving without Anna.

Back to Work

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profile/TheresaSimpson

I’ve just boasted about my editor Diane Reynolds. She reviewed my first five chapters of the Thrust, edited and returned it for my review. I posed a question for anyone who wishes to share. Do you have an editor you’d love to to brag about? How well does that person work with you? I love being able to send five chapters for review myself that way I can move on with the story which by the way is at chapter seven. Though illness put me behind I feel rejuvenated and a late March early April release date is still planned. Oh how I love the thought of another title published 🙂

A Story Calling

My first thougth as I write this post is that right outside my window here the birds are singing, the sun is up and shining bright, and I am feeling much better after last weeks kick my butt illness kept my head on my pillow. Now I have lots to do, with my novels that is. I am currently writing The Thrust but as a writer’s need would have it my imagination keeps wondering to a story I seem destined to write. I have a title. I have the plot, I’ve toyed with the idea of having a cover designed for it, I might have to write it.

The Genealogists Guests

Torn as I am I must decide which to focus on, come on, I tell myself. Get it together. And so I’m leaning toward…

The Query

About the novel I wrote in 29 days during the NaNoWriMo event. I’ve been through the editing process, I’ve read page after page several times. My word count ended up being 51,653.  Short for a novel I think but doable. I wrote a Query and sent it off in email submission. It takes four weeks to recieve a reponse, which could be “I hate it,” or, “Not what were’re looking for at this time,” or any other response including, “Send us the first five chapters!”

The process of choosing an agent was long, however, I feel the one I chose is right for me and for my realistic fiction piece. Meanwhile my inner voice is telling me to get on that second draft, the one that spins from the first where my protagonist, my hero loser, man….its hard to explain, enters what is almost an alternate world, a world of conspiracy, threats, daring acts, and painful memories, just to be with his girl, Anna.

The agent I chose is good about sending responses but tough on requesting additional material. I’m good with that, I feel if she turns it down I’ll learn from the experience, or maybe its isn’t what she’s looking for. In that case I’ll move on. If she accepts and request more, what I really hope for, and yes I’ve set my hopes on this particular agent to represent my work, then I believe she will love the novel.

Whatever the outcome, and though I’ve written many works past, my first out reach to an agent has just happened, a step forward, a process, a goal completed. Now about that second draft…

 

Distracted by Photos

Last evening my Aunt Shiela visited and brought with her a bunch of old photos. My other blog SimTab Ancestry is my first passion and I am missing it while I particpate in NaNoWriMo. The photos are of my ancestors some of whom I’ve met and some I’ve never  had the opportunity to meet. All are great and it is a real pleasure to have written about them and finally seeing what they looked like.  The clothes they wore well you know it was the 40’s, and the cars, and homes, and hairstyles, laughing here, but it all touches my heart. Of course this has distracted me from my NaNo novel.

18,376 That’s how many words I’ve written. If I complete another 1,667 words I will at least be up to date and finish by November 30th. So I’ll sit here and struggle my way through as all those wonderful pictures sit close by. I can’t wait to scan them and add them to my SimTab Ancestry Blog. My aunt said there’s many more, and now December 1st, after NaNo, another goal, a current hobby, with another activity will occupy my days.  I am excited!

Now back to my main character Macon. Well, a call for duty as an inmate has come. Macon doesn’t quite know what it is Nathaniel wants from him but he bets its illegal or at least against jail rules. “We got some business to do,” Nathaniel wrote on a piece of paper. Macon has no intentions of joining Nathaniel in anything, but Nathaniel has a secret weapon, a way to get Macon to do what he wants, or else.

So I’ll now write another 500 words before I take a break. I must finish this novel that’s become a good story.

Oh No I Falling Behind

Yesterday I didn’t log my word count into the NaNoWriMo’s word count tracker! Why? I hadn’t completed it! Oh, I managed to get nearly a thousand words out before work yesterday, but I had to leave early for work, to get home early and take the baby to the doctors, and the teen to her last soccer game, and by the time I made it home last night at eight my creativity was shot. I’m a early bird, no qualms about that.

So I just finished my word count for day ten, on day eleven, I know, not good to fall behind. I added the new count on NaNo, and though the day before yesterday the little stat feature advised that at that rate, the day before yesterday, I would finish my novel, or 50,000 words by November 29. I thought, great! Not so bad. It has drastically changed today.

I typed my word count in at 16,719, note 1667 times ten is 16, 670. I should be 49 words into day 11, right?  Well guess what at this rate I now won’t finish my novel until December 2nd! 1667 words today may help.

But I lost three days! What’s that little joke, “That by Tuesday even the calendar is saying WTF!” I refuse to not meet my 50,000 words by November 30th. I don’t care what the calendar is stressing about.

By Tuesday I will find my three days by writing myself into permanent residency with my main character Macon, who by the way just witnessed a tragic event and wonders about his own well being. I realize living with Macon will be difficult but if that’s what it takes so be it. Now back to knocking out day 11 and possibly day 12 too!

Hang in there all, life just happens.

1st 10 pages

1st impressions. Final drafts.

The Delete Key

A real writer knows when to hit the delete key.

The Dystopian Nation of City-State

A cruel, futuristic vision created by science fiction authors James Courtney and Kaisy Wilkerson-Mills. ©2013-2016. All Rights Reserved. All writings available through Amazon.

Authordiscovery.com

Helping authors get found, get feedback, get fans, and even get famous!

ladybug and lulu

two little ladies. one continuous adventure.

How to Make, Market and Sell Ebooks

self-publishing tips for authors

Christa Wojciechowski

Dark Fiction, Delirium, and Digital Marketing

readers+writers journal

Connecting Readers and Writers

When Nothing Goes Write

...and I mean nothing.

Andrea Reads America

A literary tour of the USA

Balls Deep and crying like a baby...

Reviews, ramblings, and crap like that from Rich Meyer.

Words That Stay

A Blog by K.M. Alleena

preposterousprose

20,000 leagues under the blog

Michael Frost's Frostbitten Blog

I wouldn't look under the bed if I were you.

Espen Stenersrød- From Pen To Heart

Jack Kerouac with a scent of Henry Vaughn

Sarah O'Flynn

Blogging My First Novel, one post at a time

Books Go Social

Social Media and Marketing for Authors

audrey lexington

My dream is to become a professional bullshit artist. Or, as others prefer to call them, a novelist. I know, a highly unoriginal and unattainable goal. What's my back-up plan? Ninja fairy. Here's to being disgustingly unoriginal!