Facebook Rant & Tiny Teaser

So the whole Facebook debacle...

I get that as an Indie author, I need to put myself out there. I love doing that. I love meeting new people, and creating fun and lasting friendships. But I admit this whole Facebook "likes" obsession is unraveling me. I'm not an in-your-face person, and waiting and waiting and waiting for Facebook likes to pile up gets tiring for me, lol.

So last night, at my measly 182 likes, I posted a teaser. I wasn't at any great number, quite pathetic compared to a lot of my author friends. And it wasn't a significant moment, but I just felt like it. I tend to have the attention span of a flea and the patience of a gnat so I posted it, and GUESS WHAT? I went from my measly 182 to 240 likes in the span of an evening.

WOW!

Which gets me wondering - with all the books that are floating around out there and the hundreds, more like thousands, coming out this year, I'm realizing there is more than one way to do things. Some authors put themselves out there right away, they get their likes, they build their fan base, and they sit back and revel in their success. While others are slower to warm. They write the books, put them out there, then build their fire a little slower with networking and chatting people up.

Get to your point, Megan!

Ahem, yes. My point is that I'm learning what is best for me. And what is best for me may not be best for someone else. The great thing about being Indie is I can do this my way. I have no idea what my success will be, whether big or small. That is in God's hands, and I trust Him completely. At the end of the day, I need to be happy with what I've done. And going full-throttle is just not my style.

On that note, if anyone wants to chat me up on Twitter or Facebook, please feel free! Me loves to chat :)

Now, here's the teaser that bumped my likeage.

P.S. Lila, my main character, is the one speaking, and I have changed the male character's names to keep the element of surprise when you read the novel. 


          Turner’s face twisted with anger and aggravation. A look that said he’d told me so. Brady found his footing again and tacked my feet to the floor while Turner pulled the zip tie so tight it cut into my wrists. I cried out in pain only to realize the horror wasn’t over. Turner had turned away, and I heard a soft click, then a needle glimmered in the glow of the streetlights.

Instantly going still, I swallowed a whimper and backed into the window so hard that I really thought my fingers might break. Liquid squirted from the needle.

“Hold her good,” Turner told him, quiet and resigned.

I couldn’t see Turner’s face as he emptied the needle into my arm. All I saw was Brady. His eyes were pumped with malicious desire as he watched me go unconscious. A greedy, evil spark that I could imagine must match a serial killer’s as they watch the life go out of their victim’s eyes. And the only thing I could think in those last few seconds before the drug towed me under was: how could I have missed that?

Whatcha think?

A Too-Soon Goodbye and a FREE gift that could save your life

Trevor on the left, with his buddies

I’ve been quiet in the online social world this week. We lost a friend this week. His name was Trevor, he was two weeks older than me, a fabulous musician, warm-hearted, laid back, hilarious, and an all-around good guy. I don’t handle death well. Not that anyone does, but I guess you could say, I don’t handle it normally. I’m a firm believer in heaven, hell, and a loving God, but it’s still difficult for me to fathom a person being here one minute and the next, gone. It’s an issue my brain battles from time to time, so when I think about Trevor’s death, it’s hard to make my brain grasp that he’s just gone.

I don’t handle funerals well, either. I’ve been fortunate in that I can count the funerals I’ve been to on one hand, and this is the first time I’ve experienced a friend, someone our age, dying. And, again, not that anyone handles a funeral, but I get clammy, nervous. I’m uncomfortable. I can’t come within so many feet of an open casket. It doesn’t seem right saying goodbye to an unbreathing body with no soul. And you can feel it. When you’re there, bent over them, looking at the too-thick makeup, and their strangely molded hands folded over their middle, it’s just… not right. I don’t like it. I don’t know if anyone else shares this view, but I can’t help how I feel.

At Trevor’s service, his father stood and made a speech about how he was an early walker, bright, a good older brother, kind to everyone he met, and how that night he asked his dad if he could borrow something. His dad said “sure, come on over”. Trevor said, “Thanks, Pops. I’ll be there in twenty.” And never showed.

Our hearts are hurting, but what hurts the most is how preventable his death was.

Sunday night, Trevor lost control of his car in the rain and catapulted into a pond. He panicked, didn’t think to open a window right away before his car filled with water, and by the time he was fully submerged, he couldn’t open the door or break the glass. It took rescue workers an hour to get him out.

Hundreds of people a year die this way, and my husband and I want to do everything we can to make sure this never happens again. Below is a video, showing exactly how to get out of a car, should you find yourself submerged in water. ALSO, we are ordering glass break/seat belt cutting tools from Amazon and are giving these out FREE! If you do a search on Amazon, you’ll see several different brands. Here is the one we’re giving out. If you want one PLEASE CONTACT ME. We will buy and ship FREE. This is at NO COST to you. NO questions asked. (I'm fully aware that I sound like an infomercial right now.) We just want to make sure such a preventable death never happens again, as much as we can within our ability.

If you want to buy your own, PLEASE DO. If you want us to send you one, go to my CONTACT ME page, or email me your info directly at meganhandwrites@gmail.com. All I need is your name and address, and we’ll ship it out as soon as we get them in. You are NOT putting us out by asking for one. We want to help. Let us do that.

Thank you for reading. Prayers for his family are much appreciated, and please please watch the video below!

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What the fudge?!

Sorry, Melanie, I stole your picture. It IS hilarious!

Yes. I went to see the new Twilight movie last night. I am not ashamed. In fact, I'm not ashamed to admit that I LOVE all the books and have read them several times. Melanie from Daydream to Writer was just saying yesterday that it's sad that, as Twilight lovers, we for some reason feel embarrassed now to admit we love the books/movies. I agree. It is sad. Partly because the biggest reason people hate on them is they're so popular and it's become "cool", like going all black-lipped Goth or walking with a limp-swag just because you have to sag those jeans halfway down your rear. I'm not campaigning for everyone to love them. I just think it's silly to feel shunned or not taken seriously for loving them.

At the start of one of my college classes one quarter, we were introducing ourselves and giving the class a Fun Fact. This girl introduced herself and her Fun Fact was that she loved 'such and such' books and couldn't stand Twilight. I brushed it off, even though she said it with such naive attitude. But she kept referring to it during random class activities. So I asked her once, "Why don't you like Twilight?" She looked at me blankly, and I asked, "Have you ever read them?" Her stunned face turned a little red. "Um, no."

SERIOUSLY?

"BUT," she huffed on. "I've had many friends read them and say they're terrible."
  
Mmmhmm. Everything she said from that day forward, I never took her seriously. 

So. The movie. Now my undying love for the books has no bearing on the cheesy productions that are the films. This is my opinion, maybe some of you will share it, maybe not. The first movie was a complete travesty. The others have gotten better, but they still have the quality of a TV movie. Oh well. I've long since accepted it, and I still go to the openings every year, because I love partaking in it, and even with the lack of quality, I've loved seeing these beloved characters in the flesh, with all the smoke and mirrors of incredible CGI. (First movie, not so incredible.)

And for Breaking Dawn, I was going into it a little antsier and more hyper than normal, because they'd been blasting all over TV there was going to be a TWIST. What was this twist going to be? Well, first, I can say the movie went as expected to start. Glorious cheese, but fun to watch. Then the TWIST.

WHAT. THE. FUDGE! And my sister and I almost walked out of the theater ten different times. I was MAD, and screaming in my head "THEY HAVE MURDERED HER BOOK!" But we did not leave. We stuck it out. And it was worth it. I can't spoil it, but... No. Can't spoil it. I will say, though, I cried in those last sixty seconds. In a good way. This series of movies I was forced to keep such low expectations for actually had one of the most beautiful last minutes of a movie I've ever seen. It was perfect. The music was perfect. The characters - for that one minute, lol - were perfect. And all was right with the world.

If you're going to watch it, prepare yourself. DON'T LEAVE! Be patient and you will be rewarded. And I'm sure anyone who's interested has already seen the trailer, but here it is. Now, in the words of my brilliant sister (I almost snorted Root Beer when she said this to me last night) - Let's go sparkle together.

Accomplishments: What if I don’t…?

 That big fat scary word has been on my mind lately. Accomplishments - also known as success. It arrives in my thoughts with such grandeur that it requires a perimeter of lights and mental jazz hands. There’s an oomph to the way it sounds, a kind of graceful bluntness. It’s big and it means big things. It brings glory and victory and leap-for-joy moments of happiness that are gone sometimes before the champagne bottle is even uncorked.

To say that I’ve struggled with this word is a severe understatement. This word has branded my life. As a Type A personality, I feel like I walk around with a tallied list tattooed to my forehead.

What have I done in this life worth anything and was it enough? Have I jumped high enough, ran fast enough, bruised my butt enough times just to prove to myself that I can keep getting up?

Of course, it’s impossible to talk Accomplishments without the addition of its gossipy, evil counterpart: FAILURE. And it seems like half of my accomplishments turn into failure simply because they didn’t turn out the way I first envisioned.

An example of this would be Motherhood.

I remember being pregnant and rubbing my belly shiny while lovingly whispering all my hopes and dreams to the wriggling body inside of me. Even nearing thirty, my naiveté rivaled someone from “16 And Pregnant”. Once that screaming, gooey, writhing thing popped out, those hopes and dreams got sucked into vacuum cleaners, absorbed into puke rags, and wrapped up in 10+ dirty diapers a day. All of my happy ideas of letting my child roam the wheat fields (not literally), carefree and content, were swept under the rug of teaching him not to bite me – or other people. Every single day of motherhood is stacked with success and failure all intertwined into one drooly, tantrum-throwing package. But what will I really remember when I look back on this experience?

Our adventures. His smiles. Favorite books. Little quirks that set him apart from other kids. The timbre of his laugh. The heart-tugging pitch of his voice. The pure joy of just simply looking at him and thinking, “Damn, he’s perfect.”

Years from now, I won’t really remember all the diapers, or the sleepless nights… Okay, yeah I will. Because I never forget. Never. But that’s still not the stuff that’s gonna matter. 

And neither will all these little nomadic periods of my life where I feel like I’m floating and not accomplishing anything.

I have to keep telling myself: It’s okay if the finish line looks a little different or is a little farther off than I originally hoped. It’s okay if I don’t read 100,000,000,000,000 books this year. It’s OKAY if I don’t write a novel this year.

Live in the present, Megan!

Step outside, inhale the smog-filled air for the pure joy of it. Take in a sunset once in a while. Watch a movie without fidgeting thirty times a minute wondering what you really should be doing instead of sitting on the couch like you have Restless Leg Syndrome.

IT’S  O-KAY.

The finish line is there. I just can’t see it yet. And maybe when I get there, there won’t be cascades of streamers or flashing lights or gobs of people cheering me on, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t GET THERE!

Because when I do GET THERE, Oh baby, it’s gonna be beautiful. Even if it’s just my husband and a high five. I’m going to enjoy the moment, suck in the pressing excitement of what I’ve done, then go out and watch a sunset. Or a movie. (Sitting still is optional.)