Gone for a Soldier - Cover Reveal

All good things come to those who wait...patiently!

I'm counting a lot of blessings lately, even as I remain frazzled over various issues in my life, like, um, taxes. Which I must get down to doing very soon.

Be that as it may, this post is a reward for those who have waited for a long, long time. Those who have stuck by me through thick and thin. My loyal readers, book buyers, and Street Team. My loyal family members who have encouraged me and helped me carry on, even as I continue to live life alone. Alone, but never lonely.

Remember the name of this blog? I know these characters like my own family. That's why I knew them the instant I set eyes upon this art work.

Yes, the couple is Rulon Owen and Mary Hilbrands, exactly as I've seen them in my mind's eye.

The incomparable Linda Boulanger of Tell~Tale Cover Designs has done it again! 

Gone for a Soldier will be out later this summer, but I couldn't wait any longer to reveal the cover.

If you want to help me show it off, please contact me for additional blog materials at marshaward.az@gmail.com. In the meantime, feel free to Tweet, Share, Pin, etc., and help me get the word out that Rulon Owen and his brothers are going to war ... and they won't take any prisoners.

Fabulous Friends and Fans...and Stumblers upon the Scene

Because I have been negligent to a group of people who I have designated as my Fabulous Friends & Fans─and some of them are very much Super Fans─I am extending the olive branch below, an advance reveal of the cover of a forthcoming novel. It's not the next novel, but the cover is complete and exceedingly awesome, and I don't know how I have kept it hidden all the time that I have.

For those of you who happened to stumble upon this site, this is your lucky day.

The designer is the fabulous Linda Boulanger of Tell~Tale Cover Designs. This is the book I am going to a retreat in June to finish, so it won't be out really soon. Maybe by the end of the year--maybe early in 2015. We'll see how it goes. I get all tickled inside when I realize how perfectly the cover reflects a scene from the novel. I am so blessed!

Okay, what do you think?

Harry or Ezra: The Problem of Minor Characters

I'm in the final stages of creating a new print edition for The Man from Shenandoah. As I was checking my personal copy of the first version for places I had marked that had errors of one type or another, such as a typographical error, misspelled word, point-of-view mistake, and the like, I came across a startling fact with vital importance to the story I'm writing now, but that's issue is for another post. The most important issue was a name that caught my eye, after I had created the portable document file (pdf) version to upload to CreateSpace. I stopped work as though I had been struck by lightning, and did not upload the pdf.

It was the name of a minor character. He'll never be a major character. He'll never have a book of his own. Why did his name strike me with such intensity that I put off the upload until I had a moment to do more research?

Because I was not sure if the name was correct.

You see, I remembered that I had changed it in the past. I knew at one point I had called him Ezra, if only on the character card bearing the names of his brothers and sisters. I had to be absolutely sure the name showing up in the new print edition of The Man from Shenandoah was the same name he'd carried in Spinster's Folly, or any other place he'd appeared in the "Owen Family Saga."

I've finished my research, and it shows that this young squirt carried the name "Harry" in Spinster's Folly as well as in the original print copy of The Man from Shenandoah. His name changed to Ezra in the ebook version, though.

[Marsha heaves a huge sigh]

I'll have to fix that sometime, but I won't rush right out and do it today. With a cast of hundreds of characters in "The Owen Family Saga," it's not a terribly important blemish, although it does raise a rash on my internal editor.

The upshot of this research expedition is that even minor characters can cause problems for a writer if the writer is inconsistent in keeping track of the masses. Harry Ezra Morgan, you're a snot-nosed little troublemaker!
~~~

Have you ever come across a name change in a novel as you're reading it? Did it irritate you, or spoil the story in your mind? Or were you compassionate and forgiving to the harried author?

Tell me what you think about typos and other errors in printed or electronic books. How do they color your reading experience?

Thank you!

Spinster's Folly: The Dream is Alive!

Spinster's Folly has now been published both in ebooks, at Smashwords.com and Amazon.com, and in a print edition, available right now at CreateSpace.com. The print version will be on Amazon.com soon, so watch for it (although I earn a better royalty if you get it at CreateSpace).

I'm very happy that this book is finally available in all versions. It will slowly make its way forward, out to all the online booksellers. In a few weeks' time, you can even urge your local bookstore to carry it, if you give the buyer the International Standard Book Number. It soon will be in the Ingram Book Company pipeline (they are the major distributor this side of the pond), as well as other entities, and should have wide distribution.

What is the International Standard Book Number or ISBN?

978-0988381001 

Armed with that number, my name, the book title (Spinster's Folly), and the word Ingram, you might try asking not only bookstores, but your library to order it.

Do you have anything to lose but a few minutes of your time?

Marie Owen visits me again

* Way back in 2009, some of my characters began to visit me, and I published accounts of those chats here. In fact, that was the reason I began this blog in the first place, as a location for me to write up those visits. First, some of the Owen boys came by, having slipped under the rainbow during a storm. We had a nice visit. Then their sister Marie knocked on the door in August, encouraging me to begin the book that would help her move on with her life. That, of course, is my forthcoming novel, Spinster's Folly. I guess she came by to check on the progress, because even though I've moved since her visit, she found me. It was after nightfall when I heard footsteps outside on the ramp up to my deck, and after a moment or two, I heard a rapping on the door. When I opened it, my security light came on and I knew Marie instantly, but I didn't know her clothing. It was nothing like what she'd worn before.

ME (flabbergasted to see her): Darling Marie! Come in, come in!

MARIE (Hiding her eyes from the bright light with her hand, then peering over her shoulder.): I have to hurry. I can't stay long.

ME: Whyever not? Let me just move these books off the chair. Sit down. What can I get you to eat or drink? (I move a pile of Civil War reference books onto the floor.)

MARIE (Moving hesitantly into the room, her hand still in front of her eyes.): I can't be gone long. He'll find out.

ME: Sit down, dear. (I feel my brow furrowing.) Who is "he"? You seem frightened.

(MARIE finally lowers her hand. We're both still standing.): Truth to tell, I am frightened, more than I've ever been.

ME (Gasping as I digest the fact that her face is mottled and colored with bruises.): What happened? Who's been beating you? Not your Pa!

MARIE: No, not Pa. He would never--

ME (Grabbing hold of her arms.): Who did this? He won't get away with it!

MARIE (Face crumpling.): I thought he loved me.

ME (Mumbling strong words under my breath.): I'll get a cold cloth.

MARIE: No. I can bear the pain a tad bit longer, if you'll just finish my book.

ME (Closing my mouth that's fallen open from amazement.): (Silence.)

MARIE: Please. (Her voice quivers, on the verge of losing control.)

ME: I'm-- I'm doing a final edit. It won't take lo--

MARIE: Now! You've got to publish it as soon as may be!

ME (Sinking into my chair.): Or . . . ?

MARIE: I'm obliged to stay in his power until folks can read the words. He won't release me until then. (She collapses into the chair beside mine.)

ME (My mouth is gaping open again. I close it with difficulty, knowing who "he" is, and what she's been through.)

MARIE: Please, Mom! (She's sobbing hysterically.)

ME (Shaken): I had no idea. I-- Some folks have read it. At least they've read the first draft. They said lovely things about it.

MARIE (Looking at me through teary eyes.): That must account for how I was able to get away for a spell. (She sniffs, somewhat less bereft.)

ME (Digging out a tissue and handing it to her. On second thought, I give her the entire box.): I'll get a hold of Linda on Monday. Tuesday at the latest.

MARIE: Who is Linda? (She blows her nose and drops the tissue into the waste basket beside her chair.)

ME: She's the very helpful lady who will arrange my words all pretty for the inside of the book. Can you hold out until she's finished with it?

MARIE (Blowing her nose again.): I'll venture to do it, Mom. Ask her to hurry, please.

ME: You hang on! I'll get a hold of Deirdra and we'll figure out what to put on the back cover, too.

MARIE (Brightening a bit.): Some of them lovely things the folks said?

ME: You may be sure of that!

MARIE (Letting out a gusty sigh and dabbing at her eyes.): It won't take long?

ME: Oh sweetie, we'll go as fast as we can! I promise you, as soon as Spinster's Folly is published, he won't be a-worryin' you no more.

MARIE (Slightly chuckling.): You sound like Ma. (Sniffs)

ME: You'll see her soon. It will be a favorable reunion. I promise.

MARIE: It makes my heart glad to hear that. (She suddenly turns her face toward the door.) Did you hear that? I'm obliged to leave! (She gets up and kisses me on the cheek.) Mind you, hurry! (She's out of my arms, out the door, and running off my deck before I can move a muscle.)

ME (My shoulders slump.): Oh my gosh! (I try to get my mind around the idea that characters remain in dire situations until their books are published. I turn to the laptop.) Oh my gosh. (I look at the words swimming before me.) I promise you won't be in pain very long. (My voice is hushed. I had no idea!)


*This is a work of fiction. I don't really talk to time-traveling characters from my novels. I do like them a lot, though, and am glad they pass under the rainbow from time to time to visit me in my own place and era. To order autographed copies of my novels, The Man from Shenandoah, Ride to Raton, and Trail of Storms, visit my website at marshaward.com.

Coming soon

I think I am close enough in the process of finishing to post a teensy bit of the front cover for my forthcoming novel, Spinster's Folly. You can see it over there in the sidebar:

The cover is progressing

Although I'm not ready to do a "reveal" yet, I'm delighted at the progress of the cover for Spinster's Folly. It won't be too much longer before I can show it off.

Something more to enjoy from Spinster's Folly

The course of writing a novel doesn't always progress on one continuous, straight path. Sometimes, you might be running along, working on Chapter 14, and a character speaks up with a tidbit of information that has to go into Chapter 2. That means a detour is in order, so you must jog over to a trail that takes you back to that place in the story so you can put it in. Then, while you're returning to the place where you left off, you might notice a character waving his arms at you to get your attention for a scene that has to be written in Chapter 9.

It doesn't always happen this way, even to the same author writing another novel, but it happens often enough that one has to be prepared to accept the delay, instead of being dismayed when such a thing does occur.

With that explanation, let me offer part of a scene that Julia Owen demanded that I write for Chapter 2.
~~~

Feeling the overwhelming fatigue brought on by two days of mourning, Julia Owen only half listened to her husband tell her his plan to leave early Thursday morning on a three-day journey to sell beeves. Getting to sleep was of higher importance than staying awake until Rod ran out of steam, turned on his side, and began to snore. She hoped this was not a night when Rod felt amorous. She had barely been able to go through the motions of her chores today, and had no strength left to spare for her husband's needs.

Then a question worked its way into the forefront of her mind. She opened one eye, waited for Rod to take a breath, and asked, "Why are you herding cows down to Chester Bates this week? I recall his letter made an offer to trade them for wheat. He won't be harvestin' for a month or more."

"I have a pressing matter to take up in that country, and I reckon it won't wait until then." Rod scratched his chest above the neck of his nightshirt. "I figure I may as well make one trip as two. Chester will bring us the wheat."

She whispered, "If you're goin' after James, that's entirely the wrong direction." Pain at the unexpected loss of her son made her body quiver.

"I know that, woman." Rod's voice had taken on the soft gruff tone he used in tender moments when he felt vulnerable.

Annoyance that he didn't expand his answer drove Julia to shift her weight, rise on her elbow, and open both eyes to stare down at him. "What aren't you tellin' me?"

After a long moment, Rod turned his eyes away and said, "I have an errand."

"Roderick Owen, don't you be speakin' nonsense to me. What errand takes you away from work at this season?"

When his hand flew to his head, she barked at him, "Don't be a-worryin' that scab or it won't never heal. What's the truth?"

"It's a little errand for Marie," he admitted, tucking his hand under the covers.

"Marie?" Surprised, Julia almost missed Rod's failure to explain himself further. When she had gathered her wits sufficiently to notice his silence, she poked him in the ribs. "What business does the girl have in the Cuchara country?"

Rod sighed. "She accused me of neglecting her welfare. She wants a husband."

"No!" Julia sat up.

"She made it plain she's woman-grown and expects me to get her one."

She looked at Rod. "You're not--"

Rod cut her off. "She said young Tom is twenty. I had no notion he'd got to that age."

Julia shook her head and sighed in turn. "Your matchmaking has an ill reputation." She sank back onto the bed. "Does she have her cap set for Tom Morgan?"

Rod shifted one of his legs. "I've had him in mind for years."

"I asked does Marie want him?"

He shifted the other leg. "She didn't say me nay." After another long pause, he continued, "I'll know more when I get the two in the same room."

"What?" Julia sat up again, her back stiff.

"Julie, shh."

"You're takin' my daughter down country with a passel of cows?"
~~~

Copyright 2012 Marsha Ward

I hope you enjoyed this little digression. The novel is coming along well, with over 75% written. I'm lining up "beta readers," who will each give the finished manuscript the once over, and offer me suggestions for places that need beefing up, or toning down, or deleting altogether. In the meantime, I have a cover designer working with me on the novel's cover, which is going to be spectacular. When it's all put together, I'll launch Spinster's Folly with a Book Blog Tour and other fun stuff.

Thank you for visiting. If you wish, please leave me a comment. Every writer needs feedback!

Marie wonders about her suitor pool

Here's a scene from Spinster's Folly that I'm playing with again.

The night before Rod Owen trailed his beef cows to the Cuchara, Marie tossed and turned. Julianna elbowed her once, then went back into slumberland, but Marie's mind seemed to bubble with imaginings like a pot boiling over a too-hot stove. It wouldn't allow her the relief of sleep.

She wondered whether she dreaded or anticipated the next few days. If Pa liked Tom's prospects and proposed to add him to the family, the young man's reaction would play a big part in Marie's future. He might accept Pa's suggestion with enthusiasm, and jump into making and carrying out plans for a wedding and a life together with Marie. If, on the other hand, Ed Morgan's son had no notion of marrying her, his disinclination could spell spinsterhood for her.

Who else was there for her to marry? She lay very still, searching every nook and cranny of her brain for prospects. She'd seen the Dominguez brothers once or twice when they had stopped in to water their horses as they traveled on their way to Pueblo town. Enrique and Patricio Dominguez cut blazingly romantic figures, with their wide-brimmed hats and differently-styled clothes, their teeth-flashing smiles and flirtatious comments. She thought the pair of them was tremendously exciting. Given the chance, which one would she choose to wed?

After thinking on the exotic brothers for a time, she sighed and discarded the wild idea of being courted by such a man, knowing Pa would never agree to a marriage in that direction. That left her with a suitor pool made up of Tom Morgan, grubby freighters from Pueblo town, hard-rock miners from the north and the west, or her father's cowhands.

Tom had his distinctions. Despite being a farmer, he washed his hands before eating and wore fresh clothing to social events. He kept his medium brown hair trimmed above his collar, and it was never greasy. He had his flirtatious moments, but he'd always treated her with respect. Maybe too much respect.

Marie turned on her side, and let her mind examine that topic. Tom had never sought her out as an object of courtship, although she suspected his pa and her own had intended for some years for them to marry one day. She and Tom had never discussed the subject. During their journey to the West, Tom had acted the same way toward her as he had toward Ellen Bates and Ida Hilbrands--both of them betrothed girls. Tom could be merry, but he could be boring, as well.

Enrique Dominguez would never be boring. She didn't know how much English he spoke or understood, but it would certainly be interesting, no, it would be exciting, to live in his house, learning a new language, having servants, being married. . . .

She inhaled sharply and pulled the quilt over her head. What was she thinking? She was as bad as Julianna, trying to picture what goes on behind a couple's closed door. She'd seen horses mating, and a human encounter must involve the same elements. That wasn't her business yet. She'd learn all about it first hand, once she married Bill.

Bill? The hot flush of burning cheeks drove her out from under the covers. I don't mean Bill. I mean Tom. Lawsy! What am I thinking? She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to banish the errant image that persisted in her brain of Bill Henry's contrite face when she'd lashed out in anger at him the morning her horse had bolted.

The image lingered, however. She could not banish it in favor of Tom's bland visage. Then a series of Bills lined up before her inner eye: Bill, looking stricken as she berated him, the color of his eyes deepening almost to black, as though he willed them to shelter his soul. Bill, saying, "I didn't mean you." Bill, his moustache twitching on the left side of his mouth as she turned away from him.

Marie shook her head, trying to drive the specters away. Bill Henry should not be in her mind when she was, in all likelihood, going to end up the bride of Tom Morgan.
~~~

How many sleepless nights did you endure, wondering about your future? Or are you still engaged in such a struggle?

I'm still alive

It's been a tough couple of months, trying to move and keep life going at the same time. I'm into my new home, but there's still a lot of stuff in the old one. Winter came and brought a couple of snowfalls, which makes it difficult to move things.

Anyway, as a reminder that I'm still here, I'm making a special offer:

From now until December 31, 2011, The Owen Family Saga Sampler is free at Smashwords.com. It contains three chapters each from the first three novels in The Owen Family Saga, plus a bonus look at the forthcoming Book 4: Spinster's Folly.

One reviewer says about my work: "Marsha Ward really does write Westerns with heart. And her Owen family saga is among the best you'll ever read. Learn what our ancestors did to build this land. Like the Man from Shenandoah. Highly recommended." ~Chuck Tyrell, author of The Prodigal

To get the free e-book, create a free membership at Smashwords.com, then use Coupon Code QL37G at checkout.

The Secret Projects Unveiled

I've been hinting all over the Internet about being engaged in a special or secret project. Well, I've finished it, and I'm back to writing Spinster's Folly.

What was I doing?

I was learning how to convert and upload manuscripts to the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing website. I then did the conversions and uploading of my three novels, several short stories, and a couple of special collections. See the results here.

Why did I delay this vital step in making my work available to huge segments of the reading public in the United States, the UK, and Germany? First of all, I had been told it was complicated and difficult. Secondly, I told myself I needed to finish Spinster's Folly before I learned how to do something else.

Then it became apparent to me that such a delay was silly, and in fact, was cutting into potential sales and extra income that I need. Once I determined that I should wipe out my folly, I decided to investigate the difficulty factor. Lo and behold, I discovered that with free software and careful attention to details (which I love), the process was well within my skill set.

Therefore, I converted and uploaded all three novels to the Kindle stores, as well as uploading Trail of Storms to Smashwords.com. Now all the novels are available to a much larger audience, and, I'm happy to report, there are sales being made!

Heeding the sage advice of one of my indie-publishing mentors, JA Konrath, I also put up several short stories and a couple of collections, including a sampler of chapters from the three novels of The Owen Family Saga. There will be more bundles in various configurations in the future.