Work in progress: update!

Work in progress: update!

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As you may or may not know from following this blog I’ve been working on my young adult novel, The Other Side of the World off and on since 2015 (June 27, 2015 to be exact – I checked Microsoft Word). That’s approaching three years, people! During that time I almost gave up on the project, but am happy to report it has found life again. I recently completed the Writing in the Margins mentorship which really kicked my butt and helped me see the manuscript in a new way. I did some major rewrites and am now on the hunt for a literary agent.

You can read the full description of the project here. The novel has changed a ton and I’m happy to report it features a biracial main character (half Filipino, half white) like me 🙂

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What I’m Into This Month

What I’m Into This Month

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It’s that time again to talk about what I’m reading, writing, and watching this month.

What I’m reading:

  • The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Unabridged, people! This is not my usual read, but my husband ADORES this book and can’t wait until I finish reading it. It is interesting and in general I’m familiar with the story, having seen an adaptation starring one of my favorite actors Jim Caviezel. But it’s much longer than an average book. I just hope I finish by the end of the year.

What I’m watching:

  • The Wolfpack, a documentary about a group of brothers who grew up sheltered in an apartment in New York who have a passion for movies. Completely fascinating and available on Netflix right now.
  • Newtown, another documentary (apparently they are my thing this month) about the town of Newtown, CT and how they’ve dealt with the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shooting. I make it a point to not get political on my web site, but this is really an eye-opener about how we need some reform to gun control laws. You will need tissues for this one.

What I’m writing:

  • A companion to One Night that follows Ronnie and Thompson into college. Tentatively titled The Only Thing. Thompson finds himself in another romantic predicament. More details coming soon.
  • I’m also editing my YA novel that’s set in Serbia. Why set a novel in Serbia you ask? My husband in Serbian and Serbia is a beautiful country that often gets a bad rap in the media.

If you want to be the first to know about new book news and read a preview of One Night, sign up for my email list.

P.S. I am giving away a signed copy of One Night over at my friend Melissa’s blog, So About What I Said. Be sure to enter and check out her great web site!

 

What I’m reading, writing, and watching this month

What I’m reading, writing, and watching this month

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Okay friends, it’s been a while since I’ve done a post like this. My apologies.

What I’m reading:

  • House of Bradbury by Nicole Meier. It’s women’s fiction about a woman who buys Ray Bradbury’s old house in southern California. It’s a great read and can I give a shout out to Nicole here who graciously answered some questions for me recently about her publishing experience! Such a lovely person.
  • My Beautiful Life by Mina Dobic, a true story about a woman who cured her cancer by eating a macrobiotic diet. Fascinating. Thanks, hubby for the book recommendation!
  • Tell Me Three Things by Julie Buxbaum, contemporary YA about a girl who’s forced to live with her stepmother across the country. Just got this for Kindle on sale for $1.99.

What I’m writing:

What I’m watching:

  • We are binge watching Caribbean Life at my house. It is one of my greatest ambitions in life to live by the ocean one day. When I’m by the ocean I feel like I’m home!
  • I am sad and relieved that the first season of This is Us is over. Tuesday night has been my weekly cry session since this show started. I think it’s because the show feels too much like real life!
Free preview of One Night

Free preview of One Night

Hi all, to celebrate Halloween I’m offering a free preview of One Night! You can read it below 🙂  To buy One Night go here. To be the first to know about new books sign up for my email list here.

One-Night-Cover

Chapter 1

I had a decision to make: Elvis or Mr. Wonderful. I loved listening to Mr. Wonderful tear apart idiotic business ideas; more than that, I admired him because he wasn’t afraid to tell the truth. But I’d stayed home the last three Friday nights watching Shark Tank with my parents, and I couldn’t do it for another week.

I drove my rusty white Corolla toward the Tiki House, a family restaurant on Honolulu’s northwest side that was a cliché of itself. My heart pounded and my palms soaked the steering wheel with sweat. My body was telling me not to do this, but I kept going. I parked fifty feet away from the entrance and turned off the engine. The Tiki House shared a plaza with Starbucks, T.J. Maxx, and a movie theater, and had achieved a certain level of infamy. It was where everyone took out-of-town guests from the mainland who demanded an “authentic” Hawaiian experience. There were countless other restaurants in Honolulu with better food and less-tacky furnishings, but the Tiki House was an event tourists lived for.

I considered pulling out of the parking lot and going home, but I’d clocked out of Super Kmart six minutes early to be there on time. I got out and walked up to the bamboo front door. There was a hot pink flier taped to the outside promoting Elvis night featuring Eddie King, Harold Rogers, and Johnny Lee Young.

I’d watched Eddie King once with my ex-girlfriend Caroline and her friend Becca. Caroline loved Eddie and had only missed two of his shows in the past year. On Wednesday she’d posted on Facebook that she’d be at tonight’s performance. I was counting on it. I hoped she’d see me across the room and then walk back into my arms as if nothing had changed, as if the Worst Valentine’s Day in History™ had never happened. It was a long shot, but it was a shot I had to take.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Ronnie. “Are you sure you can’t meet me at the Tiki House?”

“Can’t. It’s mahjong night at casa de Medina, and I gotta watch Ella. Sorry, T-dawg.”

God forbid Ronnie call me by my actual name, Thompson. It was always T-dawg, T-money, T-dubs, or my personal favorite, T-cup, as if we were popular jocks with cheerleader girlfriends who could pull off such ridiculous nicknames. Instead, we were scrawny AP class nerds who played NBA Live instead of real basketball.

“Can’t you just put your sister in her playpen?” I asked. “Have Barkley watch her?”

Barkley was his family’s neurotic West Highland terrier. He weighed all of eighteen pounds, but had the guard dog tendencies of a Rottweiler.

“That’s cruelty to two year-olds,” he said. “Besides, you know how I feel about your quest to get the CW back.”

“Who says I’m trying to get her back? Maybe I’m just embracing the pain. Wallowing if you will.”

“Yeah right. I think we might need to have an intervention soon. You are very close to hitting rock bottom, my friend. You might already be there.” He hung up before I could think of a witty comeback.

Inside, the Tiki House looked like the island section of a party supply store had thrown up. Magentas, purples, and greens practically punched you in the face as you walked in. Synthetic palm trees and multi-colored lights on strings multiplied in places they shouldn’t, like the urinals in the restroom. The female wait staff wore grass skirts over their khaki shorts and all the employees draped rainbow leis around their necks. The food was so-so at best. The fries weren’t salty enough and were often undercooked, and locals knew it was a bad idea to order the cheeseburger, or any beef dish they had on offer.

I sat at a small round table meant for two and ordered a chocolate shake and fish tacos. I scanned the bamboo- and palm-encrusted room, hoping I’d see Caroline’s wavy red hair in the crowd. Caroline had an unrivaled obsession with Elvis and I had what was probably, in retrospect, an unhealthy obsession with her. I loved that she didn’t worship boy bands like other girls or listen to obscure alt-rock bands that were supposed to be cool. After we became a couple, “Sweet Caroline,” a song I had loathed previously and that I was sure had no business being played for anyone except the unfortunate souls who actually attended Neil Diamond concerts, became my ring tone. It was in my top twenty-five most played songs on iTunes, sitting comfortably in the number three spot. I had every word memorized and sang the song with gusto whenever my phone went off, grinning like an idiot when it played. Elvis songs held five of the twenty-five spots, another side effect of Caroline. Caroline loved Elvis so much that I myself became enamored with him. I bought his CDs, read up on his life (Me & A Guy Named Elvis: wow, what a book), and watched his movies, even though they all followed a similar formula:

 

Elvis meets girl + Elvis punches guy in dancelike fight over girl + Elvis wins girl + catchy songs = cash cow

 

I noticed I was one of maybe six males in the restaurant. There was a table full of women who, based on their soft bodies and day glo crocs, had to be moms. They were acting like they didn’t get out much, shrieking and laughing as if everything that was being said was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. This, I knew, was statistically impossible. There were groups of younger females in their twenties wearing high heels, low-cut shirts, and bright red lipstick, with the occasional couple thrown into the mix. There was also an old couple with silver hair at a table near the stage with a large pepperoni pizza and margaritas in front of them. For a second I thought about leaving, but didn’t. I wanted to “run into” Caroline and this was the only way to do it.

The first guy to come out was Eddie King. When he walked onto the wood stage, one of the moms let out a shrill whistle. Eddie King was young, twenty-something, and wore Elvis’s trademark gold lamé jacket over tight black pants. His outrageously poufy black hair was clearly a wig. But, as he swiveled his hips across the stage, the ladies in the Tiki House went ape-shit, especially the girl in the barely-there lime green shirt who grabbed at him like he was the King himself, digging her long pink nails into his right arm. I scanned the crowd again for Caroline, but didn’t see her.

Eddie sang three songs before making way for the next Elvis, Harold Rogers, who was ancient and out of shape. His wig had seen better days and hung loosely against his wrinkled brow. Gobs of flesh prayed to be freed from his synthetic navy blue jumpsuit. The rhinestones on his suit were one false move away from popping into an unintended firework display of silver sequins and glitter. I almost hoped it would happen since the show was guaranteed to be spectacular, but I really didn’t want to see this guy without any clothes on. His chest heaved with exhaustion as he plodded through “Suspicious Minds.” Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and hit the stage like fat drops of rain.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” he gasped at the end of his set.

I asked my waitress for a refill of my shake before the last guy came on. I didn’t get to eat junk food a lot since mom was the queen of low-fat, organic, non-GMO eating. She blogged about clean living in addition to doing her day job (she did something with spreadsheets for the Four Seasons Resort, I still wasn’t sure what exactly) and had made a nice side-business of it. She sold enough advertising to subsidize our astronomical Whole Foods’ bills.

The last Elvis was older than Eddie King, maybe thirty, and had a spark in him that made the women of the Tiki House swoon. His thick black hair was real—it wasn’t clipped on and fake like the last two guys’. His jaw and nose were narrower than Elvis’, but his eyes were just as big. He wore a black button-down shirt, matching slacks, and a yellow lei, and from the way he shuffled his feet as he performed “Jailhouse Rock,” I could tell he’d been doing this a long time. Unlike the previous performers, he ventured off the stage and into the heart of the restaurant, stopping to greet every patron as he sang. He moved with the kind of confidence and charisma I could only dream about. He locked eyes with me as he approached my table and winked. He tipped his head, spun around, and continued on.

He waved to the old couple with the pizza at the table in the front and returned to the stage before breaking into a song I’d never heard before, one that hadn’t made its way into my larger-than-average Elvis catalog. It started with a grand crescendo to a high note that made the hairs on my arms stand up, before dropping back down to a low register. It was about being lied to and led on, but loving the girl anyway. There were no backing vocals or gratuitous instrumentation to tone down the emotion. It was just this guy in black putting his heart on the floor.

He sang about being blindsided by his one true love, which I knew something about. The song was simple—there weren’t any extended metaphors or complicated language—but it was effective. I could tell by the way he clutched at his shirt that he’d lived through what the lyrics spoke of. Either that or he was one hell of an actor. I tried looking up the song on my phone but, like most things at the Tiki House, the Wi-Fi was terrible. I’d been listening to so many sad songs in recent weeks about regret, loss, and heartache—even country songs about drinking your problems away—but this one was different.

“I’m Johnny Lee Young, everybody,” he said at the end of the song, a slight drawl in his voice. “Though not so young anymore. I’ll be here all night. Please stick around for my second set.”

The moms’ night out table whooped with delight. The young girls in heels whistled.

As Johnny Lee Young stepped down from the stage and made his way to the bar, I zoomed past the rowdy ladies and accosted him.

I had to know the name of that song.


To order One Night visit this link.

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Six things I learned in my first month as an independent author

Six things I learned in my first month as an independent author

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In an effort to pay it forward to my fellow writers, here are the six things I learned in the month since One Night was released.

1. Tell everyone you know about the book, no matter how self-serving it may seem. Another way to say this is use your network. Telling everyone you know will definitely lead to a spike in sales and could connect you with some key players in the publishing industry. When I told one of my colleagues about my book he connected me with one of his best friends who happens to be the executive editor of a major review publication and an author. I have no idea if knowing him will help me sell books, but it’s good to know him regardless. The more people you have to bounce ideas off of, the better.

2. Be persistent and creative when it comes to setting up events. When I started trying to plan events before my book was released I was met with more opposition than I expected. Silly me, I thought it would be easy to book an event at a library. Despite some setbacks, I continued reaching out to other organizations: writing groups, independent bookstores, rotary clubs, high schools. Not everyone responds favorably, but when they do it definitely brightens my day. When they offer to pay you it’s even better.

3. Your first book signing will be brutal, even if you set realistic expectations. I told my husband if I could sell one book to a person who didn’t know me I’d consider that a success. I beat my goal by several copies, but still. Those first twenty minutes when no one was coming into the store really sank my spirits for a bit.

4. Try everything when it comes to marketing, within budget of course, and if it works do more of it. That’s really all there is to it. I’ve found that a promotion is only worth my time if it results in sales, reviews, email signups, or significant traffic to my web site. Significant for me is defined as 30-50% more page views and visitors than I get on an average day.

5. If you are mailing copies of your book within the United States tell the post office worker you want to send it via media mail. This is oftentimes half the price of regular postage, sometimes even less. I discovered this on accident when the lady at the post office asked if I had a book in the package I was mailing to a giveaway winner.

6. When you’re doing everything yourself, the wins are that much sweeter. When you get your first five-star review or an email from a reader who doesn’t know you you’ll be reminded of why you decided to do this in the first place. When someone who bought your book online comes to your book signing just to have you sign it (the same brutal book signing mentioned above) you’ll feel like your hard work hasn’t been for naught.

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September Updates

September Updates

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Okay friends, from now on I’m just calling these posts Deanna’s Updates since they’re not necessarily running monthly lol.

First things first – the ebook version of One Night is on sale for 99 cents! This is a great price if you’re on the fence about trying it and also if you know a friend who might like it. The reviews have been great so far. Here’s a nice write up by Lynda Dickson over at Books Direct.

What I’m Reading:

  • The Memory Box by Eva Natiello. This thriller about a suburban mom who basically goes insane (or does she?) kept me turning the pages. This novel also recently hit the NYT bestseller list. If you love books like Gone Girl check it out.
  • The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. This is about a kid who gets bullied on an Indian reservation and later goes to an all-white school. I just started it, but will finish it this week. Can I say I LOVE the title? The drawings in the book are great, too.
  • The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. I picked this book up last year when I was visiting the Hemingway House in Key West where EH spent some of his time. I’m sorry to say I still haven’t read it yet.

What I’m Watching: 

  • 90 Day Fiancé. This show. Maybe I can relate since I’m married to an immigrant. The personalities on this show are ridiculously compelling. LMAO during the whole thing.
  • America’s Got Talent. Granted this show just wrapped, but still. I used to be a big American Idol watcher but haven’t enjoyed it much the last few years. Can I just say Simon Cowell and the talent show format are definitely back! Check out the winner Grace VanderWaal here. The way she plays that ukulele kills me! In a good way.

What I’m Writing:

  • I’m working on a new novel set in Serbia. I tend to get inspired when I travel. It’s about a kid named Marko who gets into a strange predicament. I’m not ready to share the plot details yet but will soon!

If you want to get more updates like these and be the first to know about new books, sign up for my email list.

Five things you need to know know about One Night

Five things you need to know know about One Night

To celebrate One Night’s release I wanted to tell you five things you need to know about the novel.

  1. If you’re tired of all-white casts in YA this is a great book for you. As Portland Book Review states, “There are plenty characters of color which does not happen often in YA lit.”
  2. If you’re tired of books set in New York, Chicago, or L.A. this is a good book for you. One Night is set in Honolulu which is one of the best destinations in the world in my humble opinion.
  3. If you love music, especially old music, this is a great book for you. One Night has a lot of Elvis references that allude to his music and acting career. Even if you hate Elvis it might make you a convert.
  4. If you are tired of the absent/crappy parent trope in YA this is a good book for you. Parents aren’t perfect, but I think there are quite a few of them out there who are trying their best – a lot of current YA doesn’t depict this, but One Night does.
  5. If you still aren’t ready to buy One Night, you can try the first chapter free when you sign up for my email list.

Release day post

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