Tag Archives: #booklover

#LongandshortReviews 8.7.19 #Wednesdaybloggingchallenge

 

Books I loved but never wrote reviews for is today’s #L&SR topic. I had to think about this one. Really think.

In no order, here are the books I loved, wished I’d reviewed, but didn’t — for whatever reason!

  1. The Little Engine that Could. Best book about self motivation ever published.   
  2. Write Naked, by Jennifer Probst. A very well written, detailed road map on what not to do – and do! – in the publishing business. I carried the print book copy with me from NH to a Denver conference just so Jennifer could autograph it for me.
  3. New York to Dallas. JD Robb. In my humble opinion the best IN DEATH book. Why I never wrote a review is a mystery, considering I’ve mentioned it in about 50 blogs as being my favorite addition to the series!
  4. Shanna by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss. My first “adult” romance, i.e. one that had SEX in it!

Click on the Long and Short Reviews Wednesday Blogging challenge to see what the other authors in this challenge have to say: L&SR

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A little #preHoliday #booksale #99cents

So excited to announce that Gia San Valentino’s story is on sale ( ebook only) until 11.8.18 from The Wild Rose Press. If you plan on reading CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS when it releases on 12.12.18, read this one first!! Both books are stand alones ( you don’t have to read one to know what’s going on in the other) but Gia’s story was so much fun to write because it’s a mistaken identity trope!

Here are the buy links for A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS.  99 cent sale is on now, until 11.8.18 so order yours today!

Amazon

And when I’m not having a book sale, find me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

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On why I write it all down….

The prompt/question this week is do I keep a journal or diary.

Duh!!! Of course I do. I’ve been a life-long diarist since I was given my first “big girl” diary at the age of 8.

It was a 3×5 sized, hardbound book, complete with it’s own lock and key, hundreds of sheets of lined paper, and Barbie pink, my signature color. I kept the key on a ribbon that perpetually hung from neck. I wasn’t going to let anyone get a hold of that key and find out all my deepest, darkest, secrets, my newest boy crush, or my thoughts about myself.

I got to the last page by my tenth birthday. At that birthday, I received a new one – a little bigger at 4×6, but still pink, keyed, and the paper was lined.

I filled that one up by before birthday # 12.

I was a very diligent writer back then. I sat down on my bed most nights and just wrote. Anything. Stuff about how my day had gone, what teacher had reamed me for talking in class – this was a common occurrence and all my report cards back then had one common theme “Margaret-Mary needs to learn to sit quietly when she is done with her work, and not visit with the other children. She tends to be done faster than everyone else and has a tendency to disrupt the others who are still working.”

I would write about tv shows and the latest plotlines for my favs like Hawaii 5-0 ( the original one), The Brady Bunch ( hated Marcia AND Jan), Love American Style ( I learned everything I ever needed to know about sex with that show!).

I’d write about new books I’d read. Nancy Drew, Trixie Beldon and Agatha Christie were my absolute favorites.

I wrote a lot about what I was feeling at the time. My preteen, then Tween, then full teen angst was real, bold, and vibrantly displayed in the pages of my Barbie pink journal. Inadequacies about my body, my personality, my basic worth, were all tortuously categorized and detailed in vivid, descriptive words.

By the time I was in college, I was still writing down my thoughts and using a journal for an emotional outlet, a friend, and a confidant. The fact that the pages never offered advice, censure, or any kind of validation to my thoughts, didn’t seem to matter at the time.

Fast forward a few years and I got married, then pregnant. While I was waiting for my daughter to be cooked, I started a new journal just for her. It detailed all her vitals and personal stuff, how she was doing in utero – how I was, too. We didn’t know the sex and kept it unknown until she popped out. From day one of her actual life on earth, I started a new journal for her, again detailing all the events in her life, the milestones, my hopes and dreams for her.

I stopped keeping a diary for her when she started doing her own journaling at 7 years old.

What’s that dopey expression about apples and trees? Black pots and kettles?

Let’s see what the other authors in the hop think about diaries, journals, and writing all your thoughts down for prosperity.

Click the link here: MFRW AUTHOR HOP

 

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