Friday, September 19, 2014

A Serious Question

Tomorrow, I shall be participating in my first-ever author event. As, you know, an author.

It's a book fair at the public library.

Public. As in "open to."

That's right. Tomorrow, I shall be sitting at a table in the public library with copies of my novel to sell and bookmarks to give away—an idea which terrifies me.

But I'm going to do it anyway.

Unless I contract the Bubonic Plague before then.

Which probably won't happen.



So, in case I don't contract the Bubonic Plague, I have a question to ask of you wise, more-experienced authors...

What does one wear to a book fair when one will be sitting at a table selling copies of their novel and giving away bookmarks? (provided, of course, anyone wants one.)

I'm guessing my "I can kill you with my brain" tee shirt is out. As is my new "LEAVE ME ALONE" shirt—a gift from my sister and niece (they thought I could wear it to work. Which I will.). That pretty much leaves my selection of Harry Potter, Zelda, Hunger Games, Battlestar Galactica, Sherlock, Veronica Mars, and Game of Thrones tees.

Or what about one of my Care Bears, My Little Pony, Schoolhouse Rock, or Sesame Street tees.


I am such a geek.

I also have some Red Sox or Patriots tees. My Tom Brady jersey? Or perhaps an oversized Big Papi jersey?

I don't know—what do you think? Should I perhaps go shopping for something that doesn't have a cartoon character on it?

While you're mulling over that question, let me pose another one:

Say a person approaches the table at which I am sitting with my novels and my bookmarks and asks a question or otherwise expresses interest. Is diving under the table and hiding until they go away an acceptable response?

Please say yes.

On that note, I'm out of here. I get to go to my day job on my day off.

I am so very lucky.

Thanks for stopping by today. Have a wonderful weekend, all.

Oh, and if anyone out there would like an fancy Effigy bookmark of their very own, email me your address, and I'll send one out to you. (U.S. only, please)

Monday, September 15, 2014

Oh, How Shelfish Of Me (Part One)

As I mentioned last week, I'm helping out with the Shelfie Blogfest, the brainchild of author Tara Tyler. The other co-hosts, co-conspirators, and contributors are:

Heather M. Gardner
Christine Rains
Vikki Biram
CD Cofflet
Elizabeth Seckman
Rena Rocford

Here are the details:

Dates: Now through Monday, Oct 6
How To Enter: Take a picture of you and your book(s) - your favorites or your own novels. Or you can just arrange the books in a special way and take the picture - but you do get extra points for being in the photo.
Formats: Post on Twitter, Facebook, Blog - just make sure to include a link(s) to each for us.

Enter today for the chance to win some fabulous prizes!

Last week, I shared a shot of my Harry Potter shelves, and I'll be sharing some more shelfies as the week progresses. Today's featured books are some of those belonging to blogger friends:

Pop Travel by Tara Tyler

Maguire's Corner by Heather M. Gardner

Thanmir War by Loni Townsend

From the top:
Fault Line by C. Desir
The Next Door Boys by Jolene Perry
Cassa Star by Alex J. Cavanaugh
The 13th Floor Complete Collection by Christine Rains

That's going to do it for me today...Check back on Wednesday to see Part Two of Three of my Shelfie posts this week.

Have a terrific Monday, all.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

September Goals And A Few Other Things

Considering it's the tenth, I'm a little late with this post, but that's been the theme of things of late. If possible, I seem to be getting worse at time management. Not that I was ever all that good at it before, truth be told, but it feels like I am only ever efficient when I'm at my day job these days.


I really wish the opposite was true.

Anyway, first up is a review of the goals I set way back in August:

1. Walk, run, or bike at least 103 miles.

I killed this goal, logging a grand total of 131.5 miles. This was aided by a ten mile hike, and a pair of 15 miles bike rides while I was on vacation in Acadia. Thanks, Acadia!

2. Make some progress on Part Two of Second Nature.

At the start of August, this WIP's word count was sitting at 222,400. Now it's currently sitting at 225,504. Technically progress. I've been feeling stuck and a tad uninspired. I created yet another plan, and we'll see if this one sticks. Here's how the old storyboard's lookin' (see if you can spot the moment where I stop knowing what the hell is happening):

3. Read more books.

Yeah, this one didn't go as well. I read two books last month, which isn't terrible, but it's much lower than my average. There's just never enough time...and I'm an insomniac.

And now for the goals I've set for September (can you stand the excitement? I know I can't...)

1. Walk, run, or bike at least 66 miles.

Apparently, I really slacked off last September, so this month's mileage goal is pretty low. Which is nice considering how much I've been slacking off on the mileage front so far this month.

2. Part Two of Second Nature still needs to be finished.

The starting September word count is 225,504. Maybe it'll be higher come October. ( it really almost October?)

3. Survive First Public Author Appearance.

That's right...I have scheduled my first public author appearance. I'll be at the Local Author Book Fair at the library on September 20th. I have books to sell and bookmarks to give away. Well, provided they arrive in time. Maybe if they don't, I can stay home.

4. Read more!

I miss reading. I need to do more of it. Maybe I'll manage that in September.

5. Plan a trip to the Ren Faire.

A while back, I promised myself that if I managed to publish EFFIGY, I could buy myself either a double bladed battle axe, or a matching pair of short swords at the Ren Faire. Well, I managed to publish the book, and now I shall buy swords. Or an axe. I haven't really decided between the two yet, but I think the swords have a slight edge. I have a character who fights with two swords, so...Yeah. Probably the swords. Or maybe the axe.

And one more announcement before I go...

I'm helping out with the Shelfie Blogfest, the brainchild of author Tara Tyler. Other co-hosts, co-conspirators, contributors are Heather M. Gardner, Christine Rains, Vikki Biram, CD Coffelt, Elizabeth Seckman, and Rena Rocford.

Dates: Now through Monday, Oct 6
How To Enter: Take a picture of you and your book(s) - your favorites or your own novels. Or you can just arrange the books in a special way and take the picture - but you do get extra points for being in the photo.
Formats: Post on Twitter, Facebook, Blog - just make sure to include a link(s) to each for us.

Enter today for a chance to win some fabulous prizes!

I'm planning to do some other, better, photos later on for this blogfest, but I thought today I'd post a pic of my Harry Potter books. I am what my significant other calls a Completist, meaning I feel compelled to have complete sets of everything. Meaning I have the American, British, French, and Russian Harry Potter series. Most in paperback and hardcover. Because I am a freak. Anyway, here's a picture of my Harry Potter collection:

And that is going to do it for me today. This has been a very long post, and if you made it all the way to the end of it, I applaud you. I'll try to make the next one shorter.

Have a great day, all.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Friday, September 5, 2014

Cat Tales

I'm thrilled to be taking part in the Charity Cat Anthology Hop, the brain child of author Kyra Lennon.

The idea is to post a story, poem or interpretative dance (note: I could be wrong about that last one) with a cat in it, to be compiled and turned into an anthology to benefit a cat shelter.

I just so happen to be a fan of all four-legged creatures. (Eight-legged so much) Like April Ludgate said on an episode of Parks & Recreation, I, too, believe animals should be rewarded for not being people, so participating in this hop was a no-brainer. So, of course, Kyra Lennon has permission to use this story in the anthology.

I don't write short stories very often (read: pretty much never), but fortunately, I had written one. A true story that just so happened to involve my own menagerie:

Fat Cat
Scaredy Cat
Big Brave German Shepherd (left) and Gator Girl (right)

So here now, for your reading pleasure is my short story (approximately 1800 words), The Morning of the Mouse.


The Morning of the Mouse

The day began as any other day.

The Gator Girl sat poised, bedside, waiting for any sign of movement to take as an invitation to spring onto the bed and cuddle between her parents. The Big Brave German Shepherd lay on his bed on the floor, lamenting the hard truth that he was just too damn big to get up there without the aid of a crane.

Slowly, The Man got out of bed. The Gator Girl followed him as he shuffled across the room, dragging his feet in his search for clothing. The Gator Girl did not drag her feet. The Gator Girl never had dragged her feet in her entire life. She pranced.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap filled the air. The sound roused the Big Brave German Shepherd, who immediately came in search of his mother. The Woman was not amused. The Woman had been up late and had been hoping for a modicum more of sleep before being forced to face the day, so The Woman laid in bed, her eyes firmly closed in order to give off the illusion of sleep. The Woman had learned long ago to fake it until she could make it.

The Man, having finally gathered his clothing, left the bedroom in search of a shower. With his departure, the Gator Girl jumped on the bed and nestled close to The Woman. The Big Brave German Shepherd lay down as well, with a thud that shook the bed. Still, The Woman did not move.

She didn’t even move when the bedroom door re-opened and The Man said, “Hey.”

The Woman chose to ignore him, as did the Big Brave German Shepherd. The Gator Girl, who never had ignored anything in her entire life, leapt off the bed with joy.

“Hey,” The Man said again.

The Woman reluctantly opened her eyes and looked at The Man.

“There’s a mouse hanging off the shower curtain,” he said.

The Woman had to think about this. She understood all the words individually, but when put together in a sentence in the order in which The Man had placed them, they lacked all meaning.

“There’s a what where?” she asked.

“There’s a mouse hanging off the shower curtain.”

The Woman thought some more. Mouse. Hanging. Shower curtain. Huh.

“The cats are freaking out,” The Man continued.

Mouse. Hanging. Shower curtain. Cats.

“Wait—you mean a real one? A real mouse?” The Woman asked, fully coming out of the illusion of sleep.

“Yes, I mean a real mouse.” His tone minutely questioned The Woman’s intelligence. “Look. You can see it from here.”

With that, The Man opened the bedroom door. Both the Gator Girl and the Big Brave German Shepherd pranced now, alight with the possibility of breakfast. The Man, however, did not allow them to pass. The Woman lifted her head from the pillow and squinted into the bathroom.

The Woman was not wearing her glasses and was still slightly groggy from sleep, or the lack thereof, but after a moment of squinting and focusing, she saw a small, dark shape at the top of the shower curtain. After a little more squinting and a little more focusing, she could see that it was, indeed, a mouse hanging off her shower curtain.

The Woman said a not-nice word. The Woman actually said several not-nice words.

She sat up and took in the sight of the little brown mouse clinging for his dear little life at the top of her shower curtain. The two cats—Scaredy Cat and Fat Cat—sat below him, tails swishing and eyes riveted to their prey.

The Woman said more not-nice words.

“What do we do?” The Man asked.

“What the hell do you mean ‘we’?” The Woman responded.

The Woman normally liked to think of herself as one of those hairy-legged, bra-burning feminist types who needed a man like a fish needed a bicycle, but the truth remained that she shaved her legs year round, appreciated a bra’s support, and was not about to deal with a big, fat squirmy mouse and his little wormy tail.

No, The Woman was going to find herself a bubble and move into it. Immediately.

“How am I going to take a shower?” The Man said then.

“Yeah,” The Woman said, now entirely accepting the fact that the hope of further sleep had dissipated upon first uttering of the sentence ‘There’s a mouse hanging on the shower curtain.’ “That’s what we need to be concerned with right now. You showering.”

“I have to go to work.”

“You’re not leaving me with that thing in there.”

“I kill the spiders,” The Man said. “It’s only fair that you deal with the mice.”

The Woman said a few more not-nice words.

“What if we got a bucket from the basement,” The Man started.

“Again with the ‘we’,” The Woman muttered.

“And, like, knocked the mouse into it,” The Man finished. “Could he climb out, do you think?”

The Woman didn’t respond. No, she was too busy imagining the absolute horror of either standing in the bathroom holding a bucket with which to catch a big fat squirmy mouse and his little wormy tail, or knocking a big fat squirmy mouse and his little wormy tail into a bucket.

“I hate nature!” she proclaimed.

The Woman actually liked nature. The Woman actually loved nature. She enjoyed spending time in the Great Outdoors. She did not, however, enjoy it when the Great Outdoors was hanging from the shower curtain in her bathroom.

“Hey, are you going out today?” The Man asked.

“How else am I going to buy a bubble in which to live?”

“I’m thinking we’re going to need some mouse traps or something because if there’s one mouse, there’s probably—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” The Woman commanded as she climbed out of bed. “Just go close the bathroom door so I can get the dogs downstairs without interrupting the standoff.”

The Man laughed. “Could you imagine the Gator Girl with a mouse?”

“Yes,” The Woman said. “Yes, I could. Which is why, in the absence of any mouse removal solutions that don’t involve me holding a bucket, I want you to close the bathroom door.”

“The mouse could fit under a door.”

“What is wrong with you?” The Woman asked. It was possible that she had screeched the question, but she would never admit it. “Just close the damn door!”

The Man closed the damn door, and The Woman took the dogs downstairs to prepare their breakfast. While she did so, the Gator Girl puked. Twice. Because the morning hadn’t been awesome enough.

Meanwhile, The Man was pondering solutions. The cats could take care of the problem, he decided, and it would do Fat Cat some good to spend time chasing a rodent. The Woman wasn’t as convinced about the cats’ mousing abilities. Fat Cat had chased mice in the past but had only toyed with them a bit before letting them disappear back into whatever hole from which they had come. And as for Scaredy Cat—well, her name wasn’t exactly ironic. Still, The Woman had no better plan, so she kept her mouth shut and watched The Man work.

“How long do you think the mouse can hold on?” The Man asked.

“I don’t know,” was The Woman’s answer. “I don’t know how long he’s already been up there.”

“Well, he’s going to get hungry at some point.”

“Well, when faced with hunger or the two cats waiting to satisfy their own, I think the mouse just might choose hunger.”

“Right,” The Man said. “Hey, do you think I should put a ladder in here? Could the cats climb a ladder?”

The cats, in fact, could climb a ladder. The Woman had found that out one night when The Man had used a ladder to access the attic crawlspace, and Scaredy Cat had followed him up. But before Scaredy Cat could exit the crawlspace, the ladder had been taken away, leaving Scaredy Cat to cry forlornly until The Woman had found her. The Woman related this story to The Man, but he was not listening.

No, The Man was scheming.

He fetched his ladder and set it up in the bathroom for the cats’ use. Scaredy Cat was, perhaps, still traumatized from her previous experience with the ladder and, therefore, was uninterested in it now. Fat Cat didn’t comprehend its purpose, so The Man took it upon himself to teach Fat Cat to use the ladder.

The Woman would have sold her soul just then for a video camera.

But, as there was no video camera nor any deal-making demons present to help procure such a device, The Woman eventually drifted away to contend with the dogs’ other morning needs. The three of them were outside when she heard a high-pitched shriek coming from the house. She left the dogs in the yard and went back inside to investigate.

The Man met her at the top of the stairs. “Did you hear me scream?”

Against her better judgment, The Woman asked what happened.

“So, I put Fat Cat on the ladder,” The Man said, “on the second step, where it wouldn’t be as easy for her to get down, and she realized she was closer to the mouse, right? So she starts climbing up, and he falls—”

He falls. Oh joy.

“And he runs under the vanity—”

Under the vanity. Oh joy.

“And Fat Cat goes after him and was, like, battering him around, so he came out from the vanity, right? Then Fat Cat swatted him some more, but now he’s in the heater—”

In the heater. Oh joy.

“And Fat Cat has her head stuck under there,” The Man said. “You should come see it. It’s pretty funny.”

The Woman returned to the bathroom. Fat Cat, indeed, had her head wedged under the heater, her tail still swishing madly. Scaredy Cat, The Woman noted, was absent from the scene.

“He’s got nowhere to go now!” The Man said.

Satisfied at a job well done, The Man removed the ladder and went to work. The Woman reassured herself of Fat Cat’s well-being before removing herself to her office to check emails. In the middle of composing a message to a friend, The Woman heard a thud and the pitter-patter of angry four-legged mammals on the move. The sound cumulated in a loud crash, followed by silence. The Woman sighed and went to standing at the top of the stairs and cautiously peeking around the corner.

The bathroom was empty. Fat Cat’s orange-and-white stripped tail was slinking into the bedroom. The Woman followed and watched Fat Cat curl up in the middle of the empty bed for a nap. There was no sign of the mouse, leaving The Woman with the unsettling feeling that the big fat squirmy mouse and his little wormy tail had gotten past Fat Cat and was now, once again, running free on his little mouse feet somewhere within her walls.

“I hate nature,” she whined, slowly making her way back to the stairs.


About the Author:

Armed with a long and lasting love of chocolate, purple pens, and medieval weaponry, M.J. Fifield is nothing if not a uniquely supplied insomniac. When not writing, she's on the hunt for oversized baked goods or shiny new daggers. M.J. lives with a variety of furry creatures—mostly pets—in New Hampshire. Visit her online at


It seems weird to post my bio here, but I'm pretty sure I was supposed to. If I wasn't, I offer my apologies.

At any rate, I thank you for stopping by today. Please be sure to check out the other participants of this very worthy blog hop, and have a wonderful weekend.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Character Meet And Greet, Part Two

Today I am taking part in the Meet My Character bloghop. I was tagged twice, once by Heather Holden—whose web comic, Echo Effect, has become a must-read every Monday— and once by author Heather M. Gardner whose novel, Maguire's Corner, I very much enjoyed and whose sequel I am very much looking forward to reading.

I did this post once before with Effigy's main character, Haleine Coileáin, so today I thought I would feature the two main characters in Effigy's sequel, Second Nature—Cate and James. And even though I'm probably not supposed to have favorites, they're currently mine.

I often use this picture to represent these two characters,
though they don't have a romantic relationship.
It just feels like a Cate and James picture.


1. What is the name of your character? Is he/she fictional or a historical person?

Second Nature's main characters are Catherine "Cate" Cole and James ap Seoras. They are fictional, but considering the amount of time they spend shouting at me (and each other), they certainly feel real.

2. Where and when is the story set?

While the majority of the novel takes place in the medieval-esque fantasy world introduced in Effigy, a very small part takes place in modern day Boston and Maine.

3. What should we know about him/her?

Both characters can and do use sarcasm as a weapon and/or a defense mechanism. Both have suffered huge personal losses that have colored their outlooks. Neither one is particularly fond of backing down.

Also, Cate hates boats, while James has never been on one.

4. What is the main conflict? What messes up his/her life?

Even though neither of them wanted to be, they're both embroiled in in this epic battle between good and evil, and it sees them doing things they normally would never even consider doing, all in the name of survival.

And—for a while, anyway—Cate makes it her mission in life to make James absolutely miserable. Much to his chagrin, she's pretty good at it.

5. What is the personal goal of the character(s)?

To answer this question, here's a short excerpt from the manuscript:

"What do you want to know?" he asked.
"How I get out of here," she said. "How I get home."
James nodded. "Something we have in common, that."

6. Is there a working title for this novel, and where can we read more about it?

Normally, my WIPs go through several titles before I settle upon the one that fits, but Second Nature was named long ago by a old high school/college friend, and it's been called that ever since. (Thanks, Ben!)

You can read more about this project here on this blog, as it's becoming my main focus, or on my website.

7. When can we expect this book to be published?

Well, I'd really like it to be out late 2015, but since I haven't yet finished writing it, I'd say late 2016 is probably more likely. Anyone suggesting 2017 would not be accused of crazy talk.


And on that note, I'm out of here. I have a shift at the store calling my name. It's Labor Day, after all, so it only makes sense that I'd be laboring, right? Thanks again to Heather Holden and Heather M. Gardner for giving me the opportunity to talk about my characters today.

And thank you for stopping by today. Have a great Monday, everyone.