One MORE Giveaway

Yup. I’ve decided I need to add something to my list so here goes:

Winners will also be able to choose from Malinda Lo’s “Asha,” courtesy of Tessa at AndAnything : 

and – as much as I did enjoy it – I’m willing to give up my copy of “To Ride the God’s Own Stallion.” 

Just keep on commenting, feel free to tweet, facebook or blog about it and if you do, let me know. As per my original One Hundred Followers Post, I’ll give out extra points for each post.

To Ride The God’s Own Stallion

Diane Lee Wilson’s “To Ride The God’s Own Stallion” is the story of two boys, a horse and the destiny the three weave together within the Assyrian Empire.

I still wonder if that wide-spread equality is why I never felt as drawn to any of the main characters as much as I did when reading Wilson’s “I Rode A Horse of Milk White Jade.” Nonetheless, there were times it was difficult to put down  “To Ride God’s Own Stallion.” It is an enjoyable read, especially for boys or those who love a great horse story in an unusual setting.

What Do You Do On Overload?

Life has been a bit much recently, I hate to admit it. Don’t get me wrong, I know of many people in worse straights. My best friend just lost her husband, my mother-in-law is in the hospital with heart problems. My issues pale in comparison.

It’s just handling them is difficult and would be incredibly expensive without the generosity of my sister and her family. Let me back up.

December 23rd, I totaled our family car. If nothing else, it was certainly a bummer, but we were blessed in that no one in the entire five-car-pile-up was injured. While we waited three weeks for our over-worked and under-staffed insurance agency to respond, I had to drive my husband’s manual transmission car. Since I have half of an ankle missing, the bone has threatened to break for years and it became increasingly obvious that the stick shift would do the trick if I kept driving it.

It began to look like we’d either have to shell out money for a rental or I’d have to keep going until I couldn’t. Quite possibly breaking a bone while behind the wheel. Hence, the generosity of my sister; she loaned me her automatic. My ankle still hurts five weeks after the accident, but it has improved and has not broken for which I’m more grateful than I can express.

Then the much-aligned stick-shift’s transmission died and the car with it. It will cost more than it’s worth to fix the Honda. We now have no automobile of our own and I’m once again reduced to playing taxi-mom via the borrowed car. This brings me up to today.

Monday morning, I need to somehow find time to take my husband to work, get the pink-eye infected daughter to a clinic or doctor and see a family friend interested in selling me her car. The latter will be a HUGE blessing if it comes to fruition, but I still find myself wondering how I’ll make it all happen AND find time to do what I want, which brings me to today’s question:

What happens to your writing when you’re overwhelmed? Do you still work? Do you somehow click into fifth gear and get more productive, or do you have to set it aside and handle life?

Excerpt Monday: New First Chapter

For those of you who have read my first Excerpt Monday release, this is my newest attempt at a rewrite. I would REALLY love suggestions/critiques.

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate just an writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

And without further delay or procrastination, here are my first five pages:

MOURN THEIR COURAGE

By

VICTORIA DIXON

Xing Dynasty: In the Tenth Year of Rebuilt Tranquility

Chapter One

Liu Jie had known for months that war brewed beneath the surface of his quiet country. And now it has come.

He closed the door of the room he and his family shared. The clamor of voices from the inn’s first floor enveloped him in an instant. It was twice as loud as when they’d arrived at the Peach Orchard Inn last night. When he’d read the notice.

Servants took long poles and, from hooks above the railing, lowered paper lanterns. The lanterns were a novelty that had not yet come to Jie’s homeland and he observed with interest as the servants lit the bright yellow globes and rehung them. 

The fragile lights swayed as he passed. He stared over the railing at the crowd and grimaced. The room was packed with people vying for space to read the Imperial summons tacked onto the wall behind the bar.  

All I wanted was a cup of rice wine and a meal. He sighed and went downstairs.

Farmers and merchants jostled one another in the aisles. Shouted drink orders and clattering dice assaulted his ears. He stepped off the landing, breathing in the smells of heated wine and steamed vegetables.  

He desperately wanted to talk and laugh with his oldest brother, Mihei. But Mihei was dead. Killed by raiders when Jie was a child. He shook himself free of his thoughts. Long ago he promised his wife he would leave the past where it lay and not resurrect his lost loved ones. Never an easily kept vow, it seemed more difficult than usual now that he stood on the brink of a war where he might lose more family.

Scores of men gathered at the bar. They noted his rank cap and a few left to make room for him. “It’s not necessary,” Jie protested. He gestured for them to sit beside him. One of the men glanced again at the colored bands on his Chuntze cap. The hat was black and sported yellow silk bands for nobility, blue for mastery of martial arts. The man bowed, walking backwards into the crowd. 

 I should have taken the cap off before I came in. Too late now. He caught the innkeeper’s attention and ordered his meal. Then he reread in a glance the notice that would change the lives of so many.

             “The Son of Heaven requires the aid of all men as sons might come to their father. Yellow Turban rebels assault the people and threaten the capital. All districts report.” The crimson ink of the Imperial Chop blazed in a corner.

If he could reach the rebels, and talk to them…. He shook his head. Regardless of how they came to be traitors, he must plan how to stop them. 

Jie sat at a small table. A group of boisterous young farmers sat at a nearby table and a game of sixes commenced with a clatter of dice.

Voices and noise blended into a monotonous drone. When the innkeeper brought him warmed rice wine and a plate of dumplings, he barely tasted the food. Instead, he used his chopsticks and wrote plan after plan in the congealing sauce. He abandoned every scheme.

Each strategy required him to send spies out to learn about the Yellow Turbans. Were they merely criminals, stealing food and clothing, or were they traitors raising an army to overthrow the Emperor, Jie’s nephew? 

This information seemed necessary to Jie, but gaining it did not respond to his Emperor’s summons. Jie might have saved countless people if he had reached his nephew a month ago. Now, the Son of Heaven demanded that Jie attack his countrymen. He committed treason if he acted counter to Imperial commands.

He must either go to the capital and enlist, or gather an army from the countryside and lead men into battle as ordered. 

He glared at his useless plans and groaned.

“Why are you sighing?”  A meaty hand descended on Jie’s shoulder.  “You’re a martial master. You know how to respond.”

Jie took his cap off, turned and looked up.  Did this man believe Jie was a warmonger? “My people are on the other side of the Dragon Back Mountains.  I can only offer myself.”

The warrior scrutinized Jie, then grinned and clapped him on the back.  “Perfect. May I join you?” 

Jie nodded and the warrior sat opposite him. 

The innkeeper brought two large cups filled with wine.

The warrior drank half of his in a gulp.  “I am Tong Zhang.” He pushed aside Jie’s plate to make room for his cup.  “Noticed you were making plans just now. Let’s talk war.” He pointed at the notice.

Something about Zhang touched a memory.  Not his bristling beard or forehead-spanning eyebrow, but his presence. Jie couldn’t place it, but the thought soothed like silk and was as hard to break.  He pushed it aside.

“I won’t ask men to serve while their families lose their lands, but paying farmers to fight will consume my funds. Without extra money, I won’t be able to feed them.”

“You’ve got what’s required, Chuntze.” Zhang pointed to Jie’s cap.  “You’re a strategist. I’m a butcher, so I’ll convince the butcher’s guild to feed us. I’ll destroy things.  You plan how I’ll do it.”

Jie chuckled and nodded at this heaven-sent partner. With Zhang as his support, Jie could command as he wished without enlisting.  But was Zhang trustworthy?  Was he a leader?  

Jie unraveled the skein of thought from moments before.  He knew why Zhang made him laugh.  Zhang reminded him of his brother, Mihei. 

“There is one thing I need to know.” Zhang glared at him. “Do you have a problem with lower classes?”  

Jie snorted.  “You speak the language of your Emperor, you live in his country. You could be my brother.” Zhang beamed and Jie sipped his wine. “Tell me, where were you going before this evening?”  

“Zufen.  Where else should the finest warrior in the land go?” Zhang pounded the table.  “Wine!  I’m almost dry!”  

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers

Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

And just as a reminder, please make sure to sign into the contest I’m sponsoring this month, make a comment and maybe win some cool stuff. If you’ve already done so, make a comment here and you’ll score some extra points.

Book Review: Saving Fish From Drowning by Amy Tan

Many thanks to Stephanie Barrows, one of two book winners last year who agreed to review the books they won. Today’s review is on “Saving Fish From Drowning” by Amy Tan.




Saving Fish From Drowning was my first novel by Amy Tan. Admittedly, most of my literary brushes with Chinese-American culture have come through either movies (coming of age stories and martial arts fantasies) or historical novels (Snowflower and the Secret Fan). 

This novel was an unexpected pleasure because it hosted two aspects I adore about Asian culture: the supernatural in everyday life and the immigration experience. An egocentric art-dealer-turned-murder-victim-then-ghost tells the story of a group of travelers who head to China and disappear. 

Throughout the narrative, our guide shows us aspects of her personal story with characteristic eccentricity. When a newspaper reports her murder, she complains about the article and pictures used to display her body. Afterwards, our protagonist’s description of her own funeral and its attendees offered a humorous look into the art world and the personalities that inhabit it. 

Saving Fish From Drowning also fed this writer’s appetite for psychological insights through internal dialogue and flashbacks. Ms. Tan’s use of graphic detail in describing the protagonist’s murder, for example, is done with a coroner’s eye and a feminine touch.

In the future, I highly recommend Ms. Tan keep writing novels of this nature. Not only are they entertaining, but their aftertaste of the supernatural mixed with the everyday are enough to bring even a finicky reader back to the literary table.