For my book Midnight Playground: Where the Soul Plays, I offer this explanation to the ebook readers. I noticed the formatting difference when I looked at a copy on a friend's Nook. I don't know how to have it changed or if it can. So in light of that I thought I'd offer a little explanation to help in case you are confused.
The main character Simone is a writer (surprise!) and she has a blog called midnightplayground.com. Her blog posts are separated out by solid lines and have dates. These posts give you the reader an insight into what is going on in her mind during the story.
She also (which you find out in the book) wrote a book after Brian left her five years ago called Midnight Playground: Where the Soul Plays. There are three "chapters" from that book inside this story. In the print version, those chapters are separated by a different font and design. Unfortunately that didn't happen in the ebook. You know you are reading a chapter because they start with the title Midnight Playground: Where the Soul Plays and then give you the Chapter and the title of that Chapter (they are Counting Cars, Playing the Midnight Blues, and Two Thousand Steps). These 'chapters' give you insight on Simone's past.
I hope that helps and that I've not made it any more confusing.
Happy Reading, enjoy the Playground.
I had to step away from Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram because I can’t stop the tears from pouring from my eyes. Reading the stories of why women and men are voting today for Hillary is inspiring and gives me hope that the hatred that has spewed from the Republican party for over twenty years may have reached its limit.
My hands shook as I put my ballot in the counting machine. I choked on the frog in my throat as I passed other women dressed in white entering the polling place. I exchanged knowing, secret glances in the elevator with other women dressed in white and pantsuits. It was the unspoken, “I got your back, sister!”
I sat in my car and hunted for some tissue. This, I was not prepared for. The emotional reaction at the historical significance of voting for the first female president of the United States.
I cried for my daughter who should never have to wonder if a woman can be president, who should be free to live her life how she wants to and to love whomever she wants to without fear of reprisal from the small-minded and petty.
I cried for my mom who told me that it wasn’t until 1992 when she was able to get a car loan all by herself without having to have her husband’s signature, too. Ironically, I’d already purchased my first car and qualified for a loan before my mother.
I cried for my deceased grandmothers who lived long enough to vote for the first African American president but not long enough to vote for the first woman president. Oh, how happy they’d be today. I cried for them because they were trailblazers in their communities and in their own occupations. My maternal grandmother, Nelle, would proudly state how she was the first female on the executive payroll at Brown Shoe company. Growing up, I heard this story over and over, but it wasn’t ‘til I got older did the significance of her achievement hit home. I had the luxury of always assuming that women would, of course, be on the executive payroll. But someone had to do it first for the rest of us.
I cried for my ex mother-in-law who told me of a time when she went to withdraw money from her business checking account and it was empty. She’d worked so hard making cakes and catering parties and had built up quite a nest egg. But a woman wasn’t allowed a bank account without her husband, her father, or her brother on it as well. She was stunned and gutted when she learned her husband had withdrawn her money and there was nothing she could do about it.
I cried for the women who are afraid to vote for Hillary because of a man in their life.
I cried for the women who found the courage to stand up and speak out about their sexual assault and for the countless women who still sit in silence.
I cried for the women who were beaten and dragged through the streets and humiliated because they supported the 19th Amendment. I thanked them for not giving up.
I thanked Hillary for not giving up on us and on our country.
I cried for my sons because today they saw their mom, a strong, extraordinary single mom who’s made so many sacrifices for them stand up and proudly cast her vote for another strong, extraordinary woman who is more than qualified to lead our country. They are encouraged to see millions of others coming to the polls to repel the hatred that has threatened our communities. If they were of voting age, they’d be casting their votes for Hillary, too.
We are a beautiful nation filled with amazing people who believe in each other. That is who the world needs to see and I pray today is the start of something new, something better and a stronger country because we are together.
#imwithher #strongertogether #election2016 #herstory
... but you do!
I know that. You know that. The cover lures the reader to open the book, the story keeps the reader turning the page. Both should be amazing!
While writing Midnight Playground, I had an idea all along of how I wanted my cover to be. I wanted a merry go round with deep ruts, symbolizing the ruts we get in when we keep doing the same thing over and over. I wanted it to be nighttime, of course, with moonlight. The darkness and stillness to show emptiness and quiet (not necessarily peaceful, but quiet).
I had proudly submitted to the publisher what Julz and I and Caerah (my artist) had put together over several sessions at Starbucks. I dared the professionals to top our cover.
I was blown away!
Every element I wanted is included. It's slick. It's professional. It's legitimate. It says, "pick me up, read me, the story inside is amazing, you won't be disappointed, you'll think about me for a long, long time, you won't want to put me down!"
And my novel backs up what the cover promises. You won't be disappointed; you'll think about my characters long after the last page; you won't want it to end, and you'll want more. Much more.
My author copy was shipped today. I'm a few nail-biting days away from holding the real-life, smell-the-ink, bend-the-spine copy of my book in my hands. And once I approve my author copy, then it's ready for you!
If you want a signed copy of Midnight Playground,use the pre-order link. If you need any other personalization (e.g. It's a gift and you want me to write someone else's name on it), please e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
A few pictures from my hike Sunday at Hawn State Park. The weather was perfect! Warm enough for a tank top! Who would expect that at the end of October? Although Simone's hikes in Midnight Playground take place in Arkansas, these pictures give you an idea of what she was hiking through and looking at.
Although I'm relatively new to hiking, I'm so glad to have found it. For me, every hike is like getting a birthday present from Mother Nature. With every step I take, the breeze kisses my cheeks, the sun warms my face, and I keep unwrapping the beauty. My hikes linger with me for days and days. Being out there, trying new trails, seeing new and incredible vistas that are right in my backyard, is when I'm overwhelmed with the sheer enormity of all the blessings in my life.
If you haven't hiked yet, I urge you to try. If you're a veteran hiker, what's your favorite hike? What more do I have to look forward to???
Enjoy my pictures.