Judging a book by its cover

I’ve been so jealous of friends who that their hands on ARC’s, and I recently won a copy of The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer. I won’t do a full review here, though I’m trying to put one together for Goodreads.  My head is still swimming a bit. This morning, I sit here staring at the cover, and I can’t help think about the old phrase, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” I wonder what prompts me to buy a book.  Not when friends have recommended or it’s a choice for a book club, but when I’m browsing, and I just can’t stop myself from clicking buy. I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I fall for a great hook and a good cover every time. 

Here’s the copy from the back of the book:

Mara Dyer doesn’t think life can get any stranger than waking up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there.  It can.

She believes there must be more the accident she can’t remember that killed her friends and left her mysteriously unharmed. There is.

She doesn’t believe that after everything she’s been through, she can fall in love. She’s wrong.

And the cover … it’s really lovely with amazing subtext.  

Knowing versus Believing

How will I know? How do you know? Songs and movies all ask the question which implies a simple answer.  Betty Everett and Cher said, “It’s in his kiss.” According to Whitney Houston, you’ll feel shy and week (need to resist conducting critical analysis of those lyrics right now).  

  

I’m less concerned about the asking the question that begins a relationship; instead, I’m focusing on the end.

“How do you know when something is finished?”

A great opportunity!

If you've got a full manuscript, you might want to check out this micro synopsis contest! I like this agent a lot, and he seems really responsive, so have at it.

Micro Synopsis Contest with John M. Cusick on the YAtopia Blog

The Time of Your Life

Time is what we want most, but... what we use worst.  ~William Penn

I am completely stealing this week’s blog from my fellow writer and motivational partner, Tia. She wrote a great piece about the value of time. I admit that I am a little obsessed with time—just ask my kids how often they hear, “Hurry up, we’re going to be late,” even though we pretty much never are.  

On the first day of public speaking every semester, I ask students who the best and worst speakers they ever saw were, and I put a list of characteristics up on the board.  I never name names on my worst, but I tell them the worst thing you can do when speaking to me is waste my time. I cannot stand when people read me a handout, for example, when I could just as easily read it myself.

That isn’t to say I don’t throw away plenty of hours even in a single day, but such a priceless commodity commands more respect. Sometimes, I even wonder about the value of my writing time. If I didn’t write, I’d have more time, for sure, but how would I spend the “extra” time if not writing? Of course, perception matters.  Another person could perceive everything I do to be a waste of time and vice versa.