Monday, December 17, 2012

The Next BIG Thing

My lovely friend, writing buddy and author extraordinaire, Juli Page Morgan, tagged me in a blog hop, called the Next Big Thing. We answer some questions about our current WIP or published book then tag five friends. They in turn should answer the questions and tag five of their friends…rinse and repeat. In turn we get to follow the links and discover all these cool writers out there. It’s simple and fun.

The Next BIG Thing from me is…drum roll please (badadadadabadadadaba – I know pathetic isn’t it?) The Next BIG Thing is…. NEW AVALON.

Yes! I can hear the applause - the crowd goes wild - but please throw money instead (starving artiste here).

What is the title of your book?   New Avalon.  I am taking a short hiatus from my completed story, REMEMBRANCE,  to work on this story because the characters were calling.  Truth be told I hate editing and needed a break.

Where did the idea come from for the book?
Hritik Roshan as
Eirmyd Mordan

A girl at work relayed an eerie experience she had traveling late one evening over the Salem Beverly bridge. The power went out and all the lights on the bridge and the streets of Salem went out. I believe she said there had been a fog as well and...well, my mind went…uh huh. I’m sure a grin came across my face as the “what if” moment hit. What if the witches caused it, what if the fog wasn’t fog but an energy power that would roll up and become a mystical sphere. What if? What if? It just took on its own life at that point.

What genre does your book fall under?

I guess paranormal w/some romance. I don’t really think of a genre when I write, I just let the story come. I figure someone else can decide what it should be classified. I tend to put everything but the kitchen sink in there.

Emma Roberts as Shaelin
 Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Oooh good question. I hadn’t thought about it for this book. I think because I am in the early stages of writing and letting these characters take place I hadn’t let myself go there. However, I do know what they look like and if I had to pick current actors:

Tom Cruise as Gwydion

Tom Cruise for Gwydion. Ross Lynch for Tavish and he’d have to have his hair with some red highlights like a strawberry blonde maybe. His female twin would be Jeanette McCurdy and she’d have to have her blonde hair dyed black with blue tips.  Hritik Roshan as Eirmyd Mordan (Shaelin's other love).    Hey!  This is kind of fun. Now Shaelin my female lead hmmmmmmm not quite sure what actress for her, perhaps Emma Roberts but I’m not sure, I'd have to see how they age her. Not sure who would play Annwyn – maybe Hayden Pantierre?

Must say I enjoyed looking at pics to find my Eirmyd (mm hmm)

Hayden Panetierre as Annwyn
What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Oh! Are you kidding me? (you’re not…oh…ok…ummmm)
In a town where the magical ways of auld are now considered the norm, a writer and her children try to stop a power hungry priestess who is searching for a portal key that will open the closed doors of Avalon unleashing all its magical powers.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I’m still working on it. I started the original first 3 chapters over a year and a half ago then put it away to finish Remembrance. Now I’m pulling it back out so basically I’m at the beginning and my goal is to have the rough draft finished by end of February.

Ross Lynch as Tavish

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

I’m motivated by my desire to keep writing. I missed it. I was spending too much time in the editing trenches. I wanted to write and this is it.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
Jenette McCurdy as Eithne

I want to intertwine a bit of Salem history into the story, ie special landmarks and points of interest. Salem is a beautiful coastal town with much to offer a visitor. There’s more in the air than just the magic of the witches...

So who am I tagging well, I think I am going to tag the following writers.  I love their blogs and writing style.   I know its supposed to be five but  Ms. Juli Page Morgan already tagged some other writer friends so.....

Mike Schulenberg                  Mary W Jensen               Melinda S. Collins

Sunday, December 16, 2012


Wanted to share my newest WIP.  I've been having fun working on this and it feels so so good.  It's just what I've been missing.  Below is an excerpt (rough draft) of my newest work-in-progress, NEW AVALON. 


Journal Entry:  February 1994
                         ~ Sometime after midnight

Led Zeppelin blasted out of the radio as I made my way over the Salem/Beverly Bridge. Robert Plant and I sang in harmony as my right hand tapped the steering wheel in steady rhythm to Bonzo’s drum beat. My jeep chugged along and soon neared the bottom of the bridge. I maneuvered into the right hand lane and travelled down route 1A or as us locals call it, Bridge Street. Nearing the turn onto Winter I noticed the green streetlight up ahead. Before I could increase pressure on the gas pedal to speed up and plow through the light, it quickly turned yellow then red then back to green, all within mere seconds. It did this twice more then stopped.

That’s when IT happened.

Everything around me went instantaneously black. My immediate thought: Shit! Power outage. I continued on but noticed no other cars on the road. Also, there were no people milling about, which was odd for a Friday night in Salem, Massachusetts. Right then I realized something else. I had been so intent on what was going on outside the jeep that I hadn’t noticed inside. The music had stopped. I pushed every preset button on the radio and found nothing but static coming over the air waves. It was eerie. Scary eerie. The only thing moving in the dark was my car and of course, IT; a massive, swirling white matter that hurtled up, from out of nowhere, blanketing the jeep and reaching upward for the stars.

I stopped and parked the Wrangler smack dab right in the middle of Bridge Street. That’s when I felt the vibrations. At first I thought it was an earthquake then I realized it wasn’t the road shaking – it was me! I couldn’t stop. The internal vibration was an intense, continuous energy coursing through every part of my body making me feel as if I could shoot to the moon and beyond. There was a buzzing sound in my ear too. You know the kind, like when a bee passes to close to your ear, or the sound a hummingbird makes as it whizzes past. That’s what was needling into my brain. Neither would stop. In fact, it was getting worse.

Between the mind-numbing buzz and the adrenaline pushing energy, I thought my body was going to explode. IT was intense. I got out of the car and in the darkness I saw my body glowing. My aura was a myriad of shades ending with a blue tinged white. The glowing concerned me and I was shocked by the fact that I was buzzing and charged with energy. Right then I was the epitome of a human lightning bolt. If I touched something right then, they’d be electrified or burnt for sure.

The sensations running through my body at that moment were like none I’d ever felt. First, there had been the fire within me. A consuming heat so intense it threatened to set me aflame. Then there was the warm coolness of a turbulent wind, like an angry vortex was spiraling out of control inside me. It shook my body in an uncontrolled fit then immediately stopped only to be replaced by an intense dryness and heaviness. It felt as if sand was filling my entire body, as though I were an hourglass with my time running out. When it reached my lungs I began to cough and sputter; I was suffocating, but on what? That sensation was immediately replaced by a sense of liquid rushing through my veins. My blood seemed to thin to water. When I moved I could hear the sloshing within. The fluid was pulsating through me. I fell to my knees and begged for whatever it was to stop.

Oh, please. Someone, anyone…make it stop.

IT did.

Ask and you will receive. It was odd. I still felt the energy and vibratory hum, but it was soft, tolerable. I looked myself over and found I was still intact but filled now with immense peace. A sense of love, unity and oneness with the world enveloped me. I smiled. My senses became sharp and crisp. Right then, it seemed as if the universe had kissed me on my third eye, opening it to see the world in front of me but in a whole new way.

The tree on the corner was no longer just a tree but an entity. A living, breathing species that would tell you its tales if you stopped to listen, and I did. I heard its whispers. The majestic oak was happy, as was the elm, and the willow. They conversed. And, I could hear them!

“Welcome home,” they said in unison.

I paused. I wasn’t home yet. Unconcerned by my pause or thoughts they moved their wondrous branches to and fro as they giggled and laughed happily. I sniffed as the acrid smell of smoke and incense wafted through the air. Familiar smells to my awakening senses, but where was it coming from? I looked up to see if I could see the smoke but what greeted my eyes instead was some kind of spectral field. Almost imperceptible to the eye but yet, I could see it. A clear film of sorts, that arched high and as far into the darkness of the night sky as I could see. It reminded me of a liquid bubble. Iridescent yet, around its outer edge was a white-blue that shimmered. An energy field. I felt its vibration and hum. Boy had I felt it. I gazed up in wonderment - I was baffled.

What was it?

~ ~ ~

Journal Entry: March 20, 2012

IT was the beginning.

The rebirth of the auld fused together with the new. Of time gone backwards then brought forward sparkling to those that believed in magic.

I was chosen to journal all that was it, and what it was to become – New Avalon. A township of mystical, magical people set on the wondrous path of resurrecting an old place in time where peace, unity and the ways of the gods and goddesses were worshipped and revered. The witches of Salem, and the world over, had enough. Persecution still existed even though the witch trials ended decades ago. Outsiders don’t understand and probably never would. It was easier for them to frown upon, cast angry glances or fear the witch then it was to take time too understand.

Longing for the days of auld, where magical abilities were honed and used in society, witches far and wide stood together and sent their energies to those in Salem who raised the luminescent energy sphere. The time had come to bring it all back. And, that is just what happened.

As most do here, I remember the night it happened. The awe and fear as the elemental forces passed through me. The wonder and thrill of having my sixth sense opened and attuned to everything around me. To feel alive and know that what was happening was a good thing. And for some time it was good. I say was, because time has a way of changing people and their ways. I understand now why the legends and lore of the fae, pegasi, elves and such disappeared. Why the Avalon of auld escaped into the mists. It was people’s blood-lust for power that destroyed it.

Witches have been persecuted because they hold the unknowable power. Most people thrive on power. Those that don’t have it - want it; and those that do, always want more. Both parties will do anything to get their hands on it. This was the downfall of Avalon, and now possibly of New Avalon. I can save it, but the question I ask myself, do I want to?

Do I want to save a place where chaos now reigns? Hexes, spells and potions are everywhere. There are outcasts within New Avalon hiding their abilities from the power hungry. The once open place of unity, love and peace has all been shattered to oblivion. The outsiders have been waiting for this. They wanted us to fail. To see our protective shield shattered so they can laugh and point their judgmental fingers at what we’ve done to ourselves. We are hanging our own witches, not by the nooses hung on Gallows Hill, but by our own inability to share and stay at peace with one another. Old habits die hard.

In a society filled with mystics, surely they foresaw this. I did. But then I’m a believer in fate, hope, love and all things good. I believed we could change the future of New Avalon if we stopped what was coming. Nobody believed me about her until it was too late. The high priestess, Annwyn; power flowed to her, and she liked it – too much. Annwyn wanted it all and she didn’t care what she did to possess it. She would be New Avalon's downfall.

There’s a fine line between good and evil. It’s delicate, a gossamer thread. To make New Avalon work we all had to stay in balance. But alas the wheels of fate turn, and like everything that is, you cannot have one thing without another. With good there must be bad – as above, so below – it was only a matter of time. No one in the Circle of Nine ever wondered or asked, how do we handle evil when it comes? I did, as it was what I foresaw. I saw the evil no one dared to speak of. Now that it’s here, they say I can stop it. I can bring back the harmony we once had. I’m not so sure about that.

My fear is that my choices don’t matter, that it is now out of my hands. New Avalon is bigger than anything we ever dreamed possible. Building a bridge into the portal of a closed world was not wise. Avalon and all its mysterious secrets shrouded itself from mankind for a reason.

Annwyn’s plan to use her power to cross over and open the portal door frightened the beejeezus out of me because the only thing standing between Annwyn and the Avalon of auld, are Tavish and Eithne - my children. She wants them. Alive, if she can have it. Dead would work just as well. But dead doesn’t work for me, and the only way to keep my children safe is to get them back into the outer zone. They are sixteen now, the legal age in New Avalon, and they’ve informed me they aren’t going back. They are staying put.

Now, I’ve never lied to them but I’ve never given them the whole truth either, as some things are better off left unsaid. Though, it stands to reason, that when you’re the journal master that someday they might find out the whole truth. Right now Eithne, my wild tempest, is angry with me. Even Tavish, her twin and the peacemaker, is unhappy. “How could I not tell them? How could I keep this big secret from them?” I can only stare at my children and think, how could I not! They have no idea what they’re up against. I do. And, I want my children to live. What mother wouldn’t?

Tavish and Eithne left the outer zone and came back to the place of their birth. The place I took them from sixteen years ago. By crossing through the zone they are now marked. Annwyn’s eyes are everywhere. She would know they were here and send her leeches to find them. It was up to me to keep them safe and I got the twins off the streets of New Avalon. It meant having to go down below, down with the other outcasts. If there was anywhere we stood a chance at being protected, the vaults under the cemetery were it. The outcasts knew my secret, and now that Tavish and Eithne knew it too, I felt they should read the journals. All was not what it appeared and they needed to read the truth.

I could only hope that after reading the journals they would want to return to the outer zone, but that wasn’t the case. It made them want to save this township even more. And, they were still mad at me. I had not prepared them for the battle yet to come.

How could I tell them that I had been shown two visions; in one they were trained for battle but they died, and in the other they were untrained and living in the outer zone - very much alive. As their mother I chose the second vision for them. I wanted them to know peace, happiness and love; not the craziness under the bubble. I smuggled my children out of New Avalon so they could live, and now sixteen years later they have come back here. And, I fear it is to die.

Not to be reprinted, photocopied, or redistributed in any form without express consent from the author: S.A.Hussey. 

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Between the Lines: Edits and Everything Else: Holiday Raffle

Between the Lines: Edits and Everything Else: Holiday Raffle: Happy Monday everyone! It’s November, and the holidays are coming. In honor of the giving spirit, American Editing Services will...

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Cleaning up da funk

Today boys and girls, ladies and gents, (readers peering out from the portal beyond), I have decided it’s time to get myself in order. No, I’m not dying. I’ve been in a funk.  Listing said details of why, is moot. Nobody understands (or cares) about the why anyways.

Somewhere along the way I lost sight of why I do this thing called writing. I enjoy it. I love spinning and weaving a story web (alluding to spiders WTG I hate spiders). I see or hear things and my mind just goes into another world of my making. The people are real. The things they say and do are real – if only in my mind. I guess to some that’s a crazy mind, but I do know the difference between reality and fantasy. I do. I’m truly sorry you missed seeing Pegasus land on the pier in Swampscott Harbor. It was tres’ cool the way he came out of the mist and landed on the rustic, wooden dock. A majestic sight to behold and not something you see everyday either. He came for the Hostess cupcakes, but now they're all gone…just like him. (sad, huh?) I digress.

My meandering muse and I have decided that I’m going to keep writing, even if it’s ludicrous crap that makes no sense. I live for white backgrounds and black letters. I think even some of you do to. I can jazz it up too and make it sparkle like a vampire by changing the font and color.  Oooh pretty isn’t it.

Anywho…I’ve found myself making a mess of my story, Remembrance. I was trying to make it work, and was very hard on it. So much so, that my characters shut down on me. They went into a funk. (poor things) I’m so lost with the story that I’m stuck between worlds with it and I have no idea where to go. I can’t ask another soul about it because that would just add to the chaotic hell I’m already in. One says do this, another says do that, and yet another likes it as is. So what is one to do? Who’s right, who’s wrong? Am I fooling myself here? Do I have what it takes? Am I any good? Self-doubt is reality people and it’s hard to pull yourself out of it. I was making myself crazy. I even put limits on myself and refused to write anything else if I didn’t finish the story. All that did was depress myself further. The funk was in da house.

Now it’s time to move it on out. I’m starting over - completely. I’m going to separate my two blogs. I have this one and that musical one (Rock-it-Write). Not that music needs to be separated from writing but I really do want to keep that beautiful musical lane special. Bluebird Reviews showed me a path and gave me the opportunity to combine two passions of mine: writing and music. Like my stories my musical meanderings deserve their own place and I gave them two, a blog and a website (check it out here:  Rock-it-Write), and when I write for Bluebird Reviews they get posted there as well. So here is a shout out to Bluebird Reviews for all things magically musical - Keep up the FANTASTIC work!

As for my first love it’s time to feel the passion again and write. Remembrance is a great story filled with amazing characters, but I have to let them go. Someday I’ll go back to Aiden, Tiernan, Ari, Owen, and Vaz, but right now I can’t. (Insert dagger to the heart here) It’s depressing me because I don’t know how to make them shine the way they should. I have a lot of ideas but which is the write one? I’m thinking I have to let it stew to make it better. I don’t relish (well I do and I ketchup and mustard too) the idea of re-doing this story, but it may be something I’ll have to do. Again, it’s a fantabulous story if I do say so myself. 150,000+ words is nothing to sneeze at. I don’t suck (yay), well…I tell myself that (boo).

A lot of time went into the making of Remembrance but (doncha hate that word) it’s too many words for a publisher, too many POV shifts, too many dis and dats and everything in between. Something’s wrong. I think when I took that left in Albuquerque on my way to California…that was it, that’s where I went wrong. I don’t know. And, if I don’t know what it is I’ve done, how can I fix it? Insert beta readers…but are they right or wrong? And where do you find them? Are they willing to commit to my mess? So many questions? Perhaps, I’m better off not writing but I can’t imagine not writing so there you go (double bind).

I figure before I completely trash Remembrance or make mincemeat out of it I’ll leave it alone and go write something else. I have other story ideas I’ve wanted to work on but I put them to the side to commit to Remembrance. Bad idea Stephy (ain’t that the truth muse baby). I have to listen to my own voice. Follow my gut instinct. Yada yada yada, etc. (ad nauseum) Plain and simple…I have to write.

So, how many of you know there’s a portal to Avalon smack dab in Salem Harbor? And, how many of you know how to open it? Hmmmm…I’ll give you a hint how. Tree speak, yeah that's right, tree speak. That ol Willow at the north end of the commons knows a lot. Only wish I knew that before I sent Shaelin out on that boat ride. I mean seriously, who knew, that if you went into the Astor vault in the Old Cemetery that a hidden door existed which would lead you to an underground city, and somewhere within that city was a journal and not just any journal, it holds within its pages the words (and secrets) of Avalon.   Cool huh?

Saturday, March 24, 2012


My friend, writer extraordinaire,  JuliPageMorgan, challenged me to #777.   What is #777 you ask? Follow the rules below (yes, there are rules) and you shall see what it's all about (it's not the hokey pokey).


1.  Go to page 77 of your current MS.

2.  Go to line 7.

3.  Copy down the next 7 lines/sentences, and post them as they’re written. No cheating.

4.  Go forth and challenge other authors (keeping in theme, preferably 7 authors).

Do you see what it's about?  Fantastic!  I knew you would.   :-)

My 777 excerpt will be from, REMEMBRANCE.   Enjoy!

********************************   777 EXCERPT    **************************

“What are you looking for?”

“The key. I had it right…”

“Are you bloody serious?” Tiernan exclaimed, a look of shock sat on his face.  He looked again at the ramshackle cottage then laughed out loud at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Aiden dug the skeleton key out of his jacket pocket and watched Tiernan laugh hysterically.  After a moment he asked, “Are you quite through?”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Tiernan got his laughter under control then looked at Aiden and chuckled, "Who the hell would lock this place up?

Saturday, January 21, 2012

The Gauntlet Challenge

So I cuffed the gauntlet across the Facebook profiles of Debi and Juli. Writers extraordinaire.  Don’t believe me, go take a look at their blogs: The Pen Whore and Pages. Awesome stuff right there huh?

I think they’re both amazing writers - very talented indeed. But like me, and probably other writers, I think we need fires bonfires (burn baby burn) lit under our keesters to get us going; hence the heavy-handed gauntlet thwacking that made some eyes roll backwards right into their heads. (Juli take note)

What it is, and what it all boils down to is this…c’mon people say the word with me - procrastination. That’s the fancy pant, ten cent word for laziness. Yeah, I said it. Laziness. Admit it – we all go there. We languish in Lake Lethargy, hoping it will take us to the Ocean of Oomph. We all make excuses. Hell, I’m the Queen of it. All hail Queen Procrastination of Fiction Land - bow down and bring me chocolates (Lindt dark chocolate truffles please).

It’s not that I don’t have good intentions. I do! (Really, I do.) Every day I start out with a “To Do” list, and writing is on it, I swear. I just don’t know what happens – well, I do but I really don’t want to admit that I’m a Facebook junkie and that I’ve been reading more than I’ve been writing. Time just slips away. One minute I’m thinking, ok I’ll finish this and then I’ll start editing (or writing) and next thing you know, bob’s yer uncle and it’s time for bed. I dunno people…I’m trying.

I said to myself that I would finish editing two books before the first of the year then I would begin a new story, or finish one of the other ones. And now I sit here in worse shape than I ever was. I’m a round shape, and I’m not liking it at all, not one bit. I need to slenderize (in more ways than one). To do this I need to bring in my critters, my pack, mi amigos – my friends.

Let’s face it, only friends are allowed to crit you, by rolling their eyes, throwing up their hands (you like that one huh Juli), and only they can get away with it. They will keep you on the straight and narrow, or sit in the same boat on Lake Lethargy yelling, “Where’s the rum?”

First up, I must fix my blog. I have two blogs one for my writing and the other is for music meanderings. I need to separate them, and I have. (Yay me!)  Second thing, I need to post blogs. Yeah, post a blog Steph - HA! (Ummm, that was my muse being sarcastic-don’t mind her) Post blogs? That means - gasp - I have to write. Hahahahaha snicker chortle guffaw hahahaha (my muse laughing)

I found that I do better when challenged. (Seriously, I do) When I’m forced to produce something…anything, it appears I can actually write. Now that’s where mi amigo’s come in. I need to get them off Lake Lethargy and out of the boat (leaving the rum behind). We all need to swim in the Ocean of Oomph and be revitalized. But how? Well, I grabbed a gauntlet from a medieval page and thwacked Juli and Debi for starters. I am sure in turn they will thwack others and soon we’ll be a pack of bitches chucking a mean wallop at each other, hoping to win the Gauntlet Challenge. I so want to win…to have such amazing bragging rights.

Yeah, Queen Procrastination of Fiction Land wants bragging rights – she’s due.

**  This particular post is part of the Writer's Gauntlet Challenge among my crit group, an exercise to keep us writing, thinking and being creative. Other Gauntlet entries can be found at The Pen Whore and Pages.

Friday, January 20, 2012

250 Words Please

K.T. Crowley is doing a 250 word test run of various works of writing. I entered the first 250 words of Maine-ac, a horror story that I am working on. Go on over and check it out - critique some great stories.