Special Guest Post by Paranormal Author Cate Dean!

Paranormal fiction is extremely popular and has been for the last few years. Cate Dean sits down with us today and talks about why she writes it. Enjoy!

You will find contact information, buy links, book description and a small excerpt below the post. I suggest you give Cate Dean's books a try!

Writing the Paranormal

 I grew up loving the spooky, the otherworldly, the supernatural. So it’s no surprise I ended up writing in the paranormal genre. For me, sitting down to write is an escape from the everyday, and a chance to create characters with not only unusual, but paranormal quirks.

A Gathering of Angels, Book 2 of The Claire Wiche Chronicles, is paranormal suspense – a cast of characters that are not all human, thrown into a tense, fast-paced situation. I am incredibly visual, so I write the story as I picture it in my head, and readers have also found reading it to be a visual experience.

For me, this is one of the most compelling genres simply because the people who inhabit it are not average, or even normal. In my books, I chose to go a bit sideways – instead of vampires or in-your-face witches, I chose a witch who is – more, an apprentice witch who casts more mistakes than spells, and a Jinn with a dark past.

They grow and change with each story, and because they are more than human, they can change in unique, unexpected ways. As a reader, I find that type of character fascinating, and fun to know. As a writer, I find it an incredibly satisfying challenge.

Paranormal is filled with as many stereotypes as other genres. My goal when I started writing The Claire Wiche Chronicles was to be as original as possible, while still fulfilling the desire readers of this genre have for the different. Claire and her friends have quirks, histories that make them unique, yet an appeal that has my readers coming back for more of their story.

I write the paranormal because I love it, plain and simple. Nowhere else can I have a conversation with a friend or fellow writer like this: “I was refining my version of Hell yesterday.” Or scare myself silly researching my own story. (I consider that one of the perks. ;-))

I read it because it is always surprising, often bone-chillingly scary, and one of my favorite ways to fall into another world.

Thanks for hanging out with me today!

Cheer,

~Cate

Author bio:

 Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand and put more than two words together on paper. She grew up losing herself in the wilds of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping through the UK, and a few other parts of the world. A lover of all things supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique edge. When she's not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.

Website: http://catedeanwrites.com

Facebook page: http://facebook.com/catedeanwrites.com

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/catedeanwrites.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5694181.Cate_Dean

Amazon Author Central:  http://amazon.com/author/catedean

Book blurb:

 Claire Wiche sacrificed everything to keep her friends safe, revealing her true self. She expected the final battle to be the end for her. But she is back, breathing - and threatened by an enemy she doesn't have the means to fight.

An enemy bent on vengeance and possession, whatever the cost.

Trapped, alone, Claire has to find the strength to stand against what she knows she can't defeat. And the courage to face the people she thought she left behind.

*Includes a short preview of Back in Black, Book 3 of The Claire Wiche Chronicles, coming in Fall 2012.

 Buy links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gathering-Angels-Claire-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B008SUUSEW/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1347461183&sr=8-5&keywords=cate+dean

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-gathering-of-angels-the-claire-wiche-chronicles-book-2-cate-dean/1112378402?ean=2940014924696

Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/A-Gathering-of-Angels/book-Dzj9rYOW6UerNvfDOMgMkA/page1.html?s=fCuBV5WsN0uJ6Mj8Y_j1sA&r=2

Short excerpt:

    Sitting on the edge of the bed, Annie Sullivan tapped three sleeping pills out of the bottle and into her palm. After a short debate, she added another one. She set the bottle on the side table, dropped the pills in her mouth and chased them down with a long swig of beer.

It didn’t help any more than water, but it did make her head fuzzy a little faster. At least, that was the excuse she would give to Marcus if he ever found out.

He watched her like an overprotective brother. She wanted to slap him down for it, but she knew he was worried. Going into the fourth month after losing Claire, Annie looked like she was the one who fell into Hell.

She scrubbed at her face, then climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the pills to take effect. For the dreams to yank her in.

It didn’t take long before she was pulled under, slipping into smoke and shadow. Into a dream where she wasn’t alone.

 

 

Unleashing the Creative

Last night I finally got back to painting class.  It had been two months since I had picked up a paintbrush! While I am primarily a painter in my soul, I am also an indie author, and I am trying to build an income writing fiction.  It is a tough road, but not as tough as trying to make it as a painter!

July found us vacationing during 3 full weeks.  August was a month where my art teacher vacationed.  I was busy finishing the first draft of the 4th book in The Gastien Series. So, here it was - September -  and I had not painted since June. I was worried that it would seem foreign, that I wouldn't be able to switch on my painting brain. It was also the first time in a few years where I went to class at night.  After editing all morning and babysitting all afternoon, would I be too tired to create?

My fears were unfounded. What a pleasure it was to get back to creating visual art! We had a brief lesson about Josef Albers, an abstract painter who is known as The Godfather of Color.  That lesson was perfect for me.  I am interested in the energy of color and I love abstract. This brief visit into Alber's world connected me to my source of creativy. I was back in the world that feels like home, the world of painting and color.  Albers wanted to paint color for the sake of color only.  There was no subject matter, only the play of colors against each other, broken down to the simple.

Then we used colored paper to make a collage based on his style.  Mine was supposed to be shown above. However, as I blogged about earlier, I am still learning how to use my smartphone.  For some reason I can post photos on Facebook and text or email them, but not put in my blog!  Another thing I have to be shown. I will turn this into a painting someday I think.  My husband does not like this one, but I love it.

Then we began individual projects.  I am working on a new abstract which is going in a direction I had not anticipated.  If it not at all like an Albers. Will I like the finsihed product? I don't know.  Will I learn from it?  Definitely.

Yes, it was good to be back. I feel more complete once again, and my mind sees things in a fresher way.  Once again, I was reminded who I really am deep inside. "Welcome back," the color whispered.  "Welcome back."

Smartphone? Not if the User is Me!

As an indie author I have found myself learning all kinds of new things. I had a very basic knowledge of Word until a couple of years ago and that has improved immensely.  I can format books to go on Amazon, B&N and OmniLit.  I have learned to tweet, create a character page on facebook, make that character talk on facebook, and I created and use this blog.

I was feeling quite proud.  Until last week. Enter the Smartphone.  Dear God, please forgive me for all of the times I lost patience with my mother when she could not figure out voicemail! This phone sits and glares at me, daring me to push a button and try to figure out what to do after doing so.

I can't even figure out how to add phone numbers to my contacts!  It imported my google contacts for email and it imported my friends on Facebook.  Most of those friends don't list a phone number.  There has to be an easy way to add a phone number, but I simply get nowhere when I try.

As for other functions, I get screens when I push a button that don't appear the next time I push it.  Perhaps they will never appear again.  Or maybe they will appear out of nowhere, while I am driving, only to taunt me before disappearing once again into the vast frontier of cyberspace.

My neighbors (who are Gideons's parents) have endlessly worked with me to get me up to date with a scanner (I had a fax/printer older than Methusda), different way to connect to the internet (through that darn Smartphone...if I can remember how) and ye olde Smartphone. They are patient and kind, but must think I am two levels below Dunderhead.  Jen will show me how to enter contact phone number today, she says.

In the meantime, there are red thingys indicating something I should be aware of but when I click on them nothing happens.  The little instruction book assumes you are not still back in the days of flip phones and don't need your hand held.  I don't just need my hand held, I need CPR!

It just made a noise.  When I went to look at it, I could see nothing new for me to check out, inspect, read, or mistakenly delete.  Was it laughing at me?
I bet so. 

Well, I am going to have the last laugh. I will not only learn how to work it, I will make it sing some dorky song every time it rings and perhaps find some humiliating skin, or picture, or screen, or whatever that it must always wear.  If you can do that. If not, I will tie a bow on it and then call it Big Boy.  It is going to learn some manners yet!

There is one consolation in life.  So far, technology has not managed to make a corkscrew too complicated for me to operate. There is a God after all.

Meeting With Other Authors Can Only Help You

As an indie author, I understand only too well how lonely and alienating it can be to write stories for a living (or even for a hobby!). When you write you spend the majority of time in your head. Usually you are alone, writing, researching, editing, formatting...the only voices you hear are your own and those of your imaginary characters.

Sometimes it is even hard to be present in reality and feel you are really part of a social group when you are with others! Someone once wrote (I can't remember who) that as a writer they always felt on the outside of things, like they were watching but not really participating.  And that perhaps it had to be that way in order to notice everything that a writer needs to know in order to make stories "real".

I get that.  Yet, as humans we all need interaction.  Make sure that you do things with your family and friends.  I can't stress how important that is for your own mental health and for the sake of your family! 

There is another important way to interact that many indies don't do.  Interaction with other writers can be so inspring and rewarding! When you sit and talk with others like you it makes you feel not so alone; not so odd. Not to mention that you can also learn a lot from each other. I am just talking about a social get together where authors talk and support each other.  This is not a critique group, although those are great, too.  I am talking about socializing with like minded individuals.

I started a group here in Minnesota about 9 months ago.  We meet quarterly and keep it very simple.  My home is the base and everyone brings what they want to drink.  If they want to they can bring a snack to share, like chips or whatever.  I provide chips and salsa. Easy, easy, easy. And what fun to talk to other people who sit and pound the keyboard every day just like I do!

A good place to find people to start your own group would be kindleboards.com.  In the Writers Cafe there you will find hundreds and hundreds of authors.  Just post a new topic like  "Looking for authors who live in Minnesota for a get together" and watch what happens! You'll soon have some new friends who love to talk about writing and their characters, just like you do.  You will also always look forward to those get togethers as a time to connect and just enjoy being who you are.

I know I do.  We are meeting this Sunday and I can't wait!

Loving My Real Face

On August 26th I turned 57 years old. During the last week or so leading up to that event, I felt depressed and useless.  I went into a depression for about a week, wondering if I'd even be able to climb out of bed every morning.This isn't how I usually am.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't bounce out of bed ready to take on the world. In general, though, I am a happy, positive person. I tend to see the good in people and the possibilities in life.  So what, I wondered, was eating at me? Fifty seven isn't that big of a deal in the countdown of years. There are milestones like 21, 30, 40 and even 50 that hadn't affected me in this way, so why now?

Then I remembered that my father had died at 57. Just came in from jogging and died. I had breast cancer a couple of years ago and am overweight. I also had a complete hysterectomy at 35. Now that I don't take hormones, did I increase my chances for heart attack to the point where I would be like my dad?His dad and all of his brothers except one died young, from heart attacks. Was this going to be my last year?

Once I realized that I had discovered the underlying issue the depression went away.  Hell, I thought, no one gets out of here alive. You had breast cancer and were lucky enough that they found it very early. The women on both sides of your family live forever.  So long, in fact, that they forget who they are or where they are, and shit themselves while whiling away the hours in never-never land.

Suddenly, death didn't seem as awful.  Look, we are here for however long we are here for. Other than using some common sense, I'm convinced that there isn't much we can do to change our expiration date.  Am I going to sit and worry that I might die anytime or am I going to get busy and enjoy life until the day I finally do croak (or don't even know I am living)?  That was an easy decision. 

Game on.

Then I realized something else. I had been wearing make-up since I was age 12. For 45 years I had covered my face to make it "prettier", "more glamorous" and, eventually, "younger".  Forty five years. For four and one half decades I had insulted my true identity by telling it that it simply wasn't good enough.

I made a bold decidsion. No more. That day I quit wearing make-up.  (Well, okay, I wear lipstick. It helps my lips keep from cracking. Ando, sometimes, I dab on a little blush or put concealer on a blemish...because yes I still break out once in awhile.) I got a half dozen compliments on how much softer my face looked, how much prettier. Strange, that. I do know I inherited my mother's good skin and my father's lovely eyes.

At first it felt weird.  I was kind of embarrassed when people looked at me.  It's a shame how advertisers have convinced us that as women we don't look like we care enough if we don't alter our faces. Yes, I was almost ashamed.  I even apologized to my husband, for God's sake! He said to go without the make-up all the time, it didn't matter to him.  Bless his heart.  He gets it.

Then, all of a sudden, it felt immensely freeing.  One less thing to take up my time in the morning.  Several less things to spend money on, several less chemicals my skin is absorbing.  I go everwhere without make-up now.  It feels absolutely wonderful.  .

So, here I am.  Finally, after 57 years, this is me.  If someone doesn't like it, they kiss my left butt cheek.  If they're still bothered, they can move on to the right one. I am Caddy Rowland, fifty-seven-year-old married woman who writes, paints, and doesn't wear make-up.Finally, I am no longer disapointed in who I am or what I look like.That's good enough for me now, and it always should have been.The miracle of being here is all that matters.

Will I never wear make-up again?  Oh, I will sometimes. I was always one attracted to make-up, lingerie, expensive perfume, and all of that. So, when the urge to be more dramatic strikes me, out will come the tubes, brushes, and colors.  But here is the difference: make-up no longer makes me better. Make-up is simply a prop that I will infrequently pull out because I want to play with color, just for the fun of it. Most of the time, I will forego it and be bold enough to live in my own skin.  Fun is found in many other places, and I want to world to see my real joy while I experience it.

Game on.

Excitement! Babysitting Gideon Full Time

Today I start a new adventure.  I will be Gideon's full time babysitter every weekday (and will probably get some other time in, too!).  It will be about 22 to 30 hours a week, giving me time to write (and do a little painting).I hope my fibromyalgia can take it!

What an honor to be such a major part of this child's life.  He will learn so much from me. Being a one-year-old, every day is a new adventure for him.  I am going to make sure that he learns new things every day and has a lust of life that keeps him always wanting to learn.

I fully understand that I can't just be the "fun" grandma.  Not when so many hours of his formative years are spent with me.  From me he needs to learn that there are boundaries and how to interact with others.  How to share and how to be polite.  But he will also learn a deep respect for nature and others, a solid sense of self confidence and self worth and he will know that he is unconditionally loved. And we still will have a whole lot of fun.

Right now he is still a baby, just beginning to become a toddler. There is only so much one can "teach" him in regard to boundaries and interaction.  But it is not too early to teach him the important things.  This is what I tell him a couple of times every time we are together:

You are smart.
You are creative.
You are cute.
You are kind.
You have a fabulous sense of humor.
You are a great listener and a wonderful decision maker.
You can do anything you set your mind on, so choose wisely.
You are loved.
Forever, you are loved.

He looks at me and smiles.  I know he is processing it. What a gift to help this child become a valuable addition to society, what a pleasure to help him enjoy the wonder of being on this planet. 

I am blessed.