I know this topic has been covered many, many times by people far more eloquent than I am but sometimes you just have to chime in on a subject, you know? The other day one of my google alerts caught a question on Yahoo answers of all places asking where they could find a free downlod of Playing with Fyre, one of my Lyrical releases. Luckily someone was quick off the mark answering and replied with something along the lines of ‘what you’re asking is illegal, Mina writes for a living and, as such, doesn’t give her work away for free’. (whoever this person was, I couldn’t find an email to thank you, so…well, thank you )

Now technically this isn’t piracy, this person was just asking a question but it highlights (to me anyway) a basic lack of understanding about eBooks. Ie – that they’re free just because they’re available on the internet and this leads into a far more disturbing arguement from the diehard pirates that everything on the internet is theirs for nothing, by right.

Huh? Right? I don’t get this part. I and other authors work long and hard to produce a product (yes, stories are a product when you  get down to the nitty gritty of publishing). We spend long hours in front of a screen, hammering away at keys to create something entertaining, beautiful, wonderous and all that…Those are hours we could be spending with family, going to see a movie, hell reading books instead of writing them. Enjoyable things instead of the sometimes painful process of creating a story (although, don’t get me wrong, sometimes writing is the best feeling in the world! And sometimes it sucks). But we do it, we write, we edit, we polish the story and then we proudly announce it’s for sale.

And then find a pirate copy on Astatalk within 24 hours. Which people are downloading for nothing, free, zip, nada.

Sorry, correction. These people are not downloading, they are stealing. Each download steals from the publisher, the editor, the cover artist…basically anyone who had anything to do with prepping the book for release…and last but not least, the author.

It gets worse. These people actually request books from others, who then go and buy them with the intent of pirating them. They’re proud of what they do, they boast about it. They hold little competitions about avoiding detection (which then triggers an author or publisher takedown request).

You know what the end result is? Authors stop writing. Yeah, you heard me. Authors will stop writing the stories these people (and other, legitimate fans) claim to love and wait with baited breath for.

Why?

Simple math really. You spend X hours doing something that brings you in $20 a month, then the pirates start up and that $20 dwindles to 15, or 10 or less. You need to pay bills, or even you could have all those hours as quality family time…well, it’s a no-brainer, ain’t it?

So what do we do about it?

Not much we as authors can do, except send multitudes of take down orders to all these ratty little sites and wait for a) abuse from the pirates b) spam and c) spam. Did I mention spam? I did, good.

The other part is up to you guys, the readers. All we authors ask is you support us by buying our books, not downloading them from torrent sites. We’re not talking a lot, a couple of quid or bucks…it’s not gonna break the bank. Buy from the publisher, hell go and buy from Fictionwise or Amazon if it’s cheaper. I normally don’t say that as they take a HUGE cut and us authors get less but, as long as you’re getting a legal download, it doesn’t matter.

You might not think that you doing that makes a difference but every journey is made up of small steps and, believe me, you’ll be making a huge difference to the authors whose work you love to read!! And, by helping, you’ll probably be keeping some of them writing…

After much hairpulling and cursing I finally found a look I’m happy with. There’s still a fair amount of work to be done content wise–I can’t believe how untidy the place has become but so far, I think I have a good start. So hopefully get back to some writing soon.

So, what have I been up to recently. Other than managing to delete all my themes and having to do an emergency recode of course! Well, I’ve been finishing up a longer length sci-fi story, which is just about ready for submission now *tigger dances* and I’ve been doing a fair bit of artwork. These two are for a series I have plans for, just need an extra ten hours in the day to write!!

Guardian Concept Poster by ~Raven3071 on deviantART

Guardians: Seline Concept Art by ~Raven3071 on deviantART

Somehow I managed to delete all my themes. So…bear with me whilst I (kick myself for being an idiot) get this place back in order.

Between moving house, finishing one story, editing another and plotting like mad for three more, this release kinda snuck up on me! Which is a pity because I really wanted to shout long and loud about it as I enjoyed writing the story so much.

Edan is a loner, pure and simple. A loner with one goal in life, to avenge the twin killed in an illegal cage fight four years ago. With no body to mourn, Edan takes his twin’s place in the ring to save as many paranormals as he can from the brutal sport.

Paranormals like Dualla’s aunt Melody, saved from a rich human’s “collection.” Restored to her tribe, the older mermaid tells tales of her handsome and enigmatic rescuer, tales that have the younger women of the Romani mer-tribe in flutters.

Everyone except Dualla. Half mer, half… something else, she’s always been the odd one out. A healer like her mother, she’s had the same dream for years — dreams of a man who is more than a man, and a dragon with purple scales who sets the sea on fire. A warrior to her mystic. A man with a broken heart… one Dualla knows she was born to heal.

Excerpt:

Dragon Kin: Siren’s Seduction
Mina Carter
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Mina Carter

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The fight was over. Two hundred pounds plus of defeated cage fighter hit the floor, groaning his pain into the matting. Victorious, Edan spun in the centre of the ring, sweat-soaked blond hair whipping around his shoulders as he looked for his next target.

There wasn’t one.

He’d won.

He roared in triumph. The crowd gasped as he loosed his hold on the dragon within and gave the creature full voice. The window panes, set high in the walls, rattled, and glasses danced over the tables with the force of the sound. His dragon drew closer to the surface, scales pressing against the inside of his skin as his bones ached with the effort of holding it inside.

Edan lifted his head and looked around the crowd as he forced the creature to recede. He didn’t bother to hide the contempt written across his face. The room was filled. Every seat at every table occupied for this blood-thirsty spectacular. He recognized politicians, police chiefs and wealthy businessmen. Kneeling at their feet, wearing near identical collars and expressions of misery, were their paranormal “pets.”

Edan gritted his teeth until his jaw ached with the pressure. He could see numerous weres and several variety of fae. Nothing too powerful of course… certainly nothing like him. A dragon would take this place apart in seconds if anyone was stupid enough to even try and put a collar on it.

“And the winner is… Edan Lisander!” The announcer’s voice rolled around the small room.

Mac, Edan’s owner, ducked into the cage to grab Edan’s wrist, shoving it into the air in the traditional winner’s salute. “Good job, big guy. Thought you were a goner at one point.”

Dark haired and lean, Mac appeared human. Especially next to Edan, who looked like he could break the smaller man in half. Nothing could be further from the truth. In Mac’s case, what walked and talked like a duck was anything but a duck.

Edan knew if he tried anything, he’d just end up bruising his knuckles. Mac was a gargolye; one of the only creatures who could suck up more damage than a dragon. Which made them perfect partners — a deadly duo in their bloody little game.

“Pfft, to him?” Edan nodded at the crumpled figure of his opponent. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. He couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, no matter how much Fairy-dust they pump into him.”

Like his contempt, Edan didn’t bother to hide his disgust. The guy had been high before he stepped into the cage, and there was nothing that pissed Edan off quicker than a user. Particularly one who thought he was the biggest bad-ass out there. Of course, there had been nothing else for it… Edan had been forced to introduce him to the mesh of the cage several times.

“Oh yeah?” Mac threw back, “I suppose hitting his fist with your face was part of you wearing him down then?”

“Behave.” Edan bit out while Mac paraded him around the cage like a good little pet. “Or you’ll end up as a garden ornament. A butt-ugly one.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and whose army, scale-boy?”

Edan just shook his head. Mac had the gift of the gab for sure. “So, how’d we do?”

Mac’s grin was quick, the look in his silver eyes almost feral. “We got him bang to rights. Bastard was counting on his boy winning this fight and for you to take a fall in the fourth. Right about now he’s making a run for it with the takings.”

“We’ve got all his escape routes covered?”

Edan ducked out of the cage, slipping a little on the blood and snot by the hatch but recovering within a second. He slanted a look over his shoulder in the vain hope that Mac wouldn’t notice it and go arse over tit. No such luck. For a creature made of the biological equivalent of granite, the gargoyle was damned light on his feet.

Mac threw a towel around the dragon’s neck as Edan flopped into a chair near their “corner.” “Of course, what do you take me for? No matter where he runs, Steel and Reese’ll track him down.”

Edan used the edge of the towel to wipe the sweat from his face. They’d spent too long tracking Carmicheal down, put in too many man hours getting their ducks in a row, for it to all go to shit now. With heavy hitters like Steel and Reese on the case though — both of whom had more than enough reason to hate Carmicheal’s guts — Edan didn’t have to worry about anything. Well, other than the two weres ripping each other to pieces.

Edan’s eyebrow arched. “You sure it was a good idea to put those two together?”

Mac shrugged. “They’ll either work out their differences or kill each other. Either way, I won’t have to put up with their bitching and bellyaching about each other anymore. I call it a win-win situation.”

Edan snorted a laugh and reached up. Gathering his hair at the nape of his neck, he snapped a band around it.

“What the fuck? What do you mean he’s gone? I put good money on this fight and I want my damn winnings!”

The shrill voice of complaint was just the first. Before either Edan or Mac could turn and identify the speaker, more voices had joined the fray. The noise in the room increased as the crowd realized there might be a problem.

“Looks like the peasants are revolting.” Mac threw the bigger man his shirt and grabbed Edan’s bag. “Come on, big guy, time to haul ass before things get ugly.”

The shirt hit Edan mid-stomach as he rose to his feet, his movements graceful even after seven rounds and a pounding in the cage. His attention wasn’t on Mac though. Instead, it was riveted on the other side of the room where a fish tank covered the wall. In fact, it was the wall, he realized, now he got a good look at it. There was something in there, something big.

“You go on. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Interested? Want to know what was in that tank and the secret Edan’s hiding? Head on over to Changeling…

There is a place on the interwebs. It’s hard to find, in fact, you have to be in the know to find it. It’s not a website, yahell loop or chat room. It’s a little corner of IMville carved out by a small group of people. People, I mean writers.

Now what you have to understand about writers is that they are a very ‘special’ breed. Writing, as I’ve said before, tends to be a solitary activity. Job specification includes parking your rear end in the seat and applying your fingers to the keyboard for large amounts of time. Hours a day. HOURS a day I tell you. You become hermit like, and rather crabby, carving time out of a day where-ever you can to get the words down on the screen. Like at the time of this writing, I’m up this morning at 5am to get some ‘me-time’ before the house becomes bedlam with people getting up and needing to be herded towards their day, where-ever that might be.

So, solitary endeavour, check. PC, check. Interwebs, check. Heard the phrase ‘birds of a feather flock together’? That’s what happens in this little room. Writers are people and need contact (in fact some of us are attention loving little bunnies) so we tend to gravitate into groups. Hence ‘the place’.

Here there is an arcane little atmosphere. Discussions are wide and bizarre, anything from dicussions about cock rings, right through to the mating habits of the lesser spotted patagonian fighting hamster. Cries of ‘to the google’, and ‘to the wiki’ abound as vital information for the writing going on off im-screen is sought. In this place the posting of a link to a picture of a hot guy can halt production for at least ten minutes as various attributes of said hottie are debated and various characters he may be suitable to represent are suggested. (which normally results in pairing up with a heroine and we deny any responsibility for plot bunny formation as a result of this process or resultant spamming of publisher’s inboxes with submissions)

Stories are formed, written, posted, debated, picked apart and polished. Writing partnerships are formed, Critiquing is arranged. Reading is paramount, especially the sexy bits. Characters are named and renamed. It’s a melting pot of creativity.

*plot bunny hops into view, looks at screen, spilts into two, both hop off. In different directions*

Yeah, that happens a lot. And starfish? They do poop…

Okay as part of cross-promo actitivities I’m doing some banners up for other authors. First up is Mulberrilicious by Michelle Hasker…

After losing her job due to the economy, and her fiancé due to a skinny chick, Trisha moved out to Missouri to be with her sister. While caring for her niece and nephew she runs into the two handsome hunks who own a neighboring property. What she does know is that both want her, and neither cares that she is a BBW. What she doesn’t know is that they’re not what they seem to be. Oh, and they’re already lovers.

Read an Excerpt

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1335

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures
and…me after less than five hours sleep and up writing. Caffiene is my freind. Yup yup.
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Okay so I’m not exactly sure HOW I found this link (small kid you know, memories not the best at times) but if you’re at all interested in writing then you HAVE to read this blog post by Lesli Richardson…

http://leslirichardson.blogspot.com/2010/01/writing-how-to-you-are-not-special.html

There are so many true points in this it’s unreal and I can hear echoes of conversations I’d had with people who know what I do and ask me for advise on starting writing. A number of them irritate the hell out of me. They’re the ones, when I ask, ‘How long are you planning your story to be?’ answer ‘as long as it wants to be’.

Okaaaay, I can go with that maybe. Kinda. I’m anally retentive about planning. I study the market, decide what I’m writing next and what length. Most of the time I have a publisher in mind BEFORE I start writing, and at least half the time the story is pre-contracted. I’m lucky in that I can do that. Pre-contracting doesn’t work for everyone. At least one author I know doesn’t pre-contract because it puts too much pressure on, which I can understand, but I’m fairly sure she knows where she’s placing the story before she writes.

The next one ‘What is your story about?’ gets me more, especially when the answer is ‘whatever it wants to be about’. At this point my eyes are glazing and I can guess the next statement/question. It’s going to be about how much they’ll get for the story and how long do I think it will take one of the big-boy publishers out there to…get this..find THEM and offer them money. Here I’ll refer you to Lesli’s post as to my normal reaction, it’s fairly similiar.

Then we get the opposite end of the scale. The ‘how do I…’ers. These I don’t mind, they’re the ones who ask questions about writing and about making their writing better. What did I do to start off, how do I work…right through to questions about promotions and setting up websites. These people I have a lot of time for and I’ll help out as much as I can. When I started out writing it was a lonely business. Writing is a solitary endeavour and you can become very hermit like.

I was lucky. Very quickly I made friends with other authors a little higher up the food chain than I am and they helped me out so much. They still do (and not one’s told me to sod off yet with my incessant questions) and for that I am very grateful. In turn I try and help out as many new writers as I can.

My advice if you want to write…

1) Bum in seat. Don’t TALK about writing. Write.

2) Don’t give up. It’s hard work. But like any work, do it often enough and you get somewhere.

3) Don’t think you know everything. The instant you stop learning about the craft, you stagnate.

4) See point one again, then point two. Rinse and repeat as often as necessary.

5) Those Self-doubts that laugh at you. You know, the ones that say ‘why are you bothering? You’ll never do this. You’re a terrible writer.’ Yes, those ones. Ignore them, they lie. The only bad word is the one you don’t put on the page. Everything else can be worked with.

Yup, yup, yup!! I haz a new banner! The wonderful Anne Cain, who did the cover art for Playing Wolf was kind enough to do a version of it for my banner which I think is absolutely fabulous! And I haven’t stopped drooling over yet.

As a writer cover art is one of the things I agonise over. I’ll make no pretense about it. I loathe and detest the average poser cover with the passion of a thousand firey suns. It’s the whole deal, the bright lighting, the stiff poses, the lack of expression on the faces. A friend said they don’t like the lack of life in the eyes and I have to agree, dead eyes are not a good thing.

I prefer photomanipulation, such as the Playing Wolf cover. Did I mention how much I love that cover? Really? That many times? But yes, definitely a photo manip girl. There are so many wonderful covers out there done in this style I often get lost looking through the publishers sites. I start out looking for something to read then end up ogling cover art! I’m also a cover artist so it’s research, honest guv!

Anyway, in an effort to update my skills I booked on the Creative Direction Workshop in Feb. SQUEEEEE!! Although I’ve had to slot it into the weekend between renovations and moving into our new house so I’m going to be sat in the middle of packing boxes with my laptop snarling at everyone to leave me alone. Actually…that box looks big enough to hide in… I wonder if I can get away with that? If you don’t hear from me after valentines weekend, assume I’ve been packed away and lost in the removals van!!

Wicked Wraiths: Tori’s Secret
by Mina Carter
cover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN: 978-1-60521-388-0
Genre(s): Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Magic and Mayhem, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Series: Wicked Wraiths
Length: Novella

Tori’s trying to find Mr. Right. So far all she’s found are Mr. Arrogant, Mr. Self-Obsessed and Mr. Downright Scary. When her latest date ends in her dumping her drink in her date’s crotch, a frustrated Tori takes matters into her own hands. One quick spell later and her very own Mr. Right is standing in her bedroom. So what if he’s a wraith, a magical construct. She doesn’t care. He’ll do the job far better than any of her buzzing friends.

However, the ghostly hunk standing by her bed is hiding more than one secret: like the fact he’s not a wraith at all, but a sorcerer looking for a way back to the land of the living. Jacob needs an in, a chink in some mortal woman’s armour. He needs to hear the words “I love you.”

Trouble is he doesn’t plan to lose his own heart along the way…

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1319

Use code Jacob1057 before the end of January for 5% off!