Cover design in Indie publishing- stick to your guns

I am not sure who the people who created my cover design thought they were dealing with, but it has caused me to want to instruct first time indie publishers to stick to their guns. You have a cover design in mind. This is your books brand. It will be the first thing people see about your book. It has to be good. So imagine my shock when after being instructed to find covers in the book store that I liked and explaining my vision: a weathered house on the beach, girl running out front door while being grabbed by multiple ghost hands, ghosts in all the windows of house, I got photo one- a flat photo of a house. Say what?

I had to fight to get the cover you see on my book today and that was just stupid in my opinion. I guess it is true you get what you pay for, but if you are unable to deliver the goods, don't take the money.

Even though I have a cover for my book, I will continue to search for the artist that can give me what I want for a cover. My wish for new indie writers is that they too keep their vision in mind and do what they can to get th

e cover they want.

The second photo is the rejected cover. Fans will recognize the actual cover. Not happy with either of them. Perhaps my standards are too high to be an indie publisher.

Dream Fade

This is why you write it down as soon as you wake up:
I had an entire movie in my dream, all the plot twists and everything- from beginning to the bittersweet end. As soon as I awoke from this great dream I was racked with people problems. (The undream realm sucks sometimes) I had a cold and there was no moisture in the air because it was winter and I had just purchased a new heater. My mouth was completely parched, as in not even a drop of moisture to even swallow since my nose had been stuffed up by a cold and the only way I was getting any air at all was through my mouth, which was gaped open for hours while I slept.

So, I guzzle a drink from the tall glass of water I keep on my bedside table and guess what. Now I have this sudden urge to pee. But I have this incredible story to write down. But it will take so long to capture it all. I will just pee and then dash it off before I forget. I stumble down the hall in the dark; we only have on bathroom in our house, no on-suite, and I kept the light in the hall off so I didn't wake anyone.

Okay, so as I sit and do my business, I try to play back bits and pieces of the dream in my mind so I don't lose it.They were so clear upon waking, but they are starting to fade. Why did that movie take place in my head? What was so important about it? I have no idea, see I have already forgotten how it started. It is okay though, I can still remember the middle and the end. I can piece the beginning together later. Still okay. This will be a best seller. It is so awesome. Gotta get out of the bathroom and write it down. I know the beginning will come back to me as I write it down because I remember...ah...What? I remember...? Oh yeah, there was a woman at the end and she was important because...she...she...oh hell, it's all gone.

And that folks is what happened to the best selling thriller I never wrote!

When life gives you lemons...here's my lemonade!

The Storm
There comes a torrential downpour from all the lies and deceit that was their lives! The driving rain washes away the fabric of the life that once was. With it it sweeps off all the caring with the lawn chairs. It overcomes hope and carries it off with the top soil that washes into the nearby drainage ditch. It breaks away all the joy from life like the tree limbs that crash to the ground torn from the trees by the violent winds. It squashes happiness as the once strong tree takes out the roof over the bedroom crushing the lost lovers while they sleep, each in their own corners of the bed.
But like all storms this too will pass. The lawn chairs will be retrieved from the neighbor’s yard. At least you cared enough to go and get them. Hope has been forever lost with the top soil, down the drain. Joy is picked up with the dead tree limbs in the yard. It is tossed with the limbs into a pile and burns as the joy goes up in smoke. Meanwhile the firemen come and dislodged the giant tree from the lost lovers so that they can be disengaged from the weight of the rot that caused the tree to fall in the first place.

Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to say goodbye… to this man… this woman… this life. The storm is over. The sun squeezes out from behind dark blue/black clouds.