Forty-five years ago today, a quarter of a million men and women marched on Washington for jobs and freedom. Bob Dylan and Joan Baez both performed. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his famous moving, “I Have a Dream Speech.”

Twenty-two years ago, as a high school senior, I wrote an essay on what living the dream meant to me. That essay made me a finalist in a city-wide competition, and sent me to the King Center to present my essay orally to Bernice King and her mother, Coretta Scott King, and others. Here’s a portion of my essay:

So much of our lives are based on dreams. These are not necessarily the visions we see when we are asleep, but rather those in our wakeful hours. From a babe in a cradle to an elderly gentleman in his rocker, from a leader in his office to a manager of a fast-food restaurant, everyone has dreams.

Martin Luther King, Jr. also had dreams. He didn’t dream of owning a sprawling mansion or a glittering car. He didn’t want millions of dollars or political power. What Dr. King wanted could be expressed in one simple word: peace.

Unfortunately, dreams cannot come true magically. They do not happen overnight. Dreams require hard work and endurance for goals to be met. Dr. King had these qualities, the endurance and the stamina to set forth and reach the goals of his dreams: love for everyone, and world peace. Even when his dreams seemed to turn into nightmares, Dr. King continued his steadfast, unwavering search to attain his dreams, even to the point of giving his life.

And today, all these years later, Dr. King’s dream is alive and growing. Today Blacks and Whites and Reds and Yellows can all live together, work together, and explore together. Today, every man and every woman can pursue their dreams to the limits of their capabilities because they know that there are no longer any legal limitations or discriminations placed upon them. Today we are living our dreams.

I am living a version of my dreams. I went to college, the first in my family to do so. I have a wonderful job that enables me to support myself and occasionally, indulge myself. On the main page of my website, I say that I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Today, I have five novels and four novellas out, with three more novellas releasing next year. While I may not have that dream of the lake front home in the mountains with a writing room overlooking the water, or the downtown loft with my musician SO and our dog, surrounded by books and music, I am writing, and selling.

To many, I am living a dream.

I am so very grateful that I am where I am, when I am. I’m grateful that sometimes my glasses aren’t rose-colored but instead, crystal-clear. I am so glad to have met many wonderful people who enjoy the words that I pull out of my brain. I am grateful that I am able to take my dreams, dreams based on the themes that MLK, Jr and others believe in–dreams of love and acceptance for anyone–and put them into every story, be it paranormal, contemporary, extra-sensual or historical, and have people enjoy them.

Thank you for enabling me to live my dream. I hope that you are living yours.

So apparently spammers are really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

In my spam filter I saw an email with this heading “We Have Your Child.”

I. Shit. You. Not.

The email went on to say that they wanted $50,000 for the safe return of my child, and I just needed to unzip this file for further information.

Uhm. Y’all know I (gratefully and emphatically) don’t have kids, right? So unless they were talking about my laptop or the mold in the vegetable drawer in the fridge, I ain’t got to kidlets.

And a kidnap note via email? Who would believe that? The people who would believe that are people who don’t check their email religiously, so it would be DAYS before the poor gullible schmuck would open their email program.

On another note, I’m watching Ace of Cakes while writing this blog. I like watching it. I like seeing their creativity. But man, I don’t think I’d ever actually want to taste one of their cakes. One have you tasted fondant? Two, those cakes sit out for days while they’re being decorated. Days, people. And three, I have yet to see a hairnet. ANYWHERE.

To bring this back to writing, I love Matt Ryan. Who’s Matt Ryan? He’s the hero in RODE HARD, my novella in the What White Boyz Ride anthology. He’s the biker on the cover. (No, I didn’t know they were putting a biker on the cover, but how lucky am I that I’m doing a biker and they put one on the cover?)

If you plan to be anywhere near the Atlanta area on Labor Day weekend, I can’t think of a better place to go than the Decatur Book Festival.  Why, you ask?  I’ll give you five reasons:

1. It’s FREE

2. Harry Potter Acoustic Rock (I don’t know either)

3. A Madeleine parade, Teen Poetry Slam, Sci-fi vs. Fantasy smack down
4. Cooking Demonstrations, Pearl Cleage, Eric Jerome Dickey, Karin Slaughter, Haywood Smith, Emily Griffin
5. Ty Pennington (had to cancel due to scheduling conflict)

6.  It’s FREE!

Here’s a schedule of major events.

I’ll be at the Georgia Romance Writer’s booth on Saturday 12-2.  It’s booth 252, right across from the old Courthouse at the intersection of East Ponce and East Court Square (and delightfully close to food vendors, Starbuck’s, and an ice cream parlor.)  Here’s a map of the exhibitor booths.  I hope you’ll stop by–I’ll have freebies, and copies of some of my titles at prices you won’t find anywhere else.  Buy for a friend, a loved one–buy one for me!  Or just come and say hi!

Hope to see you there!

Today is my day over at Blogging in Black, talking about “the uncluttered mind”. If you’d like to take a peek at part of my office, I posted a photo for your vicarious viewing pleasure.

Hope to “see” you there!

Here’s the cover for my April 08 release, Carnivale Diabolique, with Monica Jackson and JM Jeffries.  It’s paranormal, and you guys already know my story is a black female named Camryn Hodges and a Maori named Anaru.

Did anyone else see Eureka?  I love that show!

What a way to start a Monday (or end a Sunday). Check out the cover for the next White Boyz anthology, What White Boyz Ride:

This anthology will be out in February, which means we will have copies on hand for Slam Jam, as well as T-shirts with “Wanna Ride” and this cover emblazoned on them.

Sweet dreams y’all!

Not much in the way of updates today, unless you care about the technical.  I jettisoned my old ISP because I went with a new digital phone service and it’s not one of their “preferred partners.”  I mean, I spent the Opening Ceremonies last week on a three-way phone conversation with my ISP and the new phone service, and that was the result.  So I exercised my right as a consumer and chose to go someone else.

Course I had installation trouble with the cable modem and had to call them.  They could get a technician out on a Saturday (!) so I jumped on it.  Missed my chapter’s meeting, because I couldn’t let the poor technician into the townhouse–especially my office–in the condition it was.  Let’s just say, with two full time jobs (writing and well, writing) being domestic isn’t high on my list.  And I finally found a lounger that was small enough to fit in with my two desks TV stand, two file cabinets and four bookshelves and two chairs, but could convert into a sleeper when I have guests over (or when it’s three AM and and I just want to take a short break from writing).
The bottom line is that I have two and 1/2 sparkling bathrooms and my office finally looks like an office and not a storage room.  As a result, I actually like being in my office now.  It’s like my brain can finally flow or something.  Amazing how that works.

So yeah, like with TGPO, a little organization doesn’t hurt, even for pantsers.  Now I’m going to go have a breakfast that always reminds me of my grandmother and mornings over her house: peanut butter and butter sandwich and a cup of coffee.  I might even sit out on the sun porch and contemplate my writing for the day.

I love zen days like this–especially since they don’t come often!

I just wanted to say, I love this show.  I love Sheriff Carter.

And I really love this video.

Somehow I missed all of that, what with work and sending out proposals and all.  Last week was IBARW and there’s a main blog you can sift through for more info.

I actually liked the post that Rose Fox did on Race and Racism in Fantasy Fiction.  Here’s the opening salvo:

It’s International Blog Against Racism Week and I’ve seen a lot of good and thoughtful posts on race and racism among writers, editors, and readers. One thing I haven’t seen (though it’s quite possible I just missed it, and if so, please link me to it) is anyone addressing the broader question of how race and racism work in fantasy worlds, where they are both endemic and rarely questioned. Epic fantasy is the worst offender here, as epics generally require war and heroes and Good/Evil dynamics that are most easily driven by racism or its alter ego, nationalism, but fairy tales and legends are almost as bad, rife with unquestioned hereditary enmity and sterotyping, and most paranormal romance seems to postulate a world where white human women love vampires (with their fetishized pallor) and werewolves and ghouls but never give a non-white human man a second glance.  (emphasis mine)

And just so you know, Rose is so not Black.
So it’s not just me.  That’s good to know, because sometimes one feels a little bit like David facing three Goliaths: readers, publishers and bookstores.  Hey if all of them like things the way they are, who am I to continue to rail and wail and gnash my teeth?  Who am I to point out that more and more non-black authors are writing black characters and getting the benefit of the higher-traffic area while I am told that being in the AA section is good for me?  Who am I to complain that readers have to find me tucked on a shelf with Thugs in Love; Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; and a biography on Martin Luther King all mixed together?  Hey, I should just be grateful that I’m published, right?

So yeah, the writing’s on the wall, and it says: shut the hell up.  And I do know how to read, lawds yes I do.

No more railing, no more ranting, no more posts tagged “romance racism”. All’s well in the world, all is as it should be, let’s drink the Kool-Aid and join hands and say how wonderful this world is that I can have a part-time career writing romance because some people don’t have a career at all.  I’ve ordered up a case of rose-colored glasses and I’ll be passing them out at next year’s Romance Slam Jam, RT Booklover’s convention, and RWA convention.  There’s a system, my friends, and I’m going to work within it with a big ass smile on my face.

Peace out, A-town down y’all.

Here it is, in all its innocuous glory: my storyboard.

I think some of you know I don’t have the steadiest hand in writing, but this photo should give you a general idea of what I did. Here’s a handy key:

• Green: Outer conflict/plot
• Yellow: hybrid of plot/subplot and inner/outer conflict
• Pink: Hero and heroine interaction and major emotional conflict.

So I know you’re looking at this and you’re going, “Uhm, Seressia? There’s not a lot of emotional stuff going on up there.” And you’re right. I have two excuses reasons for that though:

1. It’s a novella, coming in at roughly 100 pages
2. It’s urban fantasy

But really it’s because two of the major plot points actually are my hero’s and heroine’s emotional conflicts at their respective breaking points. Since those actually drive the story forward, I made them green. Besides, it’s me. You really think I can write without going for the emotional jugular? Silly rabbit.

Now usually in storyboarding, one sticky note would equate to one chapter. I didn’t do that here simply because my brain didn’t want to work that way. I was brainstorming and storyboarding simultaneously because in a do-as-I-say-and-not-as-I-do moment, I haven’t finished writing the synopsis. (Something about getting proposals out in the mail, yo.) But I sorta knew where the story would go, and I promised y’all I would get this up here today. Besides, this is my storyboard, and I can set the rules for it.

I started with three green stickers: the opening plot point, the big confrontation, and the resolution. Then the three big emotional turning points: H/H meet, make love, resolve their conflict. Then I had to figure out what would connect the greens and the pinks. Here’s where the importance of sticky notes come in: what I’d imagined as the end of the story actually isn’t. It’s an emotional hook that drives the hero to his final emotional confrontation. Maybe I would have realized it as I wrote the story and/or the synopsis, but having the visual representation got me there a heckuva lot faster. Not only can I mentally see where the story needs to go, I can physically see it as well.

Storyboarding in my day job is slightly different, because that is essentially the flow of the class. It is the manuscript. This sticky-not version is akin to a Course Strategy: this is how I plan to lay out the class, and what are the topics I want to cover in each lesson. Sure I could break this note-laden storyboard down even further, but I’d rather get on with the writing.