Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Guest Post: BBF Danielle E. Shipley

I used to be a speedy reader. It was all my local libraries could do to keep me supplied as I inhaled mysteries and historical adventures, joke books and comic books, and what would eventually rise to top of my favorites lists, fairytales and fantasy.

            Then, in recent years, something changed. I gradually turned the corner from Reader to Writer. And somehow, reading became a very different experience.

            I blame my creative subconscious. Already nearly full of words and worlds and pieces of plot, I no longer have the space to down someone else’s story in one quick gulp. A book bought or borrowed is like dessert at the end of a hearty dinner; I want it, I do, look how yummy it is! But I’ve got to take it slow. Nibble, swallow, savor, settle. Not too fast, or I’ll make myself sick.

            That does happen, sometimes. I’ll happen across a book – “The Scorpio Races” by Maggie Stiefvater; “Spirit’s End” by Rachel Aaron; “Deathless” by Catherynne M. Valente – and rediscover the meaning of having one’s imagination captured. Maybe I love the story, maybe I’m not sure precisely how I feel. It doesn’t much matter. Unable to think of anything else, I surrender my afternoon, my evening, an imprudent length of the night to the story, and spend the next day, possibly two, dealing with the indigestion. No regrets.

            It can be the same when I’m writing – not nearly always, but often enough to remind me why I partway turned my back on finished books, the better to focus on the blank page. Characters of my own making and the stories of theirs take over my waking and sleeping hours, and those in between. Perhaps it’s wiser to take smaller bites, to rise from the table and walk around for a minute, to say “no, thank you” to another helping, just now… But, okay, just one more taste, one more paragraph, just to the end of one more chapter before bed.

            I like to think that my work will someday be the overindulgence of choice for more than just me.

            I like to hope a few friends and strangers will find themselves pleasantly trapped by the banquet I spread out before them.
            I like to assume there will be no hard feelings about that almost painful fullness in their centers.

             It’s the best kind of ow, isn’t it? No regrets.

             Bon appetite, Readers.

This post is in part of the Book Blogger Fair so if you want to learn more about it check out the July 2013 directory for more authors/books, giveaways, events, and more!

About the Author:


Danielle E. Shipley’s first novelettes told the everyday misadventures of wacky kids like herself. …Or so she thought. Unbeknownst to them all, half of her characters were actually closeted elves, dwarves, fairies, or some combination thereof. When it all came to light, Danielle did the sensible thing: Packed up and moved to Fantasy Land, where daily rent is the low, low price of her heart, soul, blood, sweat, tears, firstborn child, sanity, and words; lots of them. She’s also been known to spend short bursts of time in the real-life Chicago area with the parents who home schooled her and the two little sisters who keep her humble. When she’s not living the highs and lows of writing young adult novels, she’s probably blogging about it at www.EverOnWord.wordpress.com.
Also follow her on Facebook and Twitter!
The Swan Prince Summary:

Catching her leg in a bear trap proves the least of Sula’s worries. Haunted by an enchanted monster from a past she dare not reveal, and hounded by the perilously perceptive young village doctor, Villem Deere, the headstrong girl of the woods gambles with fate by binding hers to that of Sigmund, the captivating orphan boy with mysterious nightly business of his own.

Check out my review of The Swan Prince.

Where to Find The Swan Prince:
B&N Nook