L.E. DeLano's Blog, page 43

[image error]

Yes, they do! And you only have until January 31st to submit for this round of vetting. Here’s a breakdown of how the process works.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that Traveler started as a NaNoWriMo project (that I didn’t finish at the time), then finally got completed and I spent a good long time shouting into the void, querying and workshopping and querying again to not much avail. I was only one unknown voice among thousands vying for the ear of that editor or agent.

I needed a platform. I needed to get my novel read by readers, real readers, who could give me feedback and write solid reviews that might get me noticed. So I took a leap of faith (and believe me, I agonized over it at the time) and entered the Swoon Reads YA contest.

The rest is history. Here I sit, working on book 2 of that series, and Traveler will be out in bookstores in a little over a month!

What have you got to lose? Even if you’re not chosen this round, you may be on the next. And you gain valuable (I really mean it!) feedback from a host of dedicated YA beta readers. You can’t put a price on that.

Do it.

Just do it.

[image error]

2016 was a year of work.

I may have landed my book deal at the end of July in 2015, but I got an agent involved so it was September before it was finalized. In the fall, I traveled to NYC for a brainstorming session over rewrites of some of the book’s more critical components, and just before the holidays, I got my edit letter.

I made a conscious decision not to even read it until after the New Year (knowing it would torture the crap out of me and eat my life through the holidays if I did), and on January 5th, I finally gave it my full attention.

*Gulp*

I started writing. And writing. And rewriting. And writing some more. I can give you better detail of the next 6 months in my blog post for Swoon Reads – editing is a process, and involves leaps of faith tempered by sacrifice. Ultimately, it is very, very worth it.

And as we were putting the finishing touches on Traveler, my friends discovered before I did that it was already up for pre-order on Amazon. That was an awesome, awesome, day. But not nearly as awesome as the day I opened the mail and held my advanced reader copy in my hot, sweaty, shaking hand:

Okay, so I wasn’t hallucinating. . .

Now I have a publicist setting up blog tours and book signings, and the countdown clock is ticking, and Traveler is out in just over 30 days. It still feels surreal, guys. It really does.

And I am so incredibly grateful for all of it. Here’s to a stellar 2017!

[image error]

It’s a story outline with plot points and a clear beginning, and I know how I want it to end. I’m just missing the middle.

The story of my life.

#1lineWed

Topic: Begin/End

[image error]

So I’ve been binge-watching Bones on Netflix for awhile now, and even though some of the episodes ride the ragged edge of credulity (and really, what TV drama doesn’t?) and the entire cast seems to have all slept with each other at some point, I generally love the writing on this show.

And with the episode, Spark in the Park, I went from love to “OMG I’m loving the writing SO very very very very much.“

The episode deals with a mathematician whose daughter was found murdered. She was a champion gymnast, and Bones (the female lead, if you’re not familiar with the show) and her FBI partner, Booth, pay the man a visit to try to get to the answers. The girl’s father is cold to the point of being unfeeling, but something about him resonates with Bones (Bones is on the autism spectrum, so she herself struggles with empathy and communicating that empathy).

At the end of the episode, they solve the girl’s murder and Bones returns to the father’s office to tell him so. He’s working on another complex formula, and he manages to convey his regret for being so involved with his work his entire life that he missed valuable time with his daughter. He feels tremendous guilt for not having gone to many of her gymnastic tournaments or spent much time just getting to know her. Bones (who has a genius-level IQ) realizes that the formula the man is working on is all about his daughter, described in equations dealing with arcs and motion and momentum, and finally, at rest.

“Her life in movement,” Bones says. “This is the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen. Better than any speech, old photographs, this is absolutely, perfectly beautiful.”

“She was. . . beautiful,” he answers, in a quiet voice.

Now, that is a perfect piece of writing. I have never had a chalkboard full of mathematical equations sucker punch me in the gut before. Kudos to the actors, as well – the scene was beautifully played. It speaks volumes that the writers found a way to convey the endless grief of a parent for a child through numbers and lines and one (seemingly) unfeeling man. They end the episode in silence, just staring at the board full of beautiful movement.

Amazing.

There’s a  clip on YouTube, but due to copyright, they’ve had to embed it and alter the sound a bit (their voices are higher pitched). Still worth a watch, though.

[image error]

That’s right! This gorgeous, swirly-blue, heart-clenching adventure can be yours!

[image error]

But you have to act quick! Head on over to Goodreads and sign up for the giveaway by Friday, December 16th!

Fifteen readers will be holding this stunning cover and leafing through the pages searching for pirates and overly-muscular nerdguys, laughing, gasping, and clutching their poor little shipper hearts – a lot!

What are you waiting for? Don’t put it off to the last minute!

[image error]

Get it now and nearly two months ahead of all the others!

[image error]

“Christmas was a month ago,” I remind him. “Why keep a moldy piece of mistletoe?”

He gives me a shrug and a grin as he closes his locker. “Maybe I’m waiting for just the right girl.”

#LoveLines

From: WIP

Topic: Mistletoe

[image error]

That’s right! SIXTY DAYS until the launch of Traveler! Sixty days and my book will be on a shelf at Barnes & Noble or some cool indie bookstore, sixty days and I’m going to be pinching myself to make sure I’m not waking up from a wonderful dream.

Holy cow, you guys. I did it. I wrote a book. I sold a book. They printed the book. The book will be for sale. People will buy the book.

[Oh please, let people buy the book. . . ]

Now is when the marketing machine goes into action. I’m spending this weekend putting together a list of every bookstore in the NYC, Philly, Baltimore and DC markets, and I’m going to be reaching out to them since I’m commutable to all four areas. I’ll go anywhere that will have me to promote, and I’m drafting a press release for the local news outlets and for those in the town I grew up in, since it gets a mention in the book. I’m exploring every single avenue I can to get my book in people’s hands and get that cover in their memory.

If anyone out there is looking for an author interview for their blog or news outlet or would be interested in using me as a guest blogger, please contact me (contact info here)! I’m a PR machine!

Sixty days, guys. Sixty days! Can you believe it???

[image error]

[image error]

“All I know,” he says, and his eyes are burning bright, warming me and chasing all the cold away, “is that no matter how many times I lose you, I can’t seem to let you go.”

#LoveLines

From: Traveler

Swoon Reads / MacMillan Feb 2017

[image error]

As I’ve been crowing about for a week now, I spent my Thanksgiving holiday across the pond in Dublin. On my first night there, I wandered the streets of Temple Bar (like any good tourist) and found my way to The Gutter Bookshop, so named for the Oscar Wilde quote that graces my new favorite mug.

They even had a book club meeting going on – which I hung around to listen in on. Afterward, one of the participants and I got into a conversation, and they asked about my book, and we talked about books, and I even got to autograph one of my author business cards for someone! I walked out with a terrific new read (The Improbability of Love by Hannah Rothschild) and a warm author-ly glow and it was just the cherry on top of my big Irish sundae.

Dublin.

Go.