The Pyrenees---Southern France

The Pyrenees---Southern France

Friday, April 22, 2016

Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday # 11

This is a weekly writing exercise. But it's also supposed to be fun. Write a book blurb for the cover photo below. And you only have 150 words (or less) to do it.

  • You choose the genre of your prospective novel. Is it a mystery? Chick lit? A romance? A sci-fi story? A horror story?
  • Post your blurb on your post... and then link your blog, using the charming Mr. Linky below. (It's really easy. If I can do it, anybody can do it.)
  • Make it enticing. A book blurb is crafted to seduce the reader into buying the book. But it has to be enticing and succinct.
  • Check out the other linked blurbs, and leave a comment. You'd be surprised how different our inspiration is, given the same photo. 
  • If you enjoy writing or reading these, head to Lisa Ricard Claro's site. Lisa was the brainchild behind this book blurb idea many years ago. However, don't expect her to reply if you leave a comment and say, "Thanks," because she's on an international romance writers' conference tour right now. Her keynote address--each time she speaks--is called, "They Don't All Have to Have Brimming-Over Bosoms On the Cover, Do They?"

      The photo for the next week is also included, so you have some think-time...



Dusty's Last Trail

         Dusty had been a cowgirl all her life. She rode. She roped. She strung barbed wire with the best of 'em. Her callouses, her sore joints, her skin as breeze-browned as an acorn... they were all proof that a woman's as good as a man. Most of the time.

         But when she celebrated her 35th year of life, Dusty wondered. What else did life have in store for her? When she got too stiff to climb into the saddle, what would she do?

          One day, her uncertainty overwhelmed her. She slid off Beckett--one of her favorite horses--and swatted his rear end playfully. "Go on Beck. Go home." Dusty jammed her hands into the pockets of her blue jeans, looked around, hung her hat on the first fence post she passed... and headed out on the biggest adventure of her life. (141 words)



       This is the photo for next week. It's from morguefile, just like the picture above. (Thanks, Cathy C. Hall). Hopefully some blurb will bubble up in your brain about this character...











Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Music: Now a Character



        My husband is not much for books. He thinks they are marvelous with barbecue... in the barbecue pit as a fire-starter, that is.

        However, even though he's not into books, he does know how to pick great ones--most of the time. He's stumbled a few times, but one of my all-time favorite books, Fevre Dream, by George R. R. Martin, came to me through my hubby. 

        He's also quite impulsive--which I love, when it comes to careening the Amazon shopping cart around.

         I finished Mitch Albom's most recent novels, The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto. My husband heard the author talk about it, and rushed to order it, figuring I would enjoy it. I did. If I had to rate it, I'd probably give it 4 out of 5 stars. Why the low rating? A 5-star rating has to be reserved for my all-all-time favorites (I know, I gush a bit too much when it comes to books) like Freeman by Leonard Pitts, Jr., NOS4A2 by Joe Hill and Haunted by Chuck Palaniuk.)

         Albom's novel is narrated by Music, and follows the life of Frankie Presto, an incredible guitarist and artist. Albom interviewed a number of real-life musicians and singers (including Wynton Marsalis and Tony Bennett) so he could include them in the plot.

         My one complaint: it's a small size (as far as the perimeter) which makes it fatter than it needs to be, which makes it difficult to hold when I'm wavering between the world of literature and the world of drool (as I fall asleep, no matter how engaging the book is). 

       If you believe in the power of music, you might check out this book. The storyline might end up plucking you out of your world and into Frankie Presto's for a while as it strings you along--right up to the end of the author's note.