Sneak Peek of Child of Destiny by George Elder

Welcome back to the Child of Destiny blog tour! Today, you lucky readers get an excerpt from Child of Destiny. But wait! That’s not all. To further whet your appetite, we also have a synopsis, and a little but about George Elder himself. Missed the first part of the tour? Click here to read Elder’s thoughts on Sci-fi and religion.

 

Child of Destiny (The Genesis Continuum trilogy #1) by Dr. George H. Elder

Edited by Julie Tryboski & Illustrated by Randall Drew

 

THE ANCIENTS BELIEVED THE PURPOSE OF LIFE IS TO EVOLVE SPECIES THAT CAN PERPETUATE THE POSSIBILITY OF CONTINUED EXISTANCE THROUGH THEIR THOUGHTS AND DEEDS — WITH THOUGHT BEING A SEMINAL POWER THAT CAN OVERCOME THE DARK FORCES THAT DRIVE ALL THAT IS TOWARD NOTHINGNESS (“NOTLOH THE OLDER” OF HARKAD PRIME).

CHAPTER 1: ISHTAR’S CHILD

 

Kara had worked tirelessly piling heavy boulders around her hillside cave’s entrance, leaving a thistle-covered opening on the mound’s top that was barely wide enough for her to squeeze through. Over the years, successive layers of soil and jagged rocks were heaped on the boulders, and the humble shelter could now resist the fiercest storm and harshest winter. Long razor grass, thorny briars, and shrubs flourished on the stout construction, providing Kara’s home with a camouflaged barrier that served well against both four- and two-legged predators. The only drawbacks were meager lighting, invading spiders and centipedes, and the poor ventilation provided by the narrow entrance. Yet these were relatively small prices to pay for security. Moreover, the shelter was adjacent to a spring-fed stream that froze for only part of the winter. Of course, there was a constant need to collect firewood, gather fruits, nuts, and berries, and hunt, but Kara was proficient in these arts. She had to be, for such is an outcast’s lot.

She sat cross-legged on the cave’s floor, bathed in a shaft of sunlight that poured through the entrance. The flint tip of her spear needed sharpening, and she deftly chipped away tiny flecks of stone with a hard rock. Kara’s father had taught her the ancient art of blade-making, not that Torok ever envisioned his daughter would depend on such a skill to sustain a solitary existence. No, he had felt she was destined for great things within the tribe, which was only appropriate for the child of a Labateen chieftain such as Torok. And Kara grew to be a most unusual girl, a precocious child who tagged along behind hunting parties and played violent war games with the tribe’s boys.

By her fifth season Kara’s deftly thrown spear was regularly taking down prey that was nearly as large as she, all of which were proudly dragged back to the great cave. She even learned the old storyteller’s sacred litanies, repeating without error the lengthy and complex tales to the delight of family and friends. Torok was proud of Kara’s intelligence, strength, and courage, and considered her an ideal daughter. Never a man of many words, he once told her, “Blood of my blood, you are a very special child. God has blessed you in many ways and you make my heart proud.” Kara basked in the warmth of his approving smile, and found confidence in the tribe’s universal acknowledgment of her rare talents.

Yet neither Torok nor Kara knew about the awful mark she bore high on her scalp, the one her mother had worked tirelessly to conceal since Kara’s birth. The Labateen were the true Children of God, and only the most perfect in form could be accepted into the tribe. And to all appearances Kara’s long, thick, red hair, green eyes, hazel skin, and lithe athletic body were ideal, the quintessential elements of a Labateen woman. Indeed, all was perfect, except for a dark brown birthmark that hid underneath a luxurious mane of hair.

Leah, her mother, was horrified when she first saw the blight, although there was no one to share her shock in the isolated birthing cave. Her labor was long and difficult, and there were times Leah thought death would be a welcome reprieve. And a lonely, painful demise for mother and child was the inevitable penalty for a failed childbirth. This most sacred process was overseen only by God –- and God alone would dictate if both mother and child survived. But survival was only the first step, for then came the mother’s responsibility of ensuring that the child’s body was perfect in all ways. This was God’s test of a mother’s will to abide by the sacred laws that guided the Labateen for countless generations. These were the same laws Torok was sworn to uphold as the tribe’s Dorma, and thus Leah felt particularly driven to follow the ancient codes.              

The birthmark’s grotesquery compelled Leah to contemplate bashing Kara’s tiny head against the jagged walls of the birthing cave, the floor of which was richly littered with tiny bony reminders of Labateen mother who had done their duty. Every Labateen woman knew that allowing an unfit or marked child to live would introduce impurity into what were God’s chosen people. The only right and merciful thing was to end such a star-crossed life swiftly. Leah roughly grabbed her writhing daughter, who still wore the blood and slippery wetness of a new life. She stared into the infant’s eyes, and suddenly her will to follow the old ways evaporated. Perhaps it was the long torment of giving birth, or maybe it was the blood loss, but Leah felt that God was guiding her thoughts and deeds. ‘Yes, God must want this infant to live,’ she thought, ‘And to live for a divine purpose.’

Leah deftly severed the umbilical cord with an obsidian blade and suckled the crying infant. With every passing moment the bond between mother and child grew stronger, as did Leah’s conviction that she was doing God’s work. But Leah’s convictions were the stuff of sacrilege, and that would lead to a dreadful fate for any Labateen. However, it was customary for a new mother to remain away from the tribe for ten suns after giving birth, which was yet another trial to help ensure that only the most able would walk amongst the Labateen. Leah took the time to make dyes from nearby plants and berries, being well versed in the art of marking. Indeed, as the daughter of an Elder and wife of the tribe’s Dorma, Leah was expected to be an exemplary marker and healer.

She carefully dyed her infant’s head, hands, and feet deep black, all signs that the child was one with God’s earth by thought and deed. She repeated the procedure over the coming days until the rich dyes were absorbed by Kara’s skin, hiding any sign of the blemish. When the day came to rejoin the tribe, friends and relatives saw the baby’s markings and she was quickly dubbed “Kara,” meaning, “Companion of God.” Many in the tribe thought it odd that Leah didn’t change Kara’s markings as the child matured, but few dared question a Labateen aristocrat. The query might be seen as an insult, and only blood could assuage such folly. The ploy served well in giving Leah’s daughter time to grow a thick and luxurious mane of dark red locks that hid the sin, at least until the age of ascension.

The spear’s tip was nearly ready, and Kara examined it in detail. A good spear and sharp knife were as essential as stealth, speed, and strength when hunting. Yet the hunt had gone poorly for seven suns, and Kara did not know why. Normally, late spring provided ample game, although one had to be ever watchful for the swift grenlobs that followed the migratory herds. The large, bipedal reptiles were armed with sickle-shaped claws and serrated teeth that turned many hunters into prey. However, a hunting party of Labateen was more than a match for any animal. Even a small party could bring down a tork, a hulking, wooly, four-legged brute with a nasal horn taller than a man. Yet tribal lore aptly described a lone hunter as the personification of a “sad thing,” and Kara was reduced to stalking relatively small rodents and marsupials, with an occasional fish supplementing a meager vegetarian diet.

She preferred hunting in the nude. But it was a chilly morning, so Kara donned a pair of well-worn moccasins and the long rawhide tunic her mother once wore. Although much-patched, the tunic was one of Kara’s prized keepsakes, and as she put it on thoughts of that terrible day wafted anew. The Right of Ascension takes place during the 14th springtime of every Labateen’s life, and the ritual is overseen by the tribe’s Elders. For women, Ascension entails having the head shaved with dull blades, being tattooed with sacred symbols, and silently enduring purification via the excruciatingly slow application of steaming hot water to the clitoris. The unremitting pain often caused visions, and these were a blessing from God if their meaning could be divined.

 

Want to know more? Here’s the synopsis I mentioned:

 

Child of Destiny (The Genesis Continuum trilogy #1) by Dr. George H. Elder

The universe is nearing its inevitable end, everything is being rapidly devoured. The last hope of a dying universe is to awaken the Seeker, a legendary metaphysical being known only through ancient tales. The Seeker has the capacity to link the entire universe; they alone may be able to spark the rebirth of the universe.

Many of those that remain desperately want existence to continue. As the remaining races struggle to survive and fight over saving existence, lofty ideals give way to brutal pragmatism. Missions are sent out in search of the Seeker. One such mission encounters Kara an outcast noblewoman of the Labateen, a Stone-Age warrior culture. Kara is well versed in the Seeker’s litany, beyond what would be considered coincidence –to Kara the litany is simply the ways of God. Will Kara be able to help locate the Seeker?

Those who wish the universe to end in disorder, with no more than a whimper are not willing to sit by as others race to alter the end universe. As these opposing forces mount their defenses, racing to see their goals are achieved one question stands out…

Is Kara the key?
 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dr. George H. Elder has a Ph.D. from Penn State in Speech Communication and a Masters Degree in nonfiction Writing from UNH. He also has a very eclectic work and personal history. He has been a college teacher, custodian, upper-level scholar, drug addict, weight lifting coach, bouncer, and much more. He has authored numerous articles in the popular press and even a scientific text book that examines the neuropsychological basis of human communication. He has also addressed subjects such as philosophy, free speech, weight training, drug use, nutrient effects, street life, and a wide range of other issues.

His varied life experiences and education give him a unique and interesting perspective, and he often weaves philosophical insights and pathos into his texts. His books are action-oriented, but they do not have simplistic plots wherein good vs. evil or some other hackneyed approach is used. Instead, Elder employs plot shifts that allow the characters and readers to question the relationships we often take for granted. For example, a hero may do great wrongs while a species once perceived as malicious can be revealed to be honorable and wise. This offers refreshing and exciting perspectives for readers as they delve into Elder’s texts, for one never knows what to expect.

 

You can buy a copy of Child of Destiny here.

To learn more about George Elder, visit his website here.

Hope everyone enjoyed the sneak peeks! Happy reading, happy writing!

Guest Post by author George Elder

Today we are hosting Dr. George Elder, author of Child of Destiny, the first book in his Genesis Continuum series. While many would shy away from introducing religion into a Sci-fi book, Elder embraces it. Below, he explains why.

 

On Sci-Fi: The Question of Religion

By Dr. George H. Elder

 

I know few Sci-Fi devotees who like the idea of shoving religious beliefs down the throats of readers, either covertly or overtly. Indeed, Sci-Fi is often used as an escape from such travails. Yet there are several examples of stories that have strong religious overtones, such as Dune and For I am a Joyous People. Even in Sci-Fi comedy cartoons we find the Robot Devil character in Futurama. The 50s are replete with numerous Sci-Fi morality tales with religious themes (e.g., The Nine Billion Names of God, The Last Question, The Reformers, Childhood’s End, Immortality, Inc., etc.). In contemporary times we have The Accidental Time Machine, Escape from Hell, Nothing Sacred, and many more. Religion and Sci-Fi are often conjoined for better or worse, and have been for many generations.

When writing Genesis, I thought religion a worthy area to explore—although not dwell on. For example, Kara is from a religious society with a strong idea of what God is and fairly advanced metaphysical concepts considering their stone-age technology. She is a Labateen, a tribe which views itself as God’s only chosen people. They are a rule-bound people who adhere to a religion that views physical and intellectual perfection as the ideal and the rule of the strong as only natural. Thus beating or killing someone who slights you is perfectly acceptable and being born with a birth defect warrants instant death. As for Kara, she firmly believes God has destined her to do great things, despite being an outcast.

Kara learns and experiences much during her adventures. Eventually she discovers her people are a manufactured species and her personal history is nothing more than a plaything of an advanced species. She is left adrift—without any guiding purpose or reason for being. She hates herself and the concept of God—whom she wishes to kill. It was a fascinating exercise to develop this descent into hopelessness, for being so reduced allowed a subsequent elevation that makes us care for Kara all the more.

As for the crew members who have taken Kara aboard their time/space craft, Anita has a strong belief in the “Great Maker,” but her guiding principles are a set of rigid moral values that go beyond religion. For example, she would rather die than harm another, and believes she has no right to live if her deeds or misdeeds cause the direct or indirect death of another. These beliefs are incompatible with Kara’s, and the two have a profound impact on each other’s views.

Ezra believes in his family above all else, and yearns to be back with his wife and children. They are his moral and ethical center, and function as a belief system in their own right. Ezra’s physical condition declines as the story progresses and his yearning to return to kith and kin increases. However, his inherent fear and reluctance to act wanes. He becomes a leader of sorts, and puts Anita, Ral, and Kara in their places when the need arises.

Ral is an artificial intelligence that finds religions interesting, but he does not subscribe to them. He finds the beliefs and views of most biological beings defective in one way or another, but in the end he falls in love. He even sacrifices himself to achieve an altruistic end, albeit an act that will come back to haunt the entire crew.

In a greater sense, the entire story revolves around the issue of being versus non-being, which allows us to examine the themes fundamental of all beliefs: is there life after death and what is the purpose of our existence? I will not claim to provide any definitive answers, but I believe the reader may come up with some ideas that go well beyond those stated in the texts. For example, it is implied throughout the text that adhering to strong beliefs and ideals in the face of circumstances that vitiate them is dubious. Conversely, beliefs form a large part of what we are, and when we lose them—we also lose part of ourselves.

Indeed, the title Genesis is what the story revolves around; although it certainly differs from the Biblical account in many respects. The accounts concerning God, destiny, free will, and many other issues stray from standard conceptualizations, and I hope they invite exploration on many levels.

 

Stay tuned for more on Child of Destiny. My next post will include a synopsis and short excerpt. Hope to see you back here soon!

Is that a Shadow I see???

Why yes! Yes it is! It is a Shadow on the Wall… on a bookshelf near you! Not sure what I’m talking about? See the awesome trailer below. Still need more incentive?? Read my review, where I gush uncontrollably about the awesomeness of this book here.

Happy Release Day Pavarti! You done good, kid.

Review of Shadow on the Wall by Pavarti K. Tyler

Recently I was given the opportunity to get an ARC of the new literary fiction novel Shadow on the Wall by Pavarti K. Tyler. (For those of you not in the know, that’s Advanced Release Copy.) It’s probably my favorite thing about blogging. If I just told you whether or not I liked it, my answer would be full of profanities ending with the word “YEAH!” That being said, I’m going to try to remain professional while conveying why this book rocks my socks off.

The Set Up:
The heir to a multi-billion Euro company, Recai, wakes up in the middle of the desert with no clue why or how he got there. Thankfully, he is taken in by Hasad and his daughter Rebekah, despite the danger his mere presence poses. The RTK is everywhere, punishing anyone for anything close to breaking Shariah law, while flaunting it themselves. This only the beginning of a dangerous journey for Recai, and heartbreak can be found in every step. But there is a plan for him, a purpose. Every injustice, ever slight to human decency Recai witnesses prepares him for a destiny he has asked for his entire life. The question is, how long will it take him to realize it?

Yeah, it’s that good.

Here’s why you’ll love it:

The world needs a Batman. Especially where people are oppressed. I think Ms. Tyler chose a great setting for her story, a Muslim city also home to Jews, Christians, etc. There are terrible, terrible things that religious zealots do in the name of their god, and it’s everywhere in the city of Elih. I loved this aspect of her story because it was wonderful to see a superhero stand up for issues that I hear about on a daily basis. As great as the Joker and Catwoman are, it’s nice to see the real bad guys get punched in the gut for a change. If I could, I would send Recai all over the world to fix some of this ridiculousness we let ourselves get talked into. Too bad he’s fiction.

The world needs a Non-WASP superhero. Part of the reason I asked to review this book was I because I found the idea of a superhero that wasn’t from an English-speaking, or at least Anglo country refreshing. Hell, even the aliens, (Thor, Wonderwoman, Superman,) all show up white and speaking English. It’s not how I want my daughter to see the world. Yes, there are plenty of American heroes, but there are Indian and Arab and Jewish and Asian ones too. Or at least there should be.

You really understand the characters, even the unlikable ones. This might be my absolute favorite part of the whole book. Many times I have seen the first superhero story/comic/movie set up the great nemesis/super villain for episodes to come. Shadow is no exception. At one point in this book, the character who I see to be the Ultimate Nemesis does something pretty gruesome. What I love was that as I read the chapter, all I could think of was, “I would totally do the same thing in that situation. [The Ultimate Nemesis] let that guy off easy.” There are even some characters you start out hating that find redemption in the end, and most importantly: you are happy about it. That character it seems, didn’t need to die as horrible a death as you once thought. Ms. Tyler has found a way to put you in the shoes of each one of her characters, good or bad, and I think it’s an astounding piece of writing.

Why you wouldn’t like it:

(I had to think pretty hard on this one. The ideals behind this book are very accepting and tolerant, so I wouldn’t want to imply that by not liking the book, you are not accepting and tolerant. So here’s what I’ve come up with.)

You don’t like superhero fiction. Hey, it’s not for everyone. It’s for me and then some, but I can’t see, let’s say someone who needs to always be uplifted enjoying this book. Are there uplifting parts, absolutely, but you have to trudge though some pretty deep, dark places to get there. Which leads me to my next point…

You don’t like violence in your literature. Then stop reading now. Part of the reason superheroes are created is to combat evil. This book has it. Recai is not there to stop pickpockets. I’m talking to you, Mom. This book is great, but you couldn’t make it. It’s too rough for you. (Love you!)

And that’s all I got. Read this book. It comes out in May. You can pre-order it at Amazon. Start sending Parvati gifts now and she might let you review it too… maybe.

Happy reading, happy writing… ahem… the sequel, Pavarti… ahem.

Farsighted Monday: Fin

Hello Everyone,

Today is, sadly, the last Farsighted Monday. I hope you’ve enjoyed the series. To wrap things up, I’m going to let you read one more chapter from the book… but just one!

Now please enjoy Pizza Party from chapter 7…

At Sweet Blossoms, Mom makes a huge fuss over my “becoming a ladies’ man, and with such pretty ladies too.” I keep my hands clasped on my cane to keep myself from strangling her. After making sure she’s thoroughly embarrassed me, Mom closes up shop early, swings by the pizza parlor, and delivers the three of us to an empty house.

“Dad’s out on another job interview,” Mom explains, laying out paper plates and napkins and extracting a two-liter bottle of orange pop from the fridge. “Let’s save him a couple of slices, okay?”

Shapri flips open the lid off the first pizza box. “Ick, ham and pineapple,” she says, moving on to the next box. “Now here’s what I’m talking about, pepperoni with extra cheese. Yum!”

“Pineapple and ham is Alex’s favorite,” Mom announces from the kitchen, as she pours pop into Dixie cups.

“Yes, it is,” I say, nudging Shapri out of the way, so I can plop a few slices onto my plate. I don’t care how early in the afternoon it is. I’m hungry. I shove a slice in my mouth and the grease drips down my chin.

Shapri crunches on a slice of the pepperoni and cheese.

“Are you eating the crust first?” I ask; the tip of the pizza goes in mushily, not crunchily.

“Of course,” Shapri says. Her voice is muffled since her mouth is completely full of food. “That’s how you’re supposed to eat it, save the best for last.”

“Weird,” I say, taking another huge chomp of my pizza from the intended end.

“Do they have pizza where you come from, Simmi?” Mom asks.

“Yes,” Simmi answers curtly.

“Well, why aren’t you eating anything? Don’t you like pizza?”

“Yes, I like pizza very much. But…”

I pause before tearing into my second slice. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Well, I don’t eat meat,” Simmi explains. “But it’s okay. I’ll just pick it off.”

“Oh no,” Mom groans. “I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry.” She comes over to the table and places a roll of paper towels in front of Simmi with a thud. “You can use this to blot at the pizza.” Mom comes up behind me and places her hands on my chair. “Okay, I’ll let you kids enjoy your party. I’m headed out to the garden to water the tomatoes. When Dad comes home, send him outside, okay?” Mom kisses me on the head and takes her leave.

Shapri and I continue eating our pizza like we’ve been starving our entire lives. Simmi blots politely at her slice, picking off the toppings and tearing it into small bits and placing them in her mouth. A few minutes later, Dad arrives through the front door.

“Hi, Alex,” he calls from the next room, while removing his shoes. “Hi, Alex’s friends.” He hangs up his jacket and makes his way over to the kitchen. “I hope you saved me a slice or two.” He stops walking all of a sudden, freezing as if he were a deer about to get hit by a semi-truck on a lonely country road.

“Hi, Dad,” I say. “Mom says she wants you to meet her outside in the garden.”

Dad clears his throat and walks back toward the front door. None of us say anything until he’s gone outside.

“That was weird,” Shapri says. “I wonder what his problem is.”

“Dad’s kind of been a bit unusual lately,” I say, hoping we can talk about something else.

“The way he was staring at me. Like I’m a ghost or something.”

From outside, Dad’s voice floats in and hangs above our conversation. I can’t quite make out the words, but I can tell he’s angry. Really angry.

“Um, I better be going,” Shapri says, shoving one last bite into her mouth and then brushing her hands off against each other, making a loud clapping noise.

“You don’t need to leave because of him,” I say. I guess Dad still ranks number one on the people I don’t like list. I don’t want him acting like this around my guests, whether I invited them of my own accord or not.

“No, I have to go,” Shapri says with tons of conviction, while throwing her paper plate away under the sink and then heading toward the door. “My dad’s here to walk me home. He told me he’d pick me up, and now here he is.” Shapri throws her coat on over her shoulders and shoves her feet into her slip-on shoes. “I’ll see you both at school tomorrow. Happy birthday again, Alex. Bye.” Only about thirty seconds pass between the time Shapri decides to leave and the time she has disappeared through the front door.

Simmi takes a sip of pop, slurping loudly. “I wonder what that was all about,” she says.

“No idea,” I whisper in case Dad is listening. “I wonder why her father didn’t even come in to say ‘hello.’  Strange.”

“Forget coming in. He didn’t come at all. No one was outside. Shapri just walked off by herself.”

 

Thank you to all my visitors and to dear Emlyn for letting me be a part of her Blog Tour!

You can learn more about Emlyn Chand here.

You can learn more about Farsighted here.

Happy reading, happy writing!

Blog Tour Notes

THE BOOK:  Alex Kosmitoras may be blind, but he can still “see” things others can’t.  When his unwanted visions of the future begin to suggest that the girl he likes could be in danger, he has no choice but to take on destiny and demand it reconsider. Get your copy today by visiting Amazon.com’s Kindle store or the eBook retailer of your choice. The paperback edition will be available on November 24 (for the author’s birthday).

THE CASH PRIZES:  Guess what? You could win a $100 Amazon gift card as part of this special blog tour. That’s right! Just leave a comment below saying something about the post you just read, and you’ll be entered into the raffle. I could win $100 too! Please help by voting for my blog in the traffic-breaker poll. To cast your vote, visit the official Farsighted blog tour page and scroll all the way to the bottom. Thank you for your help with that.

THE GIVEAWAYS:  Win 1 of 10 autographed copies of Farsighted before its paperback release by entering the giveaway on GoodReads. Perhaps you’d like an autographed postcard from the author; you can request one on her site.

THE AUTHOR:  Emlyn Chand has always loved to hear and tell stories, having emerged from the womb with a fountain pen grasped firmly in her left hand (true story). When she’s not writing, she runs a large book club in Ann Arbor and is the president of author PR firm, Novel Publicity. Emlyn loves to connect with readers and is available throughout the social media interweb. Visit www.emlynchand.com for more info. Don’t forget to say “hi” to her sun conure Ducky!

MORE FUN: There’s more fun below. Watch the live action Farsighted book trailer and take the quiz to find out which character is most like you!

http://apps.quibblo.com/static/flash/qwidget/qwidget.swf?s=&theme=black&quiz=fDlEAGP

Review of Farsighted by Emlyn Chand

We’ve all felt socially awkward at some point in our lives. For many of us, that time was adolescence. Yet imagine, that with all the normal teenage trials, acne, hormones, angst, the strain for independence, etc., you had even more things to worry about. This is the life of Alex Kosmitoras.

Alex is blind, but so well adapted to his lack of sight that it could hardly ever be considered a disability. It does however, make him stand out even more from his peers, attracting unwanted attention from the school  bully Brady. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, suddenly Alex begins to hear voices. Not only does he hear voices, her hears the sounds of death.

What Alex begins to understand is that he is hearing the future of the girl he likes. Simmi is the first girl in Alex’s life who seems to be genuinely interested in him, and as far as he’s concerned, she’s the totally package. How is he going to save the newly discovered girl of his dreams? How can he keep his parents from having him committed for hearing voices? How could he blame them if they did?

These are just some of the problems face by the protagonist of Emlyn Chand’s YA novel Farsighted. A definite new path for the genre, this die-hard vampire lover really enjoyed it. There are some fresh new things I think you can only get through well written, indie publishing: characters with disabilities, main characters with non-European/American origins, and (thankfully,) teenage girls who like the same boy and can abstain from the stereotypical cattiness to name just a few. Below, I’ve listed some of the best and less than stellar aspects of an overall great book.

Why you’ll like it:

• You haven’t read this story before. Just because there’s a blind psychic does not mean you know what’s going to happen. Which leads me to my next point:
• You don’t know what’s going to happen. Then ending threw me for a loop. If you figure it out before you read it… let’s just say there might be more psychics around than those you are reading about.
• It has everything you love about YA. Like all good YA books, it sympathizes if you’re YA age. If you’re an adult (like me,) reading, it reminds you of your youth without the skin flare ups or voice changing.
• The bullies get what they deserve. Just wait and read. You’ll see what I mean. As a parent, I am happy to find any book that address the subject of bullying in our schools. As a teen, it has to be satisfying to at least read some retribution, even if you can’t get it in real life.

Why you may not like it:

• You don’t like the YA genre. If pining over the girl of your dreams and trouble with your parents understanding you isn’t your thing, neither is this book. Or most in the genre for that matter.
• You refuse to read indie published books. This is a mistake, but I know I can’t change everyone’s mind about this. Let me just say that Ms. Chand has put a great deal of time and effort into her craft and the results are up to snuff with just about anything you’d see from the traditional publishing houses.
• The runes distract you. They did me too. I tried reading them before every chapter at and it seemed to take away from the story, especially due to the change in tenses. I can say that at the end, when I was trying to skip ahead to see what happened, these little snippets kept me from cheating and helped sate my curiosity just enough.

I was also able to interview Emlyn Chand on my blog and asked her some of the burning questions I had once I finished the book. I strongly suggest that you not read this interview until finishing Farsighted, as it does contain spoilers. You can find the interview here.

If you are interested in learning more about Emlyn Chand, you can find her website and where to purchase Farsighted here.

Happy reading, happy writing!

Blog Tour Notes

THE BOOK:  Alex Kosmitoras may be blind, but he can still “see” things others can’t.  When his unwanted visions of the future begin to suggest that the girl he likes could be in danger, he has no choice but to take on destiny and demand it reconsider. Get your copy today by visiting Amazon.com’s Kindle store or the eBook retailer of your choice. The paperback edition will be available on November 24 (for the author’s birthday).

THE CASH PRIZES:  Guess what? You could win a $100 Amazon gift card as part of this special blog tour. That’s right! Just leave a comment below saying something about the post you just read, and you’ll be entered into the raffle. I could win $100 too! Please help by voting for my blog in the traffic-breaker poll. To cast your vote, visit the official Farsighted blog tour page and scroll all the way to the bottom. Thank you for your help with that.

THE GIVEAWAYS:  Win 1 of 10 autographed copies of Farsighted before its paperback release by entering the giveaway on GoodReads. Perhaps you’d like an autographed postcard from the author; you can request one on her site.

THE AUTHOR:  Emlyn Chand has always loved to hear and tell stories, having emerged from the womb with a fountain pen grasped firmly in her left hand (true story). When she’s not writing, she runs a large book club in Ann Arbor and is the president of author PR firm, Novel Publicity. Emlyn loves to connect with readers and is available throughout the social media interweb. Visit www.emlynchand.com for more info. Don’t forget to say “hi” to her sun conure Ducky!

MORE FUN: There’s more fun below. Watch the live action Farsighted book trailer and take the quiz to find out which character is most like you!

http://apps.quibblo.com/static/flash/qwidget/qwidget.swf?s=&theme=black&quiz=fDlEAGP

Farsighted Monday — The Third

Have you read Farsighted yet? Tell me what you think! It’s really stuck with me. I had a dream about a blind guy named Alex, ha! Anyway, for today’s Farsighted Monday, I’m posting an interview with the author, Emyln Chand. She was so nice to take the time out of her ridiculously busy schedule, so I’d like to thank her for all that she does.

Feel free to add questions as comments if I didn’t ask them. Who knows? Maybe she’ll answer them. Also:

***THIS INTERVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS!! WAIT TO READ THIS UNTIL YOU FINISH THE BOOK!!***

Okay, you’ve been warned.

Tell us how you came up with the idea for Farsighted.

Everything started with a single image—my face in these tacky oversized sunglasses reflecting out at me from the car’s side mirror. I was daydreaming while my husband drove us across Michigan for my sister’s wedding. Something about my image really struck me in an almost horrific way. I felt the glasses made me look blind but found it so weird that there was still a clear image within them; it seemed so contradictory. At the time, my book club was reading The Odyssey, which features the blind Theban prophet, Tieresias. I started thinking about what it would be like to have non-visual visions of the future and began forming a modern Tieresias in my mind. Lo and behold, Alex Kosmitoras was born. I didn’t want him to be alone in his psychic subculture, so I found other characters with other powers to keep him company. Thank God for my poor fashion sense. : )

Why did you decided to make this a YA novel?

I actually just wrote a blog post about that (it’s here). It all comes down to the enjoyment factor. YA is my favorite genre to read, so it’s only natural that I would choose to write it as well. I like the vulnerability and changeability of the characters. I love the ease of language and the connection that is created by writing in first person point-of-view. But mostly, I like the readers of YA. YA readers WANT to enjoy books .Their primary goal is not to dissect the literary merit of a story but rather to find a bit of entertainment. YA readers are also extremely loyal to authors they like and can border on fanatical. It makes you feel good as an author

Which character do you relate to the most?

My favorite character would have to be Shapri; she’s kind of the person I wish I could have been like back then. She’s strong, always true to herself, and won’t let anyone disrespect her. Sure, she has fears, but we all do. Shapri is the kind of girl I would love to be friends with. You know she’ll always go to bat for you when you’re too tired to step up to the plate.

If Alex barely likes Shapri, how did they almost kiss?

Hmmm…  I don’t know. I guess she kind of grows on him. He’s also a pretty disoriented kind of guy.

There are plans for a sequel; are we meeting new psychics, and on what kind of scale?

We’ll get to know the viewpoint character’s family members much better. There may be a few new psychics as minor characters, but the series will basically stick to 5 major characters.

Brady picked on Alex and only harassed Simmi and Shapri as they related to Alex. Kids are cruel. Why we the girls spared and what the heck is Brady’s problem with Alex? Who picks on a blind kid?

That’s what Alex would love to know! Brady has his own issues, obviously. It’s not very nice to pick on anyone, let alone to pick on Alex. I can promise that we’ll learn much more about Brady and what his deal is later in the series.

Give us three words that tell us why we should read Farsighted.

Entertaining. Relatable. Different.

How did the idea of Novel Publicity come about?

About a year ago, I thought the only way to be a writer was to land an agent and get a traditional publishing contract, which is what a lot of aspiring writers think. Then in December of last year, I started my blog and, more importantly, became addicted to Twitter. Within a couple of weeks, I amassed a pretty large following. Just like that. A few months in, I realized I had a unique gift for social media and launched my book marketing business, Novel Publicity. One month after that, my business made enough to sustain me, and I was able to quit my lackluster day job. Since then, I’ve only been getting better at managing social media and using it to promote my clients’ books and my own blog. In the past few weeks, I’ve had to hire seven new people, so something’s working right!

What advice would you give to authors, especially those considering indie publishing?

My advice is this:  Have fun with your writing. Don’t put pressure on yourself or your story and don’t try to fit either into some type of mold. Not every work HAS to be published, but every work will teach you something, and it will make you a better writer. Find the joy in writing, and you won’t go wrong.

What type of book have you been dying to read that hasn’t been written yet?

I’d like to read more YA with ethnically diverse characters. There aren’t very many books out there with colorful casts, and some books throw in characters of other races as asides (like the Patel twins and Cho Chang in Harry Potter). I really want to see people of other cultures represented as major characters.

What’s on your nightstand/e-reader right now?

I’m currently reading Matched by Ally Condie on my Kindle and am absolutely loving it.

What would you like readers to take away from Farsighted? Is there a different message for adults, (who often read YA novels,) than for the target age group?

First and foremost, I hope that readers will enjoy themselves. My primary goal is to tell an interesting story that people will find entertaining and be glad they read. Secondly, I’d like to infuse contemporary Young Adult fiction with a bit more diversity and teach readers about the beauty of other cultures and other ways of life. I also hope that Farsighted is a book that leads to introspection—what would I do if put in Alex’s place? Did Alex ever have a choice or was this path his destiny? What would it be like to see the world the way he sees the world?

I like to think of anything I write as being kind of like a Disney movie, in that the primary audience will be children, but there are extra tidbits for the adults too. Farsighted has been infused with a great deal of research about runes, classic mythology, and Eastern spirituality, but you don’t need to understand any of that to be entertained by the story.

Thank you again Emlyn! Next week, I’ll post my review of Farsighted, and after that… well, I haven’t decided. Just more goodies I guess. In the near future I will be addressing the new ABC series Once Upon a Time,  because I haven’t decided if I like it enough yet and I need to write it out.

Happy reading, happy writing!

Blog Tour Notes

THE BOOK: Alex Kosmitoras may be blind, but he can still “see” things others can’t. When his unwanted visions of the future begin to suggest that the girl he likes could be in danger, he has no choice but to take on destiny and demand it reconsider. Get your copy today by visiting Amazon.com’s Kindle store or the eBook retailer of your choice. The paperback edition will be available on November 24 (for the author’s birthday).

THE CASH PRIZES: Guess what? You could win a $100 Amazon gift card as part of this special blog tour. That’s right! Just leave a comment below saying something about the post you just read, and you’ll be entered into the raffle. I could win $100 too! Please help by voting for my blog in the traffic-breaker poll. To cast your vote, visit the official Farsighted blog tour page and scroll all the way to the bottom. Thank you for your help with that.

THE GIVEAWAYS: Win 1 of 10 autographed copies of Farsighted before its paperback release by entering the giveaway on GoodReads. Perhaps you’d like an autographed postcard from the author; you can request one on her site.

THE AUTHOR: Emlyn Chand has always loved to hear and tell stories, having emerged from the womb with a fountain pen grasped firmly in her left hand (true story). When she’s not writing, she runs a large book club in Ann Arbor and is the president of author PR firm, Novel Publicity. Emlyn loves to connect with readers and is available throughout the social media interweb. Visit http://www.emlynchand.com for more info. Don’t forget to say “hi” to her sun conure Ducky!

MORE FUN: There’s more fun below. Watch the live action Farsighted book trailer and take the quiz to find out which character is most like you!

http://apps.quibblo.com/static/flash/qwidget/qwidget.swf?s=&theme=black&quiz=fDlEAGP

Farsighted Monday — The Second

Happy Halloween everyone! Welcome to another Farsighted Monday! Have you read it yet? No? Well then maybe you need a little appetizer… like the entire first chapter perhaps??

Today I’d like to share an excerpt from Emlyn Chand’s hot new paranormal novel, Farsighted (it just released on 10/24). Before diving in, check out this teaser for the book:

Alex Kosmitoras may be blind, but he can still “see” things others can’t. When his unwanted visions of the future begin to suggest that the girl he likes could be in danger, he has no choice but to take on destiny and demand it reconsider.

Okay, now that you’re caught up, on to the excerpt! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Farsighted: Chapter 1

Our hero is about to embark on a journey. Life as he knows it is quiet, boring, and predictable, but it’s also comforting and familiar. That will soon change.

Today is the last day of summer, but I’m not doing anything even remotely close to fun. I’m just lying here in Mom’s garden, running my hands over the spiky blades of grass—back and forth, back and forth until my fingertips go numb. Until everything goes numb. I sigh, but no one’s around to hear.

“Alex,” Dad yells from the kitchen window. “Dinner.”

Already? How long have I been out here? I spring up from the ground and the grass springs up with me, one blade at a time – boing, boink, boint. The sounds would be imperceptible to any normal person, but they roar inside my ears. I picture an army of earthworms raising the blades as spears in their turf wars and smile to myself.

Dad opens the back door and calls out to me again. “C’mon, Alex. What’s taking you so long?”

Grabbing my cane, I shuffle over to the house, brushing past him as I squeeze inside. The kitchen reeks of fast food restaurants and movie theaters—butter and grease. That means it’s breakfast for dinner. We do this every Sunday night, because Mom goes out to garden club and Dad doesn’t know how to cook anything else. Plus it’s cheap.

Breathing heavily, Dad plunks some food onto both our plates and collapses into his chair. He groans and asks me to pass the butter, or rather the “bud-dah.” He grew up in Boston and every once in a while the accent works itself into his speech.

I slide the tub to dad; he reaches out and stops it before it can glide clear off the table.

“What’s this?” Dad asks.

“Uh, the butter. Obviously.”

Dad’s voice raises an octave. “I know it’s the butter, so don’t get smart. Why’d you give it to me?”

“Uh, because you asked me to.”

“No, I didn’t.” He exhales as if the wind has been knocked out of him by an ill-timed punch to the stomach. “Guess you must’ve read my mind.” He chuckles to himself and slides the cool metal knife into the butter and scrapes it across his toast.

Dad and I don’t usually talk to each other unless Mom is around, asking about our days, chatting on, working hard to create those warm and fuzzy family moments we don’t seem to create naturally. And even though Mom has reassured me a million times, I know that Dad resents me for being born blind.

I can tell he would have much rather had a son like Brady—the same guy who insists on making my high school experience as difficult as possible. Nothing’s worse than knowing that your own father thinks you’re a loser.

Dad and I finish our meal in silence and my mind wanders.

He rises suddenly from his chair, breaking apart my thoughts. “Let’s get this table cleared before your mother comes home,” he says, without pronouncing the r in cleared.

I stand too and pick up my plate and glass. Guess I’ll pass on that fifth biscuit.

“Your mother has a surprise for you.”

I smile for my dad’s benefit. My parents are horrible at keeping secrets. Last night, I overheard them talking in their room. Mom was bragging about how she found some “cute” new shades on Wal-Mart’s clearance rack.

About ten minutes later, the tires of Mom’s van crunch on the gravel in our driveway with lots of little pings and a big cuh-clunk. As usual, she steers directly into the pothole we don’t have the money to repair. Sometimes I wonder if she does it on purpose.

The door creaks open, inviting a comforting floral fragrance into the house. Mom always smells like flowers—today it’s tulips and jasmine. She steps lightly across the floor and places a wet kiss on my cheek. When she turns to greet Dad, I wipe at the left-over moistness with my shirt sleeve. I’m getting too old for this kind of thing—been too old for a while now actually, but this doesn’t seem to matter to her.

“How was your day, my little sapling?” she asks. I really wish she would stop calling me her “little sapling.”

“Hi, Mom.” I hug her, because it makes her happy.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

I snap my fingers, which is how I say “yes” without actually saying it, kind of how most people nod their heads. I’m excited to learn, to have something to do other than lie in the grass, to possibly make a friend. More than likely though, things won’t change. I’ll still be an outcast. I’ll still be all by myself, but at least I’ll know where I stand. No more wondering.

“A sophomore already! I hope I can keep up enough to help you with your homework,” Dad says, acting like a completely different person than he was just a few minutes ago. He has this way of being nicer to me whenever Mom is around. I know it’s for show, and it pisses me off.

Ignoring him, I turn toward Mom. “So, Dad told me you’ve got a surprise for me?” I’d rather get this over with quickly before they try too hard to build up the suspense.

“Oh, yes,” she chirps, fluttering over to the other side of the living room, pulling out the drawer of the small table in the corner, and rustling the unpaid bills inside. She comes back over to me and places a small bag in my lap.

“Wait,” Dad says as my hand is about to reach inside the bag. “Before you open that, I just want to say that I know we haven’t been able to give you as many back-to-school supplies as you need this year. Your backpack is starting to tear and your boots are scuffed…”

I had no idea my boots were scuffed, but now that he’s pointed it out, it’s all I can think about.

“And all of this is my fault,” Dad continues as I wonder how badly my boots are scuffed. Where? On the heel? On the toe?

Mom clicks her tongue and rubs Dad’s shoulder sympathetically, dragging her fingernails across his thick shirt. The scratching sound draws my attention back to his melodramatic speech.

“I want to make you a promise, as soon as I get a job we’re going to buy all of those things for you. Okay?”

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t need anything.” Except for you to be nice to me even when Mom isn’t around, and, oh yeah, a friend or two.

“That’s my brave little oak tree,” Mom says, giving me another hug. I swear, sometimes I think she’s from another planet, or at least another time period. But still, she loves me, even if she’s constantly saying stupid things like that.

When they seem to have nothing more to say, my left hand reaches into the bag and brings a pair of sunglasses up into the palm. I run my right hand over them, trying to make out their shape. They’ve got hard plastic frames and cushiony rubber ends for where they sit on top of the ears. They’re broad in front; the rim goes in a straight line all the way across about a half an inch above the nosepiece. These aren’t the normal bookworm glasses. They’re cool guy glasses.

“We thought you deserved a new pair of cool guy glasses since you’re practically sixteen,” Mom says.

Ugh, I hate when she uses the same words as me. I make a mental note never to say, or think, the words “cool guy glasses” again.

“And they’re even your favorite color!” Mom shouts, unable to contain herself.

Then they’re green. I “see” color through my nose and like green best because so many of the best-smelling things are that hue, like grass and leaves and vegetables and limes. But with green glasses, I’m afraid I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb—a sore green thumb. I smile and reach out my arms. Both my parents come in for a hug. I whisper a quick prayer for tomorrow and head to bed.

The next morning, my alarm starts yelling at six o’clock. Is it excited or trying to give me a warning? Well, time to get this over with, time to see if this year will be any different from all the crappy ones before. I reach over and flip the off-switch and stumble about in a sleepy haze, getting ready for the first day of the new school year.

On the way to the bathroom, I stub my toe on some bulky object that’s just sitting in the middle of the hallway, not even pushed up against the wall. I kick it to the side—clunk, straight into the wall—and continue to the bathroom. I shouldn’t need my cane to get around my own house. That had to be something of Dad’s. What, is he actually trying to kill me now?

I turn the shower knob and wait for the water to get warm. It’s taking forever since I’m the first one up today. Aggravated by the wait, I go back into the hall to find that object again. Stooping down, I attempt to work out the shape. Rectangular, with a handle, made of leather or something leather-like, with little metal clasps. A briefcase, I guess. But Dad’s a contractor, why would he need a briefcase? Why now? I flip the clasp, eager to find out what’s inside. But the case doesn’t open. Brushing my fingers across the top again, I find a twisty-turny thing on either side. A combination lock. If it’s so important, why’s it laying here in the middle of the hall like a discarded sock?

A wall of steam pushes into my back, returning my attention to the running shower. I return the case to its original position in the middle of the hall and go to wash up for school. Afterward, I towel off and put on my favorite shirt, which is soft and made of flannel. I wear my favorite pants too—they’re baggy with big pockets on the sides. As I’m pulling them on, I feel a tickle at my ankles where the hem now rests two full inches above where it should be. I groan, realizing I must’ve grown over the summer. How much taller can I get? I’m really tall now, at least a couple of inches over six feet, but we just don’t have the money to keep buying me new clothes every time I grow another inch.

To add the finishing touch to my first-day-of-school look, I slip my new cool guy glasses—er, sunglasses—on over my nose. The lenses are extra thick. Probably, if I wanted, I could sleep in class and no teacher would ever notice. But I’m not like that; I like to learn.

“Honey?” Mom calls from the end of the hallway. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I yell back. “Just a sec.” I fiddle with my boots, trying to stuff my pants into them, so no one at school sees they’re too short. I’m sure this makes me look even more like a teenage Paul Bunyan than usual, but I don’t care. The boots are comfortable and help to support my ankles. Anyway I could probably wear nothing but expensive designer clothes and still be considered a freak.

Before standing, I run my hands over my feet. The right boot has a long narrow indentation across the toe. They are scuffed. Great. With a drawn-out sigh, I pick up my backpack and walk over to the kitchen where Mom is waiting. She has way too much energy for this early in the day.

“Yogurt with berries fresh from the garden,” she says, placing a glass in my hand. “You can eat in the car.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I jab a heaping spoonful into my mouth and finish it in five huge bites, then grab my cane from the hook near the front door, loop the cord around my wrist, and follow Mom out to the driveway where the rattly old family van is parked. As she shifts the car into drive, sadness washes over me. I’m almost sixteen, but I’ll never be able to drive. I’ll always be forced to rely on my parents for everything, my entire life.

We drive the twelve minutes to school, while Mom talks non-stop about new beginnings and the “carefree happiness of youth.” When the van stops, I take a deep breath, and wrap my fingers around the door handle, ready to find out what’s in store for me this year at Grandon High.

“Hey, Alex?” Mom stops me just as I’m about to step out onto the curb. I pause and wait. “Have a good day at school.”

“I will.”

“Dad’ll pick you up and bring you to the shop in the afternoon, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, Mom.” The longer we draw this scene out, the higher the chances of her kissing me on the head or calling me her “little sapling.” I just can’t risk starting out the year on such an embarrassing note.

I get out of the car and head straight inside the building. A bunch of kids are hanging around outside, chatting away about their summers, getting back into the swing of things. They don’t notice me as I slink by and make my way to my first hour, English—I memorized the location of all of my classes during the summer, so I wouldn’t embarrass myself by getting lost or arriving after the bell rings.

Entering the classroom, I drop my backpack on the floor, and prop my cane between the seat and the desk; that way it’s near at hand and easy to get later. Nobody else is here yet, not even the teacher. Bored already, I decide to go get a drink of water from the fountain. As I’m rounding the corner of the familiar hall, the air gets heavy like it does after a rainstorm. The aroma of wet grass and asphalt overpowers my senses. This definitely seems out of place for a high school hallway.

“Hey, Alex, how was it today?” Dad asks in a much better mood than usual.

I turn around in shock. What is my Dad doing here? Mom just dropped me off. Dad should be in bed still, not here at school embarrassing me.

“Dad?” I ask tentatively. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

“I’m not your daddy, you no-eyed freak!” comes the voice of Brady Evans, the running-back of the school’s Junior Varsity football team—my biggest enemy.

The air becomes lighter all of a sudden, as if a vacuum cleaner has sucked up all the humidity. The fragrance of sweat and Axe deodorant spray fills my nostrils. I’m totally confused now.

“Brady?”

“No, it’s your daddy. Loser…” Laughter comes from at least six different people, most of them girls.

“Sorry,” I mumble and head back to English class, forgetting to get my drink of water. Brady and his entourage follow me in, making jokes at my expense.

I put my head down on my desk, wishing I was a chameleon, so I could become one with the desk and fade out of view—being a reptile couldn’t be that much worse than having to endure high school.

“Mr. Kosmitoras, could you please come here?” the teacher calls, butchering the pronunciation of my name.

“Um, it’s Caas-me-toe-rh-aas actually,” I respond, getting up and walking over to the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. Brady and his friends are still laughing. I hope they’ve moved onto a new topic.

“Here are your textbooks for the year. We’re starting out with this basic reader,” she says, plopping a thick book into my hands. “Then we’ll be moving on to The Odyssey and finally Romeo and Juliet.” She places these into my outstretched palms as well.

“Thanks,” I mutter and head back to my seat. I begin skimming the basic reader, flipping through several pages at once, randomly trailing my finger over little snippets of text. Since no school around here caters specifically to visually impaired kids, my teachers special-order textbooks in braille for me. That’s all I need to get by, really. With very few exceptions, I can do anything other kids my age do. I’ve been this way my whole life; I know how to make it work.

Bit by bit, the other students trickle into the class. Someone who smells like cherry candy sits down across the room. Then, a series of loud thuds comes from that direction—she must’ve dropped her books.

“Simmi! Simmi, Jeez! Don’t make so much noise!” says some boy, who sounds a bit like Brady, but I don’t think is Brady. I don’t know anybody named Simmi, so this girl must be a new student. Why’s this boy being so mean to her already? Hope rises within me. Maybe she’ll be an outcast too; the two of us could team up.

The bell rings, taking away the cherries. I don’t pay any attention to the teacher as she introduces herself to the class. Instead, I think about the strange things that have been happening today. What was in that briefcase in the hall this morning, and why couldn’t I open it? Why did I think Brady Evans was my dad? Why do we have to read Romeo and Juliet this year in English class? We’re less than five minutes into first period, and my hopes for the new year are pretty much dashed.

Blog Tour Notes

THE BOOK:  Alex Kosmitoras may be blind, but he can still “see” things others can’t.  When his unwanted visions of the future begin to suggest that the girl he likes could be in danger, he has no choice but to take on destiny and demand it reconsider. Get your copy today by visiting Amazon.com’s Kindle store or the eBook retailer of your choice. The paperback edition will be available on November 24 (for the author’s birthday).

THE CASH PRIZES:  Guess what? You could win a $100 Amazon gift card as part of this special blog tour. That’s right! Just leave a comment below saying something about the post you just read, and you’ll be entered into the raffle. I could win $100 too! Please help by voting for my blog in the traffic-breaker poll. To cast your vote, visit the official Farsighted blog tour page and scroll all the way to the bottom. Thank you for your help with that.

THE GIVEAWAYS:  Win 1 of 10 autographed copies of Farsighted before its paperback release by entering the giveaway on GoodReads. Perhaps you’d like an autographed postcard from the author; you can request one on her site.

THE AUTHOR:  Emlyn Chand has always loved to hear and tell stories, having emerged from the womb with a fountain pen grasped firmly in her left hand (true story). When she’s not writing, she runs a large book club in Ann Arbor and is the president of author PR firm, Novel Publicity. Emlyn loves to connect with readers and is available throughout the social media interweb. Visit www.emlynchand.com for more info. Don’t forget to say “hi” to her sun conure Ducky!

MORE FUN: There’s more fun below. Watch the live action Farsighted book trailer and take the quiz to find out which character is most like you!

http://apps.quibblo.com/static/flash/qwidget/qwidget.swf?s=&theme=black&quiz=fDlEAGP

Farsighted Monday — The First

Hello and welcome to my little part of the Farsighted Blog Tour! To start things off, I’d like to introduce you to the author, the delightful Ms. Emlyn Chand. I’ve had the opportunity to get to know her over the past few months through the Novel Publicity Network, and besides being a genius when it comes to indie book do-it-yourself PR, she’s an amazingly talented writer as well. Also, my kid is in love with her bird, Ducky, the Novel Publicity mascot.

So, all that being said, here’s a guest blog post Emlyn has done for us on the top 5 ways to kill your love of reading. Also, be sure to check out the rest of the tour info located at the bottom of the post.

Congratulations on your publication, Emlyn!!

This is a guest post by Emlyn Chand, author of Farsighted

Did you resolve to read more this year? Maybe you’ve dubbed this year as the year you finally start your own book club. To be successful with either of these goals, you’ll need to keep that all-consuming passion for reading alive. Here are five examples of what NOT to do.

I have been guilty of each and every one of these bibliophile misdeeds. To avoid making these mistakes, it helps to be cognizant of what they are and how they may put-off your love of reading. My list is, of course, not exhaustive. Please feel free to add other ways in which your enthusiasm for the written word has been destroyed or derailed.

1. By taking too long to finish reading a particular book – many a decent book have been utterly destroyed for me simply because I took too long to get through them. Sometimes this is because of a busy work or personal life that interferes with my time that is generally allotted to reading; others it is because I am reading the wrong book.

2. Because of reading the wrong book—what makes a book wrong? Some people say that if a book does not grab you in the first 50 pages that you should give up reading it. I don’t know if I, however, subscribe to an exact number of pages that must be read before giving up. Sometimes books get started a bit late. Jonathan Safran Foer’s “Everything is Illuminated” for example takes a while to get heated up, but once it’s there, this is one of the most incredible books.

3. Through turning your leisure activity into a chore—if reading as a hobby is very important to you, it’s best not to subject yourself to reading materials that can be deemed more as work than pleasure. A classic example of this phenomenon is graduate school. I am not suggesting that you forego higher education to maintain your zeal for the written word; rather i’d like you to understand that you may undergo a 2-, 3- or even 5- year hiatus in this instance.

4. In choosing to miss out on other activities to sit at home and read—so you’re a book-worm that probably means you, like many others who share your passion, are an introvert. That’s great, but don’t use reading as an excuse to miss out on some of the other things life has to offer, like a social life. Don’t get too caught up in the fictional realm that you forget that life exists outside of the pages of a novel!

5. Upon assigning too much meaning to fictional characters—Loved ‘Twilight’ and now find yourself pining for a boyfriend just like Edward Cullen? No man even comes close? Surprise, surprise. Never measure real people up to invented ones, everybody loses. Similarly, if you find a glimmer of someone you know in a villainous character, you may start subconsciously assigning some of the fictional player’s deeds to your real-life loved one. Don’t do it!

Blog Tour Notes

THE BOOK:  Alex Kosmitoras may be blind, but he can still “see” things others can’t.  When his unwanted visions of the future begin to suggest that the girl he likes could be in danger, he has no choice but to take on destiny and demand it reconsider. Get your copy today by visiting Amazon.com’s Kindle store or the eBook retailer of your choice. The paperback edition will be available on November 24 (for the author’s birthday).

THE CASH PRIZES:  Guess what? You could win a $100 Amazon gift card as part of this special blog tour. That’s right! Just leave a comment below saying something about the post you just read, and you’ll be entered into the raffle. I could win $100 too! Please help by voting for my blog in the traffic-breaker poll. To cast your vote, visit the official Farsighted blog tour page and scroll all the way to the bottom. Thank you for your help with that.

THE GIVEAWAYS:  Win 1 of 10 autographed copies of Farsighted before its paperback release by entering the giveaway on GoodReads. Perhaps you’d like an autographed postcard from the author; you can request one on her site.

THE AUTHOR:  Emlyn Chand has always loved to hear and tell stories, having emerged from the womb with a fountain pen grasped firmly in her left hand (true story). When she’s not writing, she runs a large book club in Ann Arbor and is the president of author PR firm, Novel Publicity. Emlyn loves to connect with readers and is available throughout the social media interweb. Visit www.emlynchand.com for more info. Don’t forget to say “hi” to her sun conure Ducky!

MORE FUN: There’s more fun below. Watch the live action Farsighted book trailer and take the quiz to find out which character is most like you!

Take the Quiz! Which Farsighted Character are You?

http://apps.quibblo.com/static/flash/qwidget/qwidget.swf?s=&theme=black&quiz=fDlEAGP

Coming Soon to a Blog Near… Here.

Starting October 24th, every Monday I will be hosting the delightful Emlyn Chand, author of the new YA novel Farsighted, Winner of the WritersType First Chapter Competition (September 2011). Here’s a little about the book:

 

Alex Kosmitoras’s life has never been easy. The only other student who will talk to him is the school bully, his parents are dead-broke and insanely overprotective, and to complicate matters even more, he’s blind. Just when he thinks he’ll never have a shot at a normal life, a new girl from India moves into town. Simmi is smart, nice, and actually wants to be friends with Alex. Plus she smells like an Almond Joy bar. Yes, sophomore year might not be so bad after all.

Unfortunately, Alex is in store for another new arrival—an unexpected and often embarrassing ability to “see” the future. Try as he may, Alex is unable to ignore his visions, especially when they begin to suggest that Simmi is in danger. With the help of the mysterious psychic next door and new friends who come bearing gifts of their own, Alex must embark on a journey to change his future.

 

Stay tuned! Happy Reading, Happy Writing!