Wednesday, December 7, 2016

It’s About That Time…Again.

October 06, 2016  /  Amy Boukair


In a few precious weeks, the writer’s biggest dream/nightmare will be upon us – NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). The goal of which is to write a complete novel within the confines of the month of November. You can even attempt to finish a Work In Progress if you have one already going.
I have unsuccessfully attempted this feat with several of my novels – Ghosting, Indigo, and Shade. Ghosting is still stalled and sitting on the back burner, Indigo is finished and out in the world, but Shade has been scratching at the back of my mind for months now. I can tell a burst of the story is about to come out, but with NaNoWriMo, there’s an inherent pressure to push yourself to meet the insane timeline. Some people thrive on that initiative, but I often struggle with it.
I’ve always been a moody writer, not able to put a word to paper unless I was intensely inclined or inspired. This would typically put me in the category of hobbyist, and not a true writer, but I’m determined to break out of that box. Another novel under my belt would catapult me (in my mind) into the fully fledged upper echelon of real writers.
I know I want to get a sequel to Indigo out. I have a ton of ideas for that series rattling around my head. And even Shade has a long series possibility.
It will be done eventually. Of that I’m sure.
Can I at least finish Shade?
And will it be done by the end of November?
Stay tuned…

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Show Me



October 04, 2016 / Amy Boukair

Don’t tell me how much money you make; show me how you value the people in your life.

I’m not interested in the books you’ve read, show me what you’ve learned in your time here on earth.

I’m not concerned with discussing your politics; show me your concern for the welfare of all mankind – friend or stranger.

I don’t care what music you listen to; show me what moves your soul; what sparks your passion.

Don’t preach about your religion; show me your compassion, patience, and kindness in any given difficult circumstance.

Don’t brag about your accomplishments; show me how you’ve changed not even THE world, but A world – even if in a very small way.

I don’t care if you can’t dance or sing, run a business, build a bridge, or climb a mountain; show me all of your vulnerabilities, your weaknesses, your faults.

All of what makes you, you. All of what makes us human.

I’m listening.

I’m watching.

Show me.

Stupid Heart

September 25, 2016  /  Amy Boukair
saving myself
is hard.
doing what’s truly best for me
is near impossible
the heart wants what the heart wants
but the heart is weak
the heart has hope
the heart believes what it wants to believe despite the obvious facts
the heart is stupid
chain it up and throw away the key
stupid heart

I'm Good...

September 08, 2016  /  Amy Boukair


I’m good.
I’m really good.
For real.
And it’s nice.
For a change.
Times recently were when things weren't so good.
Things were black.
Blacker than black.
Darker than dark.
A deep hole with no bottom.
I could picture myself falling through that abyss.
That was beyond scary. 
But, no longer.
Chemistry is at work.
Balance has been achieved.
I know my limits now.
I know my threshold of bullshit too.
I now know the border of me and the unacceptable.
I now know what I deserve.
And it's definitely better than I've had.
Better than one that only wants the sanity; can't handle the crazy.
Realize that I'm both and all. At the same time.
I don't depend on anyone else so step off. Step back.
It's up to me.
It always has been; always will be.
Grab on for the ride if you want.
Or I'll leave you behind.
I'm off.
I'm out. 
I'm on my way up.
I'm good.
Things are really good.
And it's nice.
For a change.
For a while.
For a long while.
For the rest of my life.
Things will be good.
I know it.

Elude The Raven

August 07, 2016  /  Amy Boukair
she often glimpsed the shadowy feathers behind her
in the corner of her eye.
just barely out of sight,
but always there.
in the back of her mind.
unscrupulous. cunning. patient.
a flutter here or there.
an occasional peck or scratch.
rarely fatal.
but only rarely.
never revealing his true power.
his power to compel her weakened spirit,
to deceive her credulous mind;
to make waste to existing wounds of her heart,
scavenging what few slivers remained.
however,
the raven didn’t recognize she was a phoenix:
continually charred,
but repeatedly restored.
never unphased, but more vigilant.
not undamaged, but fortified.
her own brittle feathers a little more flame resistant.
whatever was necessary to survive.
to wake up just one more day.
to see the light of one more sun.
to take in the wind of one more breath.
only to be burned one more time.

A Poem For Tonight

October 04, 2015  /  Amy Boukair

Miles stretch.
Mind flurries.
Relentless uncertainties.
Thousands of insecurities.
Sentinel engaged again.

Hopes stockpiled for a rare sunny day.
Wishes Deferred.
Wait and see.
Wait and see.

If you don’t expect anything
You Won’t Be Disappointed.

It’s no way to live.

Fortitude tested.
Compassion maxed.
Trying to bend without breaking
and shattering into a million agonizing shards.
Leaves are starting to plunge to the earth.
The world around me is fading.
It’s the natural progression of things.
It’s the way of everything.

Everything.

I Remember

September 11, 2015  /  Amy Boukair
I remember the long and frantic evacuation of Terminal Tower and most other buildings in downtown Cleveland into a crowded and chaotic Public Square. Lots of questions were asked, but no answers were readily available. Little did we know then that just miles above us, the passengers of Flight 93 were revolting against their highjackers and making a brave stand against terrorists on a plane headed to the nation’s capital.
I remember forcing my co-workers to let me drive them to their homes and cars as I didn’t want them on public transportation since we didn’t know exactly what was happening. I still have the ticket stub from the parking garage that day that I never had to pay. It was the easiest I have ever left the downtown area; people yielding, allowing others ahead, waiting patiently for pedestrians to get to their own destinations and escape pods. I remember the fear of hearing powerful jet engines near the airport that we knew were no ordinary passenger planes, and wondering if we too, were under attack.
I remember desperately trying to reach my family via cell phone, and mercifully getting through to tell them I loved them amid the pandemonium and apparent doom.
I remember a lot of shock, fear, and crying.
I remember gas stations jacking up their prices in the uncertainty of events. Trying to find a newspaper the next day was near impossible. The rush on grocery stores forced some to close due to the onslaught of people and demand.
The thing I remember most is the change in the landscape of America that lasted a short time afterward. There was a camaraderie among Americans; a unifying of the country that I don’t think has ever happened before or since. A solidarity of intent and purpose to not be trodden upon by outsiders. We stood as One Nation for the only time I’ve seen in my lifetime. We not only comforted each other in our time of need, but we also supported each other in our effort to get through it. That feeling and time was fleeting but important for us as a country to pull through as strongly as we did.
I would later meet, work with, and become friends with someone who was in the World Trade Center on that horrible day. We basically shut down our office one afternoon to hear her story. She described the terrible events she personally experienced with courage and generally dry eyes, most likely out of necessity and our benefit than anything else. She answered our tentative probing questions with grace and poise; never flinching at our interrogation. Even as she spoke, I couldn’t imagine living the horror that she went through. To this day, she has my utmost respect for carrying on and embracing life as she has since then. I’m honored to call her a friend.

Every year on this date I reflect on the events of 9/11 and how it affected not only me but everyone in America.








On this day of reflection, I hug my son a little tighter. I’m a little more polite to strangers though I should be polite all the time. I’m a little more stoic; a little more introspective; a little more thoughtful.

Many days have passed since with their own burdens and pains, but I will always remember 9/11.

I will never forget.

Why Writing Is Hard.

June 05, 2015  /  Amy Boukair
My writing process in a nutshell:
  1. Write a paragraph.
  2. Internet break.
  3. Rewrite paragraph.
  4. Internet break.
  5. Scour iTunes to find the “perfect” writing music.
  6. Internet break.
  7. Delete paragraph and start over.
  8. Internet break.
  9. Rewrite paragraph again.
  10. Internet break.
  11. Refill coffee.
  12. Internet break.
  13. Rewrite paragraph, yet again.
  14. Internet break.
  15. Consider writing a completely different novel, in an entirely different genre.
  16. Internet break.
  17. Refill coffee.
  18. Consider never writing again.
  19. Internet break.
  20. Write next paragraph.
  21. Internet break.
  22. Repeat.

Le sigh...

The Genre Jumble

July 25, 2014  /  Amy Boukair


I’m beginning to feel Diana Gabaldon’s pain when trying to classify my novel, INDIGO. Is it a romance? Sure – there’s lots of romance in it. Is it science fiction? Yes – it has time travel elements in it, but it’s not too “sciency.” Is it fantasy? Hard to say – time travel could be categorized as fantasy as well. I should note - this is where Diana Gabaldon’s novels end up, though I’d personally be more likely to categorize her as historical romance. It’s a conundrum to say the least.

I’m In A Similar Quandary At The Moment As INDIGO Is Officially In Audiobook Production (Yay!); As I Filled Out The Book’s Vital Information, The Question Of Genre Again Came Up. WHAT IS IT?I Even Put The Question Up To My Facebook Followers, And Received The Following Answers:
  • Science Fiction
  • Science Fiction Romance
  • Definitely Romance
  • Romance
Weep In The Corner? It’s An Option…

While participating in Ohio Author Day last weekend, I was put on the spot to introduce myself and my book to the local cable access channel – and was fairly gobsmacked to try to pigeonhole the genre of INDIGO. It’s NOT just one genre. It’s in fact several. I stumbled around my usual sound bite, “It’s a romantic suspense novel, with a little bit of time travel thrown in for good measure…” or something similarly nonsensical. What does one say when their book crosses multiple genres?

You see where I’m going with this…the genre ultimately is reader specific. There are main genres, and now there are also a gazillion subgenres. AND, those subgenres can crossover as well. What’s an author to do when their novel doesn’t fit neatly into any single box?


Another option is to look at the novel as objectively as possible; to think like a reader about the overarching theme of the book. In the case of INDIGO, I think I have to sit in the romance box. The overall theme is love, and how far one would go to claim and protect it. Yes, there is the time travel element, but I don’t think it overtakes romance as the main theme, I think it only enhances it.

What else can an author do to resist being genre pigeonholed?

Summertime…And The Writing Is Easy-Ish

May 30, 2014  /  Amy Boukair
Summer is here! Well, at least warmer weather is here. I’m finally able to sit on my patio (my favorite writing spot) and write to my heart’s content. I guess technically I’m a seasonal writer. I just can’t sit in my office, even though there are two fairly bright windows, and be creative. I work from home for my real-life job, so I tend to consider that my “work only” space. But now that the temps are rising, I’m able to go to my creative space and write.

Having a dedicated writing space really helps to get the creative juices flowing for me. I’m sure there are plenty of authors that can be creative anywhere, but I’m certainly not one of them. While I may get idea inspiration from various locales, I need my ‘writing spot’ to put fingers to keyboard in any meaningful sort of way.

Even my writing spot has its own challenges though - my patio rafters have been commandeered by a family of sparrows, including a nest of hungry babies incessantly crying for sustenance; neighbors noisy lawn mowers; a constant flow of planes overhead (I’m near a small teaching airport); and even the house sounds that carry in through the back door of my son listening (and singing) to his music or playing video games. It can be hard to shut out all the noise, and I often resort to wearing headphones and listening to movie scores as I write if I can find one that fits the mood.

It sounds like I’m a temperamental writer, huh? That’s because I am! While I have gotten over having to “be in the mood” to write, I still need to get over the challenge of my creative environment. It can usually be done with minimal effort, but it’s still an effort.

I’m planning to finally finish Ghosting this summer (a paranormal thriller), and am very excited to see where this intriguing story takes me. Indigo was such a fun ride – I can’t wait to feel the accomplishment of typing –THE END – one more time. It’s definitely a feeling that can’t be compared to.

Here’s to a great summer! Let the writing commence!

Top Ten Things I Learned From My Mom

May 11, 2014  /  Amy Boukair
1.      I can do anything I put my mind to, so long as I do the work.
2.      I can be anything I want to be; no dream is too big.
3.      If I don’t expect anything, I won’t be disappointed – but not to give up hope.
4.      I am strong willed, and strong minded, but also strong hearted.
5.      My life will be hard, but it’s okay for me to be weak sometimes.
On the lighter side:
6.      How to play bridge (she was a Life Master ranked player, and unfortunately I’ve already forgotten how to play).
7.      A love for sports, books, word games and trivia (she encouraged me to try out for Jeopardy!; which I did).
8.      How to gamble and smoke (yea, yea, not the highest compliment).
9.      How not to cook (she was passable at best, and never used a spice other than Mrs. Dash).
10.   How to be a night owl. (I would regularly stay up with her to watch Johnny Carson. For the longest time, I couldn't get to sleep without hearing “Heeeeeeeeeeeeere’s Johnny!” To this day I prefer nocturnal activity to diurnal).

As with all Moms, there was good mixed with bad. It’s part of the human experience. As I get older and nostalgia kicks in, the bad starts to make less of an impression than the good - which is how it should be. Not a Mother’s Day goes by that I don’t miss her terribly.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom

The Ginormous Online Retailer Vs. The Indie Author

March 14, 2014  /  Amy Boukair
Once upon a time there was a Ginormous Online Retailer (“GOR”) who was friendly to independent authors, and encouraged them to sell their books in various mediums through their platform in exchange for a modest commission in return. They even created a separate company to help the independent author publish their books in print so they could hold physical copies of their hard-wrought words in their own hands. It was a land of milk and honey for the independent author; they could sell their books to their readers, and the readers in turn would share their honest opinions about those books for all to see. Other book lovers could see these reviews and decide whether it was worth spending their own money. It was a happy place for an independent author to focus their marketing energy, and see their sales rise as people left reviews of what they thought of the work. Everyone was a winner: GOR, the independent author, the reader, and the shopper.

Over time, GOR grew and grew; buying up bookclub and review sites, and an audiobook site to further the perception that they really were book friendly.


Then all of a sudden - and without the independent author, the reader, or even the shopper knowing - GOR started to erase the reader’s reviews. Hacking and slashing them from the internet forever, despite the cries of the authors and the readers who left the reviews. No matter how many times they tried to discuss the disappearing reviews with GOR, the independent authors were met with a stone wall. “We won't be able to provide further insight or assistance with your request,” was all GOR would say, leaving the independent author bereft and without a solution – and without the lost reviews. They were gone forever, never to be seen again.

-The End-

In all seriousness, what’s the deal GOR? (Amazon for those that haven’t caught on) For a company that at least used to claim to be book and independent author friendly – how does arbitrarily removing customer reviews help anyone? And doesn’t it in fact hurt everyone involved? We independent authors live and die by our reviews – both good and bad. By removing reviews you are hurting our sales, which in turn hurts your own bottom line. Where is the logic in that? I don’t claim to have business acumen at the level of an executive at the “World’s Largest Retailer” but even I know that makes poor business sense.

It is a rare person that buys anything online without reading the reviews first. It is part and parcel of online shopping experience. It is up to the buyer to decide if the reviews have merit, or even the owner of the product – not the platform merely displaying them. Buyers are savvier than you are giving them credit for.

Readers especially rely on reviews of books when deciding what to read next. We are a close-knit community who enjoys sharing our opinions and passing the word on what books we like, and what we don’t. And believe me, if we don’t like something we will advertise it to the world. We are both that savvy, and that fickle. Removing reviews is censorship of the worst kind – it’s a slap in the face to those that actually took the time to not only read a book, but then the time to sit at their keyboard, log onto your site and leave their honest opinion for the world to see.

Apart from trying to directly reach our readers to repost their reviews, there is little we authors can do to combat this. Attempts to deal with Amazon directly have had zero results. There is rumor that the reviews being removed are only those that state they received a book for free in exchange for a review, or that “ARC” is somehow targeted – this is untrue. As far as I can tell the review removals are completely and utterly arbitrary.


If someone out there in cyberworld has had success in having their reviews restored – please contact me and explain your black magic ways. In the meantime, apart from this blog post – I will be trying to directly reach out to those who have reviewed my book, begging them to repost their reviews if they can find it in their hearts to do so.

Way to stick it to the little guy Amazon.
-Amy L. Boukair

Water.

February 11, 2014  /  Amy Boukair
There are so many water analogies that can translate to life experiences: you can ride a wave of happiness, or you can crash onto the rocks of despair. The tide can be high or low in sync with your moods, or you can be cruising along without a care. You might be mentally drowning, or treading water, or just trying to stay afloat. You can feel as though you’re in a fog. Actions have rippling effects. There are emotional droughts and floods.
I had recently been riding a pretty big tidal wave of excitement with the initial release of Indigo, when I received news that brought me crashing onto those metaphorical rocks. The news (still as yet private - sorry), even though it was anticipated to eventually become a reality, rocked me to my core. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it and understand all of its implications before I can even speak about it directly in public. It just totally knocked me out of the general complacency that we all tend to fall into - that things will go on the way they always have; that things won’t change. Well, I’m here to tell you, things ALWAYS change. And sometimes they change quicker than you’re ready for them to.
So what’s the first thing I want to do? Write about it of course. Well, at least get some of these emotions out of my system. The tears fell yesterday when the news came, and still a little bit today, I admit. For me to continue being the “strong” person that I’m going to need to be, I had to get the weakness out of the way as early as possible. Today was a research day – something I tend to do a lot of when facing new challenges. I’m a firm believer that an educated person is a well-prepared person. I’m only scratching the surface of what I’ll ultimately have to deal with, but I’m at least on my way.
The point of this blog post? Expect the ‘maybe someday’. The unexpected will always be just that, unexpected. Not much you can do about that. Can you prepare at all for the ‘maybe someday’? Perhaps. But if you tried to count or even acknowledge all of the ‘maybe somedays’ that are out there, you wouldn’t have much time left to do anything else now, would you?
The ultimate point of this post is this: Life is short. Shorter than you can even imagine. In the blink of an eye your entire existence can change. What you hold dear can slip from your grasp in a heartbeat. Don’t let the contentment of everyday life interfere with prioritizing what is truly important.
Somebody cut you off on the highway? So what. Someone in the Express Lane with more than 12 items? So what. Don’t have the newest SmartPhone? So what. Nobody liked your latest selfie? SO WHAT.
Prioritize These Things: Hug your kids often. Be kind to strangers; you have no idea what anyone else is going through at any given time. Tell your loved ones that they are loved – and tell them often, even if it makes you or them uncomfortable. Be kind to your animals; you’re all they have. Be patient. Offer an unexpected kind word. Be brave when you don’t want to be. Do the right thing, always – even if nobody’s looking. Be thankful and gracious.
One of my favorite RED songs (the one that inspired my latest tattoo) features the following lines:

As I burn,
As I break,
I can't take it anymore.
I return to the place,
Where the water covers over everything.
Rescue me somehow.
I meant to ask the meaning or location of “where the water covers over everything” when I met them last autumn, but think I know what it is now - and it’s two-fold: It’s where yes, you can feel like you’re drowning, but it’s also a peaceful place. When you’re under water, you don’t hear all the noise that life can make. You’re not distracted by the peripheral chaos. You can focus on what’s really important.

I’m jumping into that water now. It’s time to focus. Life is short.

Ramping Up

October 23, 2013  /  Amy Boukair
I've spent the last couple of weeks working on peripheral projects for Indigo . I've completely revamped my website, and switched to a new host - Squarespace, which has some pretty cool templates that are fairly easy to work with. I think it's a more cohesive approach since my blog is now integrated into my site.
Unfortunately, the majority of my Beta Readers seem to have fallen off the planet, and I'm still waiting for the graphic designer to send me her cover ideas, but I'm still hopeful that things will come together quickly for my projected January 2014 launch date. The countdown is on, and I'm already starting to feel the pressure.
With that pressure though, comes excitement. I'm SO excited to finally have a novel to even release!  I'd originally planned to not edit anything until I had feedback from the Beta Readers, but think I may just have to dive in head first and just do the best I can with it. It might be time to print it out and red pen the crap out of it again.
Doing so will most likely change my attitude about Indigo from this: 
Book-writing.jpg
To this:
Book-writing-3.jpg
Can't wait!!!