An oldie but a classic:

Click here to view the video on YouTube.

A new take on a classic:

Click here to view the video on YouTube.

And what if Batman was your roomate?

Click here to view the video on YouTube.

Dallas is my dog, by the way, not a child.

Ins’t it funny how this instinct works? Just a few days ago, I’d watched an episode of How I Met Your Mother where Barney—the scamp of the group—bought out all the chicken wings in the bar and was licking them one by one until his friends picked his side in an argument they were having. And a not long before that, I’d watched the John Hamm episode of Saturday Night Live where there’s a brilliant take on Mad Men involving two idiotic, arrogant clients who lick every sandwich on the complimentary platter so that nobody else will eat one before pitching their product—a hula hoop with suspender straps for lazy people who want all the fun of a hula hoop without doing any actual work.

Licking food is gross. It may get played for a laugh on TV, and it may be cute when a fuzzy little dog does it, but in real life it’s one of the fastest ways to lose friends and alienate people. Trust me on this.

I’ve seen it played out countless times online. When I was just starting out with Twitter, I ran across an author whose entire tweet history consisted of direct replies to thousands of individuals with the same message—essentially, “Buy my book!” followed by an Amazon link. Day after day I watched my feed fill up with his messages to other Twitter members, always the same message. I felt genuinely bad for the guy, because with every spammy tweet he sent out, I knew he was doing far more damage to his book than good. Most who might otherwise have been interested in his book would have been sufficiently turned off by the gross self-promotion, and as an author, he was losing credibility with every tweet he sent.

A sane man would have unfollowed him, but I kept watching just to see if he’d ever stop spamming and start posting actual tweets. To this day, I don’t know whether Twitter kicked him off or he just gave up, he just slipped off my tweet feed one day and never returned.

I’ve seen it played out on Facebook, too, where authors will post comments to posts that have nothing to do with them, and include links to buy their books. Or they’ll spam someone else’s fan page with links to their own book. Or they’ll post comments promoting their books on other people’s threads at sites like Kindleboards and IndieAuthors.com—because, you know, it’s WAY too hard to start their own thread. It’s a frustrating for all parties concerned because it comes across as arrogant and disrespectful at worst, incompetent at best.

My point in saying all this isn’t to discourage promotion. Far from it. But don’t promote by licking. Promotion should be fun and engaging, and the most effective promotions are one where the audience feels like they’re getting something out of it.

There’s some relationship advice guys get early on (and I’m sure gals do too) that basically goes like this: Don’t try too hard. Trying too hard comes across as desperate and clingy, and that does the opposite of what you want. As with relationships, it’s best to let all parties know what’s on the table and if they want it, it’s there. If not, it won’t do any good to sacrifice your self-respect for it.

I wish I could say that I knew the forumla for successfully marketing a book. I don’t. All I know is what doesn’t work. And as I explore new ways to market my book, I’m asking myself a simple question first: Is this the equivalent of licking food? If it is, I won’t do it.

By the way, Dallas eventually did eat all those Cheerios, in case anybody was wondering.

I wanted my own glory, not God’s.

I wrote my first novella in 1997 in 21 days. I don’t even know how many words it was; I threw the computer it was written on in a dumpster sometime in 2005 without saving any of my writing. I sent it to a manuscript critique service and they politely told me to keep working on the craft. So I started writing a novel, a book with characters I loved and absolutely no idea where the plot was going or even what it was about. Though I figure I wrote about 120k words and wasn’t quite halfway done, I never considered it much more than an exercise in writing.

I began my first real novel in March, 1999. It’s a thriller. I finished sometime in the summer of 2003, when I began working on my second novel, a crime novel. I finished that one in a couple of years, and between the two, I felt the crime novel was better. In 2005, I sent a query to an agent who couldn’t wait to read it, then—upon reading the manuscript—told me that too many parts were icky and he could tell I’d never been around a good preacher (based on the interactions of two characters in the story). I was crushed.

Maybe crushed isn’t the right word. I felt like someone had basically declared my identity a fraud. I’d let myself down, I’d let God down, and I’d let my church down. Talk about a shotgun to the ego.

I gave up writing because of that rejection. I felt so scarred deep within my soul that I lost my love for the craft. I buried myself in a low-pay job and made only a few half-hearted attempts to write again. I did write a third novel, a fun story but barely comprehensible. I tried to rewrite my crime novel for secular markets. And then I started with a fresh sheet of paper on a rewrite of my first novel, a story I genuinely believe has some great potential once I mature enough to write it.

From 2006 until 2011, I kept working on this first novel. I’d write, and I’d find myself stuck in a second act sag, so I’d clean-sheet it again. After a few clean-sheet drafts, I started mixing and matching the best parts of each. And believe it or not, the first act of that novel is some of the best writing I’ve ever done. Problem is, it goes nowhere in act two.

A friend of mine went to Hollywood in 2006 and had been urging me to consider screenwriting. I’d dabbled in screenwriting, even finished a whole screenplay, so I knew I had it in me.

In 2007, at a point where I’d pretty much given up on myself as a writer, I took my entrance exams and went off to business school for a master’s degree. Living on campus, I started working on a screenplay called Driving to BelAir. In ’09, I rushed through to finish that screenplay and sent it off to my friend in Hollywood for critique. It still wasn’t right and I’m not sure either of us could accurately pinpoint where it went off track.

In 2011, I sent myself to Hollywood to look into the Act One Program, and while there, I did some damage to a ruptured disc in my low back. The muscles in my spine tried to shift the bones away from the rupture and by the time I returned home, I could barley walk. The pressure on my sciatic nerve left my left leg weak and greatly reduced my mobility. I got an appointment with a back specialist but that appointment was over sixty-days out—in the meantime, it was all I could do to get out of bed, even with a cane.

And so, somewhere in the midst of all that pain, I dragged out the screenplay for Driving to BelAir and began making a novel out of it. I got about halfway done when my surgery date came up. After surgery, my writing slowed as I had painkillers and rehab to keep me distracted. But I finished it, and I revised it, and I fixed some of the big problems with it, and I made it a story I’m proud of.

But the best part is, I published it on Kindle and Nook.

Considering all that was going on at that time in my life, I consider the fact that anyone with a Kindle or Nook can buy and read Driving to BelAir to be a major triumph. I couldn’t drive myself at the time I wrote the novella, some mornings it took twenty minutes to get out of bed. Some days I had to wear pajama bottoms because jeans—even oversized jeans—put too much pressure on my back.

Writing is something that I always wanted to do, something I always felt a calling for. But it seems to happen more in times of adversity than not, when everything else is stripped away and all I can do is write. Writing is my fallback, my therapist, my companion. I suppose I’ve built writing up to something bigger than it should be, something larger than it needs to be. And maybe that’s why I struggle so much with writing.

After putting myself out there and receiving some great reviews amidst horrible sales, I’m back to work on that first novel. It’s going slow but it’s going. And I haven’t lost the irony that after all these years, I’ve come full circle in my journey as a writer.

Among the many things I first became acquainted with in college was Kat Williams, a
pro-marijuana (among other things) comedian whose Pimp Chronicles DVD is equal parts silliness, social commentary, and a scathing, profanity-laced analysis of the human condition. Williams’ humor works so well because so much of it rings so true regardless of who you are and where you grew up, and he can say things in his stand-up routine that most people wouldn’t dare say in everyday life

During the show, he jokes about one of his friends being so angry that he “hates on bacon.” Now, anyone who’s read my blog in the last week knows by now, I road rage. So even though the whole bit about hating on bacon stepped on my toes, I found it hilarious.

Last fall, I was riding with an old friend when we nearly got hit head on by a beat-up SUV full of toothless hillbillies driving on the wrong side of the road—and before you pass judgement, this statement is quite literal, shirtless-overalls and all. The driver of said SUV then flipped us off and raced away to a Walmart parking lot.

The exchange angered us both. My friend couldn’t stop ranting about it. He kept going through scenarios of what he should have done, how he should have chased them down, etc. We passed a cow pasture, and in that cow pasture was a wide gravel road with one cow standing there, watching traffic go by. My friend pointed at the cow and started cussing furiously, to which I responded with the title of this post, “Dude! You’re hatin’ on a COW!”

Isn’t it funny how emotions blind us to reality? It’s also funny how easy it is to transfer anger from a place where it’s likely deserved to a someplace it isn’t. And when we’re in the heat of the moment, that cow seems as justified a place as any to throw some anger.

I’ll admit it, I’ve done it. I’ve hated on cows. Though, to be fair, I’ve long held the belief that cows are a great threat to humanity. Sure, they look dumb and unassuming, but I’m willing to bet when they’re circled around their feeders chewing hay, they’re also plotting the downfall of humankind. Orwell was a visionary, but it will be the cows, not the pigs, who rise first.

Yeah, I don’t have any idea where that last paragraph came from, either.

Regardless, anger is something I’ve been working through in my own life. It’s a hard habit to break, especially since finding the root of anger can take months and months of deliberate introspection and self-therapy. Even when you find the root, there’s no guarantee you’ll heal from it. A lot of people do, maybe even most people. But some of us just keep on hurting and keep on being angry at cows.

All I can tell you, from my own experience, is that misdirected anger can be like an emotional cancer. It can sabotage relationships, causing us to build up walls and hold others outside. It can make us attack anyone whose opinion doesn’t match our own, regardless of whether they have personal experience contradictory to ours or higher education or specialized knowledge on the subject. It can make us bitter and defensive and judgmental, none of which are qualities conducive to success. Worse still, it can make us dwell on our own failures and shortcomings, which only perpetuates more failure and more shortcomings.

In essence, anger sucks. It sucks for the person harboring it, it sucks for everyone around them.

I know all this from experience.

A lot of people have read Driving to BelAir and commented about how much of a jackass the main character is at times. Truth be told, he’s a jackass because I’ve been a jackass. I hope he’s found redemption by the end of the book in much the same way that I hope I’m on the road to redemption in my own life.

When I yelled out in that car, “Dude! You’re hatin’ on a COW!” my friend started laughing. We started talking about Kat Williams, and we forgot about the toothless hillbillies. Then we grilled some steak and smoked some cigars and never mentioned the toothless hillbillies again.

I wish all the issues in my life could be that simple to fix.

There’s some great lure to the mythos of coach and team, a lure that propelled NBC / Universal’s Friday Night Lights to cult status. And the scene described above, closing out the second episode of the fourth season, perfectly exemplifies that mythos.

Let’s face it, the reality of having someone scream and yell and push you to perform beyond your body’s limits absolutely sucks. Having somebody push you around when you’re out of line sucks. And being driven to push through even in the face of certain defeat goes against everything that’s born into us. Yet we feel a collective swell of pride during those moments when adversity is faced with steely resolve, when the will to win means more than the ability to win.

Granted, sometimes there’s not a lot of difference between a coach and a bully. But there is a difference.

A coach operates with with a goal in mind. Regardless how loud they yell, how hard they shove, or how nonsensical their commands seem, in the end one can look back and see the building blocks of an end goal. A good coach makes that goal winning, whatever winning looks like in the circumstance. A great coach makes winners, and winning doesn’t make one a winner, being a winner is a matter of character, strength, and dignity.

In other words, it’s not about whether you win, it’s about how you win.

We all want to be great. Just not everybody wants to go through the pain it takes.

I’d wager that most of us who played any kind of athletics at any point in their life can attest that not all coaches are great and not all coaches inspire greatness. Some are just there to collect a paycheck, some just don’t know how to do anything but bully and intimidate. Maybe we get that experience more often in life than not, because when we see a great coach—whether on TV, in movies, or more rarely, in real life—there’s a near universal attraction. Even people who aren’t sports fans will watch and adore Hollywood’s take on the coach.

Maybe it’s because that idealized coach represents something we are all want, something we’re all born with a need for. Call it the God instinct, that innate craving for some ultimate authority. Call it a psychological need for discipline and shaping. But we all have this sense that greatness lies within us, waiting to be released like the proverbial masterpiece of sculpture hidden within a solid block of granite.

The ideal coach is always there. Whenever the player or the team is going through a dark time, the ideal coach pushes them even harder than normal, forces them to see how much more they’re capable of than they ever believed. The ideal coach doesn’t accept excuses, doesn’t take no for an answer, and takes command of the situation with absolute authority.

Is it any wonder that Sherwood Baptist church broke through to mainstream movie success with a film about a football coach and a underrated team?

Eventually, we all hit a place where we need a coach. Maybe it’s our friends, our parents, a shrink, or the guy slinging drinks at the local saloon, but there comes a point where we just need someone to give us that extra push to make it through. We need someone we can’t bluff, we can’t BS, and we can’t bribe to go away. It’s universal, crosses genders and generations. I can imagine that four thousand years ago, people still needed that same push they need now.

But imagine this—somewhere around you, someone needs you to be their coach. Maybe it’s someone on your Facebook friends list. Maybe it’s a co-worker or a subordinate. Maybe it’s someone you see every day, someone you eat breakfast with or cook dinner for.

Here’s the thing, we all need a coach. And sometimes the best thing a coach can do is just punch you on the arm and say they’re proud of you and really mean it.

So what are you waiting for? Go find someone you’re proud of, go punch ‘em on the arm, and tell them. Everybody needs a coach, so go out and be that coach to someone who needs it. And if you do, you might be surprised at who’s there when you need them, too.

I use to joke about having one of those de-motivational posters with a poster of a NASCAR crash and the caption, “Road Rage: The Art of Making Lifelong Enemies During a Fifteen Minute Commute.”

People just don’t get the joke.

Someone once suggested I replace the NASCAR picture with a picture from a traffic jam. Like, for real.

What would be the fun in that?

I love NASCAR. Back in the day, I was a HUGE Dale Earnhardt fan. I loved watching that black number 3 Chevrolet plow through slower cars. The way Earnhardt drove, he basically gave everyone else on the track an ultimatum just by showing up: Get out of my way, or I will wreck you.

That kind of attitude doesn’t translate to the street very well. But let’s just take a moment and imagine that it did.

Go ahead, admit it. Wouldn’t we all feel better about driving if it was legal to lock bumpers on the highway and push the old Buick doing 68 in the passing lane past the old Mercury doing 67.5 in the slow lane?

Where I live, we basically have Autobahn rules for the parkways / interstates. No, not the drive as fast as you want part, but the keep right except to pass part. In fact, there are signs everywhere that say keep right except to pass. Right about every two miles, there’s a sign that says that.

So, do people keep right except to pass? Of course not!

Which brings me to a point. I was recently told that more than half of adults never read a book after they leave school. And then I was presented with this pile of “facts”:

• One-third of high school graduates never read another book for the rest of their lives.

• 42 percent of college graduates never read another book after college.

• 80 percent of U.S. families did not buy or read a book last year.

• 70 percent of U.S. adults have not been in a bookstore in the last five years.

• 57 percent of new books are not read to completion.

According to the folks at MentalFloss, the source of these statistics is a study that never really bothered to explain how they came up with these numbers. Nonetheless, they’ve been quoted for truth all over the internet, so they must be right, right?

Yesterday I logged onto Facebook and saw somebody’s status that said, “You don’t have the guts to post this, but imagine how much better the world would be if you did. Share if you’ve got the guts.” And beneath that was a picture of a little girl and a caption that said something like, “I support finding a cure for cancer.”

Seriously, what dark part of Facebook is so vile and disgusting that it takes guts to say you want cancer to go away. Is there some big group of people somewhere who will send you taunting messages if you’re against cancer? Are there cancer groupies who will feel discriminated against and threaten to sue?

And then there’s the politics. We have a guy running on his third marriage (with allegations that he asked his last wife for permission to be a polygamist) running on a position of strong moral values. We have another guy who implemented mandatory state-wide healthcare while governor criticizing the president’s national health-care plan which was based off his own state-wide health care plan. And then we have the guy who says what he believes even when it’s not popular, whose voting record going back thirty years is totally consistent with everything he says he believes in—and that guy’s called a crackpot!

The presidential elections aren’t a popularity contest, the whole future of our country is at stake—but hey, why apply logic to politics. Everybody likes drunk uncle Ted because he tells great stories and buys people stuff, why not run him for president? I mean, personally, I wouldn’t hire him to sweep the floors, much less run the country. But, hey, your mileage may vary.

Speaking of mileage,  I almost got run over by some old guy in an SUV who didn’t know what side of the road he was on. Which is minor compared to most days, honestly. A couple of weeks ago I nearly got hit head-on on a one-way street because some idiot in a Suburban a half-block up from me decided to pop a U-turn in the intersection and race back where he came from. Nevermind all those signs at every intersection that say WRONG WAY: DO NOT ENTER.

I can only imagine when this moron popped the U-turn, his thought process was something like this: “I should’ve turned a block back. I could make a right, turn up the next street, and get back to where I’m going, but SCREW IT. I’M IN A BIG SUV.”

This brings me back to why I liked Earnhardt so much. After putting up with traffic like that, there’s just something satisfying about watching a guy knock the hell out of all the cars around him like some kind of automotive incarnation of the Tasmanian Devil. Which, I guess, explains why the Tasmanian Devil played so often in GM’s marketing of Earnhardt and the Chevrolet brand.

Click here to view the video on YouTube.

Yes, I road rage. But it’s not all bad. I’ve learned to like driving with nobody else in the car. It’s almost like being in NASCAR, except without the fun of being able to plow through other cars.

“I will pour out my Spirit
on every kind of people:
Your sons will prophesy,
also your daughters.
Your old men will dream,
your young men will see visions.”

Joel 2:28 (The Message)

Lately, I’ve been having the strangest dreams. Some of them, I think, would make great stories. A couple of weeks ago I had a dream about a washed-up lawman whose demons cost him his marriage and his job. He has no reason to live until someone kidnaps his young daughter, and then those old lawman instincts kick up and he goes on a hunt for whoever was responsible—along the way, reclaiming his purpose and finding redemption.

Cinematic, eh?

Last night I had another of those odd, cinematic dreams. This time, I was aboard the luxury liner Titanic. I remember dropping aboard ship sometime after the collision and hearing the crew discuss the fact that it took only eight seconds to destroy the ship’s bow and doom the liner.

Imagine that. Eight seconds of ice scraping metal would seal the fate of more than fifteen hundred souls and relegated a machine that took years to build into the annals of history.

So I’m sitting next a window on one of the upper decks. Looking out, I can’t even see the ocean. The ship is so big and steady, the upper decks so high up, I remember smiling at crew as they scurried. Titanic, I reasoned, was strong and safe and no brush with ice would bring her down.

Then it happened. A crewman came rushing in to report that the bow was underwater. I looked out the window again and saw the ocean looming dangerously close, the ship’s lights reflecting on all the ripples in the dark water. I jumped from my chair filled with a sudden knowledge of what would happen based on all those movies and documentaries—a terrible, terrible end to drown in icy water trapped inside a coffin of steel. Or even worse, freezing to death in the dark.

I ran up a flight of stairs to the top-most deck and saw the chaos unfolding. Crowds of people fighting for seats on lifeboats, a panic-stricken crew trying to maintain order. I ran up the sloped decks toward the back of the ship and passed the band, playing their stringed instruments. I knew those musicians were trying to calm the crowd, to distract them from their impending doom.

It was right about that point in my dream when I heard God ask me, quite pointedly, “What are you going to do with your last minutes? Are you going to keep running around aimlessly? Or are you going to do something worthwhile?”

I found a doorway nearby and stepped inside, down some stairs, and wound up in a room that I’m fairly certain never existed on the actual Titanic. This room was elaborate, dark wood paneling on the walls, stained glass windows. At first I thought this was a smoking lounge, then a smoking room. But then I saw pews.

These pews were hand-carved with velvet pads of crimson. Some had been vandalized, with initials carved deep into them, marring them.

These pews were empty.

Desperate, dirty people filled the room, clinging to each other in these pews. By now, the ship was nearing its end, and the floors were sloped sharply. These people looked at me, wanting to know what was going on outside—some argued that the ship wouldn’t sink, no matter how bad it looked. Others begged for swift death.

I looked around this room and remember thinking that it was smaller than it should be. And then I raised my hands and began singing. Oh praise Him, Oh praise Him, for He is holy, He is holy.

As I sang, I remember thinking it was foolish. These people looked like immigrants, they probably couldn’t speak English, had no idea what I was doing. But slowly, those people started singing too. Some knelt to make their peace with God.

I switched lyrics. Hallelujah, hallelujah, He is holy, He is holy.

Even in a dream set a century ago, my mind recalled the present day context of worship. And as I continued singing my modern song in this dream, I remember thinking that no matter what horrible things happen, it doesn’t change who Jesus is.

I woke up watching a woman wrapped in a hooded wool coat hold her children tight, and I woke up with one question that has hounded me all day. What would I sing if I were trapped on the Titanic? What would I do if I knew life was about to end?

To be honest, I know it wouldn’t go anything near like that dream.

Without further delay, here is the interview you’ve all been waiting for.

Could you tell us about yourself and your writing?

Well, I’ve lived from the midwest to the far south and now I reside in Texas for the moment. I work fulltime during the week and write whenever I can get the chance. I’ve loved writing for as far back as I can remember. I love the feeling of immersing myself in creating a word, a conflict and seeing the characters resolve their issues.

I see on your Amazon page that you write about werewolves and vampires and magic worlds. Is there one world in which you write all your stories or does each story have its own unique universe?

Each of my series has their own world created. This allows for a greater ability to evolve it in its own way and path. Some things are taken from the world I see around me, but much of it is from my imagination.

How did you become interested in the paranormal?

Ever since I was a kid I found that the things that could not be explained could be the most fascinating. I’d listened to friends families talk about occurencs that happened to them and things they could not put a real world answer on. Besides, it’s much more interesting to believe there is more out there than we can see with the naked eye.

What interactions have you had with your readers?

I try to talk to any reader that approaches me. From Facebook to twitter to my blog. I am always open to talking with those who have read my work. It is there for them and because of them.

Is there any theme in your writing you keep coming back to?

There is quite a bit of good vs evil that is done. Though it varies from storyline to storyline, I think it is something that most people can relate to.

Is there a message you want the world to hear through your writing?

Through many of my books it is mostly going to be that through perserverance, one can find a way to get through anything, but that you must not fear relying on others. Now, there is a new book coming out soon that addresses a much larger issue of the inbalance mankind is causing to Earth. It will be covered in my Guardians’ of Nature series that will be released next month.

Are you a pantser or a plotter (outliner)?

I started out as a pantser, but have since started to incorporate both ways of writing. I will do very rough outlines/workups of what the novel will cover, but it is only a guideline. The story itself, still unfolds as I write.

If you could make a movie based on your writing, would you, or do you prefer to tell your stories through the written word? (If you would make a movie, who would you cast and would you want to direct?)

Most of my novels are best as novels. Something would definitely get lost if they tried to adapt it to film. With that said, my horror novel that I’m going to be releasing would be fantastic as a movie. It is one of those books that while I’m writing it I can see it unfold as a movie in my head. Now most of my books I do that anyway, but this one was beyond vivid. As for who would play in it, that might be a bit more tricky. I know for the male lead, I could see Karl Urban perfectly as Andrew.

What lessons have you learned from self-publishing?

That the work never stops. An author has to be very vigilant and disciplined if they are going the indie route. From keeping their own deadlines, to finding the right editor, to making sure that the cover artist knows what they are looking for. Even the marketing aspect is a never ending job. But in the end, it is worth every bit of time and energy invested, because the end result is the happiness and wonder our readers can find in the stories we create for them.

Who / what are your creative influences?

Anything and everything for me. I tend to look at everything and try and find ways to describe it in my head. I listen to people and watch the interactions they have. If you love to write you can find that inspiration to set off the creative juices in just about anything you see.

 

You can find out more about R. G. Porter by visiting her website and her blog.

Contrary to the hype that’s been swirling around the media, the Kindle Fire is no real competition to the iPad, except in the sense that many people (including myself) lump all tablets into one big category the same way some people (not me) lump all laptops into one category. If you accept the premise that the iPad 2 is the MacBook Pro of tablet computing, then the Kindle Fire is the tablet equivalent of a netbook–very good at doing what it was designed to do, but designed to do only the things that a majority of people do the most and not to meet the demands of power users.

To put it another way, the iPad 2 is like a powerful and complex DSLR camera compared to the Kindle Fire as a point-and-shoot. For most people, I’d imagine, the Kindle Fire is more than enough to get the job done.

Holding the Kindle Fire, one is struck first by the heft of the unit, then by the polish. There are no obvious seems or joints, no visible screws, nothing to indicate that this is a machine. In fact, once the Kindle Fire is brought out of sleep mode, there’s nothing to indicate proper orientation of the device, either. At least not from the front. Flip it around any which way, and the screen snaps to alignment. The home button is built into the software, unlike Apple’s iDevices, so technically there is no right or wrong way to hold the Kindle Fire.

The back and most of the side is comprised of a rubberized material that keeps fingers glued to the device. The Kindle brand is engraved into this rubber material and the appropriate markings are printed in glossy black beneath this engraving. It is obvious that the Kindle design team took lessons from the school of Steve Jobs, as the entire tablet is beautiful and seamlessly built.

Speaking of Jobs, the Kindle Fire’s screen is glossy and reminds me very much of my MacBook Pro, both in the quality of the image as well as that shiny sheet of glass over the LCD. And, just like the MacBook Pro, I find the screen almost too bright at its dimmest setting. There is a light sensor and the option to let the Kindle Fire auto-adjust brightess, but I have that turned off, and keep the brightness turned all the way down. This option might help, however, if you plan to use your Kindle Fire outdoors.

Compared to an iPod or iPad, the Kindle Fire is thick as well. This, I believe, is to the Fire’s benefit. It feels solid; it feels good in the hand.

Turn on the Kindle Fire, and one is greeted first by a shimmering Kindle Fire logo as the device boots up, then a screensaver with a swipe-to-awaken strip in the middle of the image. Swipe it, and one is greeted by the Kindle Fire bookcase, where icons sit and the device history is displayed on the top shelf. If you already own a Kindle, your book purchases information will be downloaded from the cloud and immediately available to scroll through. To read a book, however, the device must first download it.

If you’ve ever used a Kindle app for your computer, phone, or other tablet device, then you already know what the reading experience is like on the Kindle. The only new twist is the ability to change the font used altogether, in addition to changing font size and a choice of font and background colors. It should be noted, however, that most of the content for Kindle is designed with the black text / white background setting in mind–even the welcome letter from Amazon looks a little strange if you stray from this default.

Any music you have stored in your Amazon Cloud drive is available to play as well, though the built-in speakers have a distinctly muffled sound compared to typical laptop speakers. With a pair of decent headphones, the Kindle Fire sounds as good as an iPod (and, IMO, better than some older iPods), with no noticeable hiss or noise floor. There are a number of preset EQs to chose from in order to taller the sound to your liking.

The Kindle Fire’s video tab will take you straight to Amazon’s video marketplace, where you can buy movies and TV shows or rent them. In addition, if you are a Prime customer, you can instant stream many movies and TV shows without any additional cost. The Prime streaming function produces a very clean image that makes great use of the Fire’s screen. Even on my slow (768k down) DSL connection, video watched through the Prime service was crisp and clear and needed very little buffering.

I can’t say the same for the Netflix app for Kindle Fire. While the Netflix for Fire app is beautiful and easy to navigate, the picture quality is disappointing on my connection. It reminded me of being a student at a rural college in 1999, trying to watch video on the internet through Real Player. The picture was very distorted, to the point the actors’ faces were mere blurs and the audio seemed to go off sync with the video. I’m sure a slightly faster connection would remedy this, as many have reported crystal clear video with Netflix on the Fire, but this strikes me as odd since I have perfect image and sound quality on my TV with Netflix streaming through my PlayStation 3.

As for apps, the Amazon app store is as easy to navigate from within the Kindle Fire as the iTunes store is from within an iDevice. Pick what you want and it installs automatically. There’s even a handy one-click purchase button. The only downside, in my opinion, is the volume of emails you will receive from Amazon confirming and thanking you for your app store purchases.

Speaking of apps, Netflix does not come pre-installed on the Fire. Nor does Hulu Plus. The apps that do come pre-installed are the Amazon store app, an email app, a help and support app, and an email app. The email app is wonderful in that you can connect pretty much any major online email service to one mailbox. I have two gmail accounts, a Yahoo! account, and a Hotmail account all connected through my Fire. I can’t seem to figure out a way to automatically check all those boxes without going through my unified inbox (one screen where all your inbox accounts are lumped together). I use different email accounts for different purposes, and it’s helpful for me to see which box my new mail is in. However, this is a small nitpick. Otherwise, the Kindle Fire mail app is wonderful and I”m thrilled with it.

The Facebook app, on the other hand, is nothing but a shortcut to Facebook’s mobile website. Facebook’s mobile website, thankfully, is very well designed and functions well on the Fire, but still, I think most users are expecting a dedicated app. In addition, there is no Twitter app, but Twitter’s mobile website works very well within Fire’s web browser.

The web browser itself will be very familiar to anyone who has ever used Chrome. There are tabs at the top and one bar for search or entering addresses. The navigation and menu options are housed in the grey bar at the bottom of the screen where the Fire’s home button resides. Pages load smoothly and look good, and if you turn the default font size up to large, there’s very little zooming required to read most web pages.

Because there’s only 6.5 GB of internal storage (1.5 GB is used for the operating system), managing content on the device will be a challenge for some users. Amazon made it easy to get rid of stuff you don’t want by simply holding your finger on its icon and then selecting the option from a pop-up menu to remove from device. The icon never goes away, however, reminding you that this content is still in the cloud, ready to download again whenever you want.

In all honesty, another 8 GB wouldn’t have killed them, especially since there’s no SD card slot.

This limited storage, while well documented, is apparently an issue for many users. The Kindle Fire is likely not a device you’ll load up with movies and music and take on vacation. You’ll be able to get some movies onto the device to watch on, say, an airplane, or while riding shotgun in the car, but mostly this is a device you’ll use at the hotel to check email and surf the web, or a device you’ll take to Starbucks or McDonalds or Panara Bread to use in-store wifi. I have the sense that most Kindle Fires will find a place on the coffee table in their users’ homes, ready to grab for a quick web browsing session or to look up prices on some need-it-now items and little more.

Is the Kindle Fire a serious contender in the tablet arena? I’m not sure. But Amazon has scored a home run in designing a device that’s drop dead simple to use and functions just as it’s suppose to. In fact, just like the more traditional kindles, the Fire has a way of disappearing in your hands and you don’t even think about it.

The bad? Lay the Kindle Fire flat on a table and overhead lights create enormous glare. Stand it up on a table with the power switch on the bottom, and you’ll accidentally initiate the shutdown sequence (a touch-screen indicator does ask if you really want to shut down in most cases, however). But the worst that I can say about the Fire, aside from a few glitches with the touch screen not registering the touch I wanted, is that my dog is insanely jealous of the device.

That pretty much covers my experience with the Fire.

I am a creator by nature. My main sources of income are through graphic design, video editing, and for me, no tablet will replace my trusty MacBook Pro. But the Kindle Fire is a nice supplement, an easy to grab device for checking mail and surfing the web. I suspect I’ll find some magazines to read on it, try out some graphic novels, and watch a a lot of blurry Netflix videos. And that’s all I really wanted it for.

Could you tell us about yourself and your writing?

I am a single mom and love it! I love animals and traveling. I write Romance, I believe fantasy is way better than the real thing! At least in my experience!

I see on your Amazon page that you’ve written several historical / western romances as well as a young adult romance. What prompted you to write the YA novel?

Return to Love is one of my favorite books. I thought up Joanie when I was in middle school it just took a long time to write her down. She was everything I was not, tough, brave, confident.

How did you become interested in the western / late 1800s time frame?

Who doesn’t like Cowboys? Again characters pop into my head and I write about them in whatever setting. I’m currently working on a piece from 1776 a great year!

What interactions have you had with your readers?

I don’t do many book signings, but my best experience is when a fan walked up to my table and said “I read your book and I loved it.” Reviews are wonderful but hearing it in person is phenomenal!

Is there any theme in your writing you keep coming back to?

Lol! I have a lot of cross dressing in my books. My characters are free spirits and they do what they wanna do.

Is there a message you want the world to hear through your writing?

YES! Believe in yourself and don’t take any crap off of anyone!

Are you a pantser or a plotter?

Pantser ( i had to look it up!) I start with a character (a voice or scene in my head) and I build a world around it. When I start a book I have no idea what will happen or how it will end I just write. I cried for three days when I wrote “Chase the Moon” at an unexpected turn of events. It made my readers cry as well. I’m sorry!

If you could make a movie based on your writing, would you, or do you prefer to tell your stories through the written word?

Ahh the movie question! I have had several fans tell me they would like to see Run into the Wind as a movie. Well my book cover models are very much alive and well; they would do nicely in the movie roles! (Jeandre Lindque and Julian Fantechi). Peter Jackson for the director, I’m sure he could capture my vision.

Peter, Call me!

What lessons have you learned from self-publishing?

Sooooooooo much! I am still learning more and more everyday. I love having free reign over my very small kingdom. I once read the requirements for a Romance publisher & they spelled out when the characters had to have sex. (Chapter four) and so on. I mean if Sabrina wasn’t in the mood someone could get shot!

Who / what are your creative influences?

My books aren’t typical romances. I think I wrote them because of that. I try to instill reality and humor. I used to read romances all the time growing up and I would hate when the guy would fool around or the heroine would do something stupid. I’m a sucker for happy endings.

Thanks, Lynn, for such a great interview!

You can find out more about Lynn at her website: www.lynnhubbard.com, her Amazon author page, and at her blog: http://authorlynnhubbard.blogspot.com/

And if you really want to see one of her bodice-ripper covers, here ya go (click to buy the book):