“No, way,” I gasped.
My Golden Heart entry is now titled Evil’s Witness and will release on June 18, 2010 also through The Wild Rose Press. For more information on either book, please visit my website http://www.autumjordon.com/
Ten writers sharing thoughts, ideas, frustrations, and jubilations in a quest to fulfill dreams.

To start with, here are a couple U.S. Indian Head cents minted in 1897 and 1883 respectively. Emma’s Outlaw is set in 1879 Wyoming Territory so these pennies weren’t even around when Emma was kidnapped. Since they were minted from 1859 through 1909 though, Emma and Dan would have had access to these coins. Penny candy, anyone?
Another item I keep nearby is this 1886 Morgan dollar. However, I don’t touch the face of this coin. Made of 80% silver, any natural oils on my hands will leave fingerprints that turn black over the years. I handle it by the rim when I want to hold it for inspiration. U.S. Morgan dollars were struck from 1878 through 1904 and then in 1921. Weighing 24gms, this hefty silver dollar is supposedly the kind Buffalo Bill shot a hole clean through after a toss up. Other famous people who were known to carry the silver dollars were Billy the Kid, Jesse James and even Geronimo. People of the Old West preferred the silver coins to paper money which made the Morgans the main form of currency in the latter part of the 19th century, second only to gold. Somewhere in my research I’d even read where old timers used to keep a silver dollar in their canteen to ensure water purity. 

Finding the right person is not an easy job, and I feel so lucky that Michelle once offered to take a look at a manuscript. She is my biggest critic and my biggest fan, and we trust each other implicitly. That’s a trust that has been built and nurtured for six years now. On my bookshelf, you’ll see a line of pink spines of my Romance hardcovers. You’ll also see a very proud row of purple ones for Michelle’s Historicals.
As you might have guessed reading the last few posts here on The Prairies, a bunch of us have been involved in Book-in-a-Week. This is an annual event our writing group, Saskatchewan Romance Writers, take on to jump start the new year and focus our attention on writing that, hopefully, will continue on during the next 11 months. We set goals and report in daily – urging each other to meet those goals or to stretch even further. But what about after the event? What do we take away from a week of scribbling like mad women? Do we even give it any thought?
Do most writers think of themselves as right-brained people? I’m a writer and I place myself firmly in the right brain camp. Or I did, until I took a quiz (alright, four quizzes – cue eye roll) on the Internet. I answered a series of multiple-choice questions and results were tabulated by – frankly, I don’t know by who - but they were supplied and they revealed that while I may be slightly more right-brained inclined, I also rely almost as equally on my left brain.
Old chipped vases, bronze things green and unidentifiable with age, sat on ledges down dim corridors. Innumerable bits of weathered metalwork escorted me where I hazarded a lord would keep his library, and I could have snatched any number and been off without raising an alarm.
Farther on ornaments bore ancient bits of gem and precious stone, some as large as sovereigns, and I hesitated. I could take three, five, a dozen perhaps, and the gems alone would fetch enough to bribe a Guardsman, barter passage with the Wayfarer’s Guard. It was the safer bet. Any thief would do as much -- but one hadn't.
With arms clasped behind his back, Durance looked me over, twisting a heavy gold ring on one finger. I stood stiff under his scrutiny, returning the same. Little older than Shaw, privilege left Durance slim and soft of line, swaddled in fine velvet. But they shared one thing in common, master and servant—neither gaze missed aught of note. Not my worn boots, not the patch of flesh glaring beneath my rent tunic, torn over an inch below the collar bone.
I’m sitting down to write this blog, minutes after getting confirmation that the first print copies of my first book are on their way to me. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, so it’s a fitting time to reflect on the journey from inspiration to publication. It hasn’t been dull. 
This Saturday, Jan. 16th, help us welcome Jennie Marsland to The Prairies. You're definitely going to want to stop by - the road to publication has been a rough and tumble one and Jennie shares it with us on Saturday. Her determination and persistance has paid off and Jennie's book, McShannon's Chance, is now available. 
Over a year ago, I had an idea. That idea consumed my thoughts night and day, snowballing in my mind into people; so real to me they felt like flesh and blood. Their adventure played in my head like a movie reel on repeat; and every time it replayed it got more intricate and exciting. That was when I got antsy. I had to get this story out of my head, somehow. So I wrote.
Once the first draft was done, I revised it numerous times until I decided it was finished. I knew it still had grammatical problems that I could work on later, but I wanted someone who knew what they were doing to give me feedback on the writing and the story. So I decided to take the opportunity to utilize a manuscript evaluation service.
I had no idea what I was in for. Using this service was a real eye-opener, or perhaps more accurately, a total slap in the face. Don’t get me wrong, I realize being a writer is not for the faint-at-heart; it is notoriously known as a cut-throat, exclusionary business. But my knowledge of this did not prepare me for the feedback I got from the evaluation.
I got the notice in the mail that I had a parcel waiting at the post office. I had been waiting for the evaluation for over three months, so I was fairly certain my manuscript had been returned to me. I brought it home, got into my pajamas, poured myself a cold one and then I tore into it. Or should I say - it tore into me.
In my (paid) line of work, I use a strengths-based approach. I rarely word things in the negative. For example, I might hear a client say “I want my child to stop being so stubborn,” and I would rephrase it to “You want your child to be more cooperative”. The second version is much more palatable to the child, and is more likely to incite cooperation rather than defensiveness. Clearly, in the world of manuscript evaluation there is no such concern about using a strengths-based approach. When I saw the word “ludicrous” on that page, I knew that the feedback was going to be brutally honest.
I pride myself on a fairly solid ego-strength, but reading through my evaluation definitely put that strength to the test. Getting criticism about my writing made me feel kind of like someone telling me my newborn baby was hideously ugly. I had just gone through nine months of creating it, breathing life into it and giving up my personal life for it; just to be told it was so far from perfect it could probably be diagnosed with Pervasive Ludicrous Disorder.
I was righteously indignant and mortified to the marrow of my existence. I searched the pages for the identity of my evaluator so that I could write them an equally scathing feedback. (Of course it’s anonymous – obviously for good reason). I threw the paper copy of my novel into the recycling bin, relishing in the palpable loud thud. I cursed at it, and told it how bad of a baby it was. Then I opened my laptop and I used the cut feature like I was wielding a machete.
That night, my first novel, my pride and joy, went from a 100,000 word document down to a mere 32,000 words. It was admittedly “flabby” before, but it certainly wasn’t anymore, rendered down to the bare bones. Then I took the little skeleton that had once been a novel and completely re-wrote it, my anger causing me to write with a newfound maniacal fervor. I have no doubt it is a better product now than it was before the evaluation. I took my ugly baby duckling, cut it to shreds, and turned it into a beautiful swan; something (I hope) no longer hurts the eyes, or insults the mind.
I’m still righteously indignant, and if my evaluator is out there and reading this, I dare you - stand up and identify yourself! But in reality, the truth hurts. I’m happy I went through the process for a number of reasons: It prepared me for the harsh realities of the publishing industry, it helped open my eye to my blind spots, and it forced me to exercise my resilience muscles. In the long run, it was well worth every penny - even if I did have to go through a hysterical meltdown, curse the heavens and cry myself to sleep for a few nights!