Kick to the Face

Hey all, I hope you had a good Thanksgiving, ours was a little squeaky. Meaning that my little sister found a mouse in her room and was reasonably freaked out. We haven't found anymore mice, but it's a little worrisome. How did it get into our house? When the people came to deliver our furnace? In the box of homegrown apples we go?
No idea.
Otherwise Thanksgiving was okay. I love stuffing. Not even homemade. It's the cheap store-bought stuff, and it is delicious.
But not everything is hunky-dory.
I've been trying to avoid social media for the past three days. Not because I hate it, but because I didn't want to continue my trend of becoming increasingly grouchy as I looked at it. I managed to keep up a three day streak until I finally decided to look.
First thing. I only had one email.
One.
I know we shouldn't judge ourselves on how many emails we get, but that's still a little condemning. Ah, my trend as a nothing loser continues apparently.
What's more the email was like a kick to the face. Someone else getting what I wanted. I literally burst into tears. Funny how I haven't ever really done that before, bursting into tears I mean. Usually I have to want to cry and then they come out.
Not this time.
One email.
One harsh kick to the face.
The tears came out, nice and hard.
When will it finally be my turn? I have to keep wondering this. So many other people are getting breaks, but I'm still trudging through miles of thigh-deep mud. AAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
That's my vocalization for this moment.
Part of me wonders if it's even worth it anymore. Writing. So far it's only made me $75.08 (rough estimate) and left me dragging. Seriously. I sit in front of my computer and that snaky little voice in the back of my head whispers "why bother? No one will care!"
I wonder if I should listen to it.
When my computer finally dies I think that'll be it. My writing career over. No one cares anyway. If I suddenly quit it wouldn't be the end of the world for anyone.
I'll find a new hobby in fashion design maybe. I did learn how to turn boot cut jeans into skinny and to this point I have broken two sewing machine needles while doing so. I didn't manage to do it perfectly though. One pair flopped and so I mutilated it with a pair of scissors. All that time jabbing myself with pins wasted.
i.e. I feel like a failure. I did what I thought I loved and it flopped. Scissors can't take that sting away.
Funny how one email can crush the resolve I thought I had. When will I stop getting kicked in the face? Time and time again people who don't deserve it get what I have spent years longing for. I do a lot of work, I forgo sleep, social outings, and sometimes my sanity and nothing happens.
Ever feel like this? Like the heavens have put you on hold as you scream for help?
Yep.
That's me.
Kicked in the face.

Up and Not so At 'Em

I've been having a hard time keeping my head above the surface lately. I'm sure we've all had days like this. I've got good news though.
First and foremost, I couldn't sleep two nights ago so I got up and cleaned my closet. How is this good news? Well it's been a mess for...I'd say two years. Everything was packed in there with the shove it hard and then run concept. Well it's clean now. Voila. How clean? Well I didn't have extra shelves before. Everything was packed in tight. Now I have enough shelf space to empty out a bookshelf that I don't want in my room anymore.
Who knew a clean closet could make you happy?
I didn't even run into any spiders and you'd think that a closet that messy would be their dream home. No spiders, not even any webs. I've found more in my room. (Yuck!)
Second bit of good news. I may get a job. It's a writing job so I wouldn't have to leave my comfort zone. I have power with words. On days when I'm really into it I have the power to make my readers laugh, cry, feel angry, or find joy. So I figure why bother leaving my passion?
I'm not saying much about it now because I don't want to jinx myself. I don't know if I'm going to get hired and I'm not sure if I should be hopeful or dreading because in this economy...just kidding. When conversations start like that I generally roll my eyes and walk away.
I know it's time for me to get a job, and hopefully I won't have to go kicking and screaming as I was planning to before. This option kind of slapped me in the face and said "hello? Right here!"
Anyway, not really looking forward to Thanksgiving. Time of pleasure and joy right? Haha. Not really. It's been hard because of the sudden lack of Jason. Plus no one in my immediate family seems able to cook potatoes unless they're baked potatoes. On that note no one in my family seems to like potatoes that much either, even though we're 50% Idahoan on my mother's side.
Mashed potatoes are the main center piece to Thanksgiving right? Yuck. They're always, ALWAYS burnt. We sometimes joke that our dinner bell is a fire alarm because of the burnt potatoes.
Plus I'm getting tired of the over advertised Holidays. I was at a store with my dad and heard a commercial for fresh flowers. Get them fresh for Thanksgiving. It was about a week before the holiday. I rolled my eyes thinking that in a week your fresh flowers would be wilting a little. Ooh so fresh.
As for my last post. I'm better right now. It seems to be this roller coaster where I'm fine in the mornings but as the days wear on towards evening everything builds up leaving me with the sincere desire to scream. Last night I managed to fight it by writing. One of my characters (you don't know him yet) was going through the same thing I was. Fighting to stay above. I almost cried with him because I was able to express myself on a page.
See? That's what I love doing. Writing is something I don't ever want to quit. Twisted helped me survive losing a sister and growing up. I was able to channel frustrations into words. That book is probably the only reason I'm still here writing this right now and not in some loony bin. Angry? Frustrated? Sorry characters, it's being taken out on you. ;)
In other words, right now I'm treading water. The storm will start up again, a guarantee. Why am I so unable to handle what never bothered me before?

The Story of My Bad, Evil, Long, LONG, Week

You ever had a day where you regret getting out of bed? I had a week of that. Every day I wished I hadn't bothered to get up. Long, dull days full of frustrating events and never ending humdrums.
Yada, yada.
Yeah. I'm not the brightest star in the sky right now. In fact I may even be a black hole. But you know three red heads in a room makes a black hole so right now I'm 1/3 of black hole.
At least next week is Thanksgiving break. I'm so tired of school. Of worry about assignments and getting everything done (blah blah blah) that I don't even care about the Holiday. Plus I feel particularly ugly because last week in a class I sat by a boy as I was walking out I saw him with two other girls in the class who were prime specimens of the females of this species.
I feel rather inadequate right now and I've even found myself mentally apologizing to people for how ugly I am.
Yep. Bad week. What's causing this? No idea. I really don't. It must be November. Two years ago I went through a really dark time, it's what left me with the understanding of how it feels to walk in darkened paths. It's why I can really hike up the emotions when writing from the Secret Keeper's POV (haha, knew it was coming ;D)
Plus a friend who I didn't think cared about the whole exercise stuff started losing weight and got the start of a six pack and I feel like a bus next to a slim sports car. It feels like part of my comfort has been torn away because my friend started caring about this.
All because of her dork boyfriend who called her fat.
I want to punch him. Don't doubt the power of this girl. She can ride a freaking 1,000 pound animal. Okay Gypsy is probably only 900 pounds, but that's still a lot. By the way she dropped his sorry butt. Nobody is allowed to insult her the way he did. I'd take my violin (Squishy!) and beam him up top the head.
Yeah anyway. My excitement levels are very low. It would probably take a bomb to get me to even blink and then I'd probably be like "yeah, whatever."
I regret climbing out of bed. Not nesscarily going to institute this morning at 8 when I would have much rather of been sleeping. I gave death glares over at that boy. Great way to make friends, I know, but the claws are returning. My inner she-devil is starting to crawl back up. I want to scream, really, really loudly.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could all have instant boyfriends who aren't dwebs? I used to not care, now I'm seeing all these hot guys with gorgeous girls and I want to curl up under a rock and die in my ugliness. I have never been on a date. The only boys who showed interest in me was a kid in kindergarten and that was because we shared the same letter at the end of our names. Then Steve last year.
Yep. The ponderings of a grouchy girl. Stick around it will probably get interesting.
I dread next week. What woes will come with the lightening of a new dawn?

The Birth of the Blackheart

Yep, typical teenager angst is the current story of my life right now. I'm still super tired. It feels like I got zero hours of sleep last night and I dreamt about a furnace bursting into flames and burning my aunt and uncle's house to the ground.
Fascinating, except I was still inside trying to rescue a few books.
Yeah, even in my dreams I'm lacking in sanity. :)
It's also that I don't know what to do about college. Still have no money, still do NOT want to get a job, but it's look inevitable. I also learned a heck of a lot of stuff in financial lit about money risks and taxes so my current engery and will level is topping at about -1.
But on the bright side I found a new story to write. Here's a little warning for all you authors planning to publish your book. As you format it, and proof read it, you will literally run yourself into exhaustion with it. I burnt myself into a crisp (figuratively) and I spent half of November struggling to get past chapter 5 on a bunch of books.
But I've found a new one.
Mwahaha. It's called Blackheart (yes I did come up with a title for it right away. Twisted didn't have one for...maybe two weeks. I called it the 'Secret Keeper story' which it practically is, but anyway...) and it's about a girl who gets stranded on a mountain with the king's assassin, the Blackheart.
I'm still trying to develop the story, but I do know that there's going to be a scene with tar and feathering. Hehe. Just expanding my pallete for character torture. The Secret Keeper is probably relieved that he doesn't have to deal with this new one.
Sorry Blackheart.
It's been so relieving to have something to write and to be excited about it. The past four stories that I tried to start only held my interest for the first three chapters before I started to dread writing. That is not good. As Bob Ross states "it (painting) should make you happy. If it's not making you happy then you're doing something wrong."
Or something like that.
Yes, I love Bob Ross. The cover for Twisted would have flopped without him. Sad thing that he's been dead for as long as I've been alive. :(
So I found something that made me happy. I came up with the idea after seeing Thor, A Darkened World. No, I'm not a big Marvel fan, but I wanted to see it and yes I would recommend it. Things were blowing up every five minutes. Awesome.
On that same day it was discovered that our furnace decided that breaking would be a really good idea. Did you know it costs about $2,000 to replace a furnace? I didn't and it freaked me out. My family's not rich, so when I learned that the dumb furnace was going to cost us that much I wanted to go downstairs and kick the stupid thing. I resisted and went outside with my iPod music turned up really, really loud.
I was pacing and thinking about how much I hated everything, quality meditation, I'll tell you. From there my thoughts went to Lord of the Rings (surprise) and I was thinking about how much I respected Théoden, king of Rohan. I realized that I was longing to trust the officials, trust and be willing to go to war for them. From that I went to the Witch King wondering if he'd make a good king. I figured probably. Wraiths are self-centered, but they're not going (depending on the wraith some can be rather stupid and flighty) to do something destructive that would end their rule, unless they wanted it to.
Long story short this is how I came up with the idea for Blackheart. The girl, Abigail Ellison is stranded away from her home with the Blackheart, the king of Hearst's brunt fist. Somehow or another she manages to weasel her way into his black heart and becomes the father figure she never had.
How this happens? No idea. But it was amazing the way Abby walked onto the page. It was the same way Aster did. The words popped from my fingers with a distinct voice that clearly said here I am! I didn't have to guess her name, or the names of those around her. That's what drove me crazy about the other books. No voice! Abby has a distinct voice all her own.
No, I'm not quitting on Twisted, I just need a break or I'm going to scream. I've written so many drafts and edited so much of that series that one more try is going to make my head explode and you know how difficult it can be to clean brains from your keyboard. ;)

Here's what gave my new book its name. I found the sheet music for this song earlier that day. It seems like it was meant to happen. Blackheart by Two Steps from Hell. Not so fond of the group name, but love their music.
Can I play this song on the violin? Yes (hesitant answer) but it needs work.

See my Facebook page for Twisted my published book!
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Twisted/168658493335482?skip_nax_wizard=true
Like, share and enjoy!

Here's where you can buy a physical copy of Twisted
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-1-Tayla-Durham/dp/1493540467/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1384965585&sr=1-1&keywords=twisted+Tayla+durham

Trying to Thrive

I'm sorry that I haven't posted much lately. I've been busy with school, and procrastinating ;)
This isn't going to be a very long post because I've been up since 2 in the morning and naturally I'm running on borrowed time before I crash, which I'm about to. No chocolate can help this lack of energy.
I've been having a bit of "holy cow! is this happening to me?" kind of experiences all over the place. Like some people in my neighborhood who somehow learned about my book and are going to buy it (whoa!) and then yesterday I got to enlighten a friend on the world of the dead. She didn't understand about the ringwraiths, how they existed.
If you've been following my blog for a while, you'll know. They're not alive. They walk in death. So evil that their souls departed and their physical forms turned to shadow.
Yep. I'm too tired to go into much detail about this.
Thank you to all who have bought my book. Please tell me what you thought about it! I love getting comments.
Now if you'll pardon me, I'm going to go take a nap until five pm.

Here Again

Thank you to all who read my first chapter preview! I was surprised at how many views it got. It made me happy. :)
Today I don't think that I can count as much more than a zombie. I am so tired. The time change has been brutal. We went an hour back and usually that means an extra hour of sleep, but to me it's hardly worth it because at about six every day I start losing the will to move. Yep. I call it zombie mode. Why not wraith mode? Well, because wraiths have the ability to think, the garden variety of zombies do not.
I also was really brave and snipped my bangs off. They used to be longer than my face. Now I have Taylor Swift style bangs. I didn't even realize I did until I looked at myself and thought that my hairstyle looked familiar. I was even wearing a Taylor Swift shirt. Jeez. I am observant, but only when I want to be.
But hey, I have a victory claim. I have almost 30,000 words for NaNoWriMo. Do they count? Well, I say so, but others may say no. I've started three books since the beginning of this month. I went back to the original one, the third book of Twisted, I get to about chapter four or five and start dragging. I'm determined to get past that now.
I know what you're saying why aren't you writing the second book? If you're not thinking that then I really DON'T know what you're saying. Anyway, why not? I've already written it twice this year. Three times is a bit extreme. I don't plan on having it out until next year. I'm still trying to figure out how to weave the plot. Don't worry, I know what happens. It's just how it happens is what's slowing me down.
What is also slowing me down is that my computer is dying. The PCU (is that what that big honking "brain" of the computer is called?) the screen is fine. It's actually supposed to be a Windows 2007,but the important part is currently fading. It started with an odd buzzing from the fans, or just the device all together, and then the programs started going nuts. My computer is no longer capable of numbering things correctly. I thinks that 1 should come after 43, which is obviously WRONG.
I'm terrified that I'm going to turn it on and instead of coming on it's going to blow up instead. According to my parents we've had the computer for as long as we've lived in our house. That's about 13 years. It's refurbished, and according to a cute little sticker was once a Windows Millennia and we all know how vastly popular that was. It's currently running Windows 98, and in computer terms, it's a great, great, great grandparent to Windows 8.
Over all? I'm worried that it's going to die. I don't want the latest and greatest (though something that could run YouTube would be great ;D) I'm borrowing my dad's old laptop to write this and it's on my desk and I am not tall enough (no, before you ask I'm not tall! I'm a shortie) to reach it in without sitting on a pillow.
In other words my arms are aching.
So there goes my current moment. I'm a zombie, my arms hurt, but hey my book is selling better than I thought it would. I've nearly made $100 in a week. So thank you all to bought my book.
Here's where you can buy a copy
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Volume-1-Tayla-Durham/dp/1493540467/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1381855475&sr=1-1
Here's my Facebook page for my book,
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Twisted/168658493335482

Twisted Preview

As promised here is the first chapter in my book. Feel free to leave comments on what you thought. I'll try to reply as soon as I can!
Enjoy. This chapter was 2 and a half years in the making. ;)

1

How a No Good, Very Bad, Terrible Thief Became Very Good, Really Sweet, and Overwhelmingly Willing To Help the King

 

 

 

 

Aster the Terrible

Oh what a world!

          I was at the height of my reign of plunder. Everyone who said my name spoke it with fear or with fury. I was a thief. A pirate on dry land. Even the pirates who sail the Seas of Mondorlan couldn’t compare to my horrible plunders.

          I was a silent whisper slinking through the Four Kingdoms stealing everything I could lay a finger on. Kings, queens, merchants all tried to catch me and failed. I was surely the man who could not be caught. I avoided them for so long I should have known my luck would eventually wear off.

Aster the Terrible, my name, plagued the noblemen of the Four Kingdoms well into the depths of the night. They all knew what I could do and they all hated me for it because they knew how impossible I was to catch.

           The underground prison is dark, dank, and smells faintly of rotting feet. The only light comes from the torches in brackets every ten feet down the cellblock. The flickering light casts odd, dim shadows on everything and can seriously mess with a man’s eyes if he let them. The walls are made of heavy gray stones carefully piled on each other and cemented together—nothing can be wedged between the stones, nothing can dig around them.

The doors on the cells are barely wide enough for a regular man. They’re made of iron bars. No amount of rust, or scraping, or kicking, can break them. The lock on the door is a padlock, roughly the size of my fist and made for a special key and that key alone. Nothing can pick it. Just as well. There’s nothing in the cell beyond me, bad memories, and a moldy pile of straw that has been my sorry excuse of a bed for the past nine months and fourteen days.

          It drives me crazy to think about the freedom I once had. It has died. The pompous and snotty Prince Maffio stole it the day he stuck the key into the lock on my shackles. He ended my reign of plunder, and won our two-year feud.

          That day when I was caught is listed among the most horrible moments of my life. It’s up there (or maybe I should down there, since it wasn’t very uplifting) with the two times that I bumped into the Secret Keeper. I got away from the Secret Keeper. I wasn’t so lucky in getting away from Maffio and the Nansterdome version of ‘justice.’

The memories of that day burn with a kind of scorn that time won’t soothe. Nor will my mind let them be; reviewing them day in and day out trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. It’s simple really. My best friend sailed me down the river for a sack of gold. Why my mind can’t leave that fact be, I don’t know. I’ve gone over that sickening day in June hundreds of times. I can’t seem to change it, or accept that it happened, despite the fact that I’ve been rotting in prison since.

          I suppose I shouldn’t really be surprised. Jackalton Mahoney was always a bit flighty. But I find it mildly amusing that he worked so hard to convince his father to not leave me to die after my first run-in with the Secret Keeper only to land me in this deathtrap prison ten years later. I still can’t figure out why he did it. I can’t really blame him. I probably would have done the same thing to him.

          What makes me the angriest is the thought of what he’s doing with my loot. I stole enough riches to equal a small fortune. Little bits and pieces building up over eight years, all from different parts of the Four Kingdoms. I’m probably the only thief who can say I’ve stolen at least some small trinket from each crown castle—Nansterdomian, Illfildellian, Karkruffian, and Silverdalian.

          Jackalton has probably taken all eight years worth of my loot and bought himself a nice little estate. He’s living in glutton while I sit here and starve in the prison he landed me in. I hope he’s caught in his lies. Someone has to catch him eventually, right? I’d laugh myself unconscious if he got paraded down here.

          So far I haven’t had anything to laugh about, except to laugh at myself and my own stupidity at trying to think up ways of escaping. I stopped hoping for some kind of miracle to allow me to escape. But I’ve still spent plenty of long hours dreaming about escaping this prison and my death sentence that looms in the future about five years from now.

 The chances of escape are extremely slim. That’s what the lower dungeons in each of the Four Kingdom’s crown castles were designed for. The dungeons have been used a bit more now that the feuds between the Four Kingdoms have grown bitter.

So here I am, Aster the Terrible, the man who could not be caught stuck in this dull prison with no escape. The only time that I’ll be let out of this dreary cell will be the day in five years and some months that I won’t come back. The day that I’m going to get hung for my crimes. Apparently I had enough of them stacked up to land me in prison for five years. The only thing Prince Snotty was good at, making sure none of my crimes went unnoticed.

Except for he forgot that one where I snitched a pie from some lady’s window. I doubt pointing that out to him would help my cause much. Prince Maffio would probably lob another ten years on me. He’s always prattling on about helping the poor and needy. He never does much except for imprison those who ‘torment’ the poor and needy meaning he should lock himself up. But I wouldn’t want him in my cellblock. He’d be one of those annoying neighbors that never shuts up no matter what you chuck at him.

I press my hands against my head trying to shut my last sight of Maffio out of it. I never realized how much memories can haunt you. I’d like a break from walking Memory Lane. I’d even take another run-in with the Secret Keeper to break the monotony.

The corner on the far side of my cell has become like a second home to me. It’s furthest from the door and what I deem as safe. The guards tend ignore you when they can’t see you. Sometimes I try to sleep, but it never comes easily. Other times I stare at the wall trying to convince myself that death by boredom is not the way to go.

I’m currently sitting with my back in the corner and my boots pressing against the opposite wall. I stare over my feet at the wall struggling to shove thoughts out of my head. Dreamy thoughts of escape, wringing Jackalton’s piggy neck, and food that looks like food and not like something that looks, smells, and tastes like yak upchuck. I think it’s time I grew up and smelled the burning bacon. I’m stuck.

As I’m grinding my backbone against the cell wall, I start to hear voices. It’s nothing distinct, far away, and very strange to hear. One of the first things that drove me crazy about this prison is how quiet it is. I was used to the never-ending voice of nature, having spent most of my life on the run. Stillness in the world outside this prison never means anything good.

I didn’t realize I’d gotten so used to the deadening silence until I hear the voices coming down the cellblock. They’re strange, almost foreign, like they’re speaking Karkruffian instead of the common tongue.

I start to hear the footsteps of the approaching party. Quite a few footsteps and among them there’s a pair that really sets itself apart from the others. Clunk, clomp. Like the owner of the feet is wearing two different kinds of shoes, one high-heeled the other flat, and is stumbling along with his flat-shoed companions.

The voices are getting closer. They don’t sound pleased to be here. Ah, probably a prison escort. I look up from my boots and through the cell bars wanting to see the doomed man they’re hauling down here. It’s very rare that a prisoner gets chucked into a cell near me. I’m kept in the furthest used cellblock before it comes too close to the unused torture chamber.

Clunk, clomp, clunk clomp.

I watch the flickering shadows as people walking down the cellblock. Trying to count the men walking down the cellblock proves difficult thanks to the torches. I can tell that there are at least five guards, and one man of rank approaching. As far as I can tell, they’re not dragging anyone. No shackled man to toss in this dull monotony today. But this only perks my curiosity further. If there’s no prisoner, why are they coming down here?

I expect them to walk on pass, but I hear the jingle of keys. The whole group stops at my cell door. Curiosity squelched. I no longer want to know what they’re doing. It hasn’t been five years. Only nine months! What are they doing here? Has Maffio finally convinced his father to hang me?

The lock clinks and jingles as the head guard slips the key inside. There’s an oily click and the lock is pulled free from the cell door. With a creak befitting a haunted house, the cell door is opened. A torch handed to the man of rank, illuminating him from top to bottom.

          My lips curl up in disgust as I look at him. He only has one leg. It’s clad in an expensive leather boot. The other is a plain wooden peg leg starting below his right knee. That’s new. He had a matching pair of feet the last time I saw him.

          I let my eyes slide up him from his peg leg, to the royal crest on his black silk vest, and on up to his clean-shaven face, a young face, he’d be in his late teens by now. A sneer crosses my face and I do absolutely nothing to get rid of it. This is the sniveling pup that spent so much time tracking me down and who was the one to eventually catch me. What does Snotty want now?

Prince Maffio’s blue eyes spark. He glares at me with the utmost disgust. His lips pucker as he says, “Aster the Terrible, the king has requested your help.”

 

Ah yes. Good things must come to an end. You can buy the rest of the book on Amazon.
Print copy here,
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Volume-1-Tayla-Durham/dp/1493540467/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1383931031&sr=1-1
Kindle here
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-ebook/dp/B00FWT4BHW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1383931031&sr=1-1&keywords=twisted+Tayla+durham

Almost done linking here, see my Facebook page for Twisted. If you liked this, please share it!
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Twisted/168658493335482

 

Thanks so much! Tayla out. ;)

 

 

Ready

This is a follow up post from yesterday. The Amazon store has Twisted listed already. You can now purchase my book.
The author screams with joy as she writes this. So many years I spent thinking this moment would never happen and now it has. I am beyond words to describe this feeling. =D

Here is where you can buy a print copy of my book through Amazon,
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-1-Tayla-Durham/dp/1493540467/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1383749984&sr=1-2&keywords=twisted+tayla+durham

Ready

Guess what???
Twisted is done. It is officially done. After 6 drafts, two rough edits, two and a half years of writing, dreaming and arguing with myself, my book is done.
This is surreal. I've spent so many years dreaming about how it would feel to write something like this. I've been trying to get a book published since I was ten, dream come true. I've been looking at quotes about dreams or at least noticed some on Facebook, and a lot of them said that the distance between a dream and reality is work.
I've done the work.
Two and a half years' worth.
So here's proof that dreams can come true. I mean this year has been both a crazy nightmare of roller-coaster emotions with my sudden change in health, school, and family, but it's also been the realization of several dreams. It took a lot of waiting (sometimes fairly impatiently) and work. None of this happened overnight, but I firmly believe that anyone can accomplish anything they put their mind to.
Want proof?
Well I'm an eighteen-year-old girl and I'm a published author. It took a lot of teeth gritting and a hard set mind to get to this point. I don't know anyone else who's my aged and a published author, so I'm feeling pretty successful. :)
It will be 5-7 days before Twisted is available in the Amazon store, but that's the company, not me. I'm done. The only thing I have left to do is to find ways to help you get my book. I wrote this book for you, it's no longer mine, my characters partially belong to you now and I want you to be able to enjoy them as much as I have. I'll let you know when you can buy the print copy, I'm keeping a close watch on Amazon.
On Friday I'm going to be previewing my first chapter on my blog. You can't miss it! Please (on hands and knees ;D) share this with your friends and family. I was told once that I wasn't much of an inspiration by a person I thought was a friend, but I want to share my story with as many people as I can. If my roller-coaster life can inspire, then I want to help. :)
Yes this year has been a crazy one, but I feel so much braver now than I did at the start. Yes this girl wasn't brave enough to talk to someone she didn't know, now she's cantering on a part shark part horse, publishing a book, and getting layers cut in her hair. Yeah. I want change, I've already snipped my bangs off Taylor Swift style (I'll post pictures later) and now I'm getting layers cut in my hair, Lindsey Stirling style.
Also, the sun is coming up and it snowed. Holiday season people! Woo! I used to dread the Holidays because of the tense family relations, but now even the horrible relationship I had with my cousins has eased, I talked with one for almost an hour!
Check back for the preview of the first chapter in Twisted!

Here's my Facebook page,
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Twisted/168658493335482
Please share this as much as you can, I can't do much if people don't notice that my book is out there. Thank you so much!

Here's Twisted on Amazon. It's only the Kindle for now, but the print copy will appear in the store in (yes, you know ;D) 5-7 days.
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-ebook/dp/B00FWT4BHW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1381855475&sr=1-1&keywords=Twisted+Tayla+Durham

Titanium

Ever had one of those bad days when it seemed that everything was combining against you? You woke up two hours before your alarm, couldn't fall back to sleep, then you suffered through endless schoolwork that was so dull you felt as though you were dying and then you see that something you worked hard on was an epic failure.
Yep. That's me today.
Except it was only an hour before my alarm and I chose to wake up.
The print copy of Twisted may be delayed even further, the cover is arguing with me and I'm seriously reaching the end of my rope and I've got some impressive rope burns from sliding down it. ;)
Yesterday I was so sick I could barely sit up, that lack of energy is following me today even though I'm somewhat better. I want to sit on the couch and do nothing but watch TV and that normally doesn't happen. I hate watching TV. Yes. I know. A teenager that despises TV. Let's clarify here, I hate watching things with no plot, or with plots that I can predict. There's a TV show that I can literally mouth every word the characters are about to say even though I've never seen them before, but I've seen so many things like it that when it comes to the show I already know what's going to happen.
I hate predictability. I want to be surprised!
But not like the surprise I got today. It was a nasty one. The original cover was too dark because of the layer I had behind it when it was flattened. I tried fixing that, but I did it wrong and now I have to fight it some more and I'm tired of arguing with it, hence the "only want to watch TV" mood.
But I am happy to announce that I fixed a problem that's been bugging me for years. It used to be that on Sunday to Monday nights I couldn't sleep. It was a regular occurance for me to stay up until 3 because I couldn't fall asleep. I figured out the problem completely on accident. I was staying up too late and wiring myself (meaning my body was tired, but it was wired to stay awake) and on a Sunday when I'd had enough and went to bed at 9:40 a time I rarely hit the sack at, I slept like a rock.
Voila.
Okay so I'll give myself this credit, this year I learned how to solve problems. :)
Now if only I could figure out how to fix my cover. It's the only thing holding me back.

Check out my Facebook page for Twisted
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Twisted/168658493335482?directed_target_id=0

And the Kindle edition
http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-ebook/dp/B00FWT4BHW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1381941745&sr=1-1&keywords=twisted+Tayla+durham