indie author – Page 7 – Britt Skrabanek

Writing. It’s glamorous.

Sometimes writers think of the perfect dialogue for that intense moment. Sometimes we scribble it down quickly and leave it lying around. Sometimes our spouse picks up the post-it and wonders where it all went wrong.

Just a little writing funny to share with you guys. I’ve been pretty aloof lately, a crazed woman with questionable hair holed up in the editing cave.

Mr. H is a trooper, watching me cautiously from afar.

Each day I’m drowning in stacks of paper and piles of cats, rubbing red pen off my hands, laughing at ridiculous typos, talking to myself…WAY too much, and trying to fight off bursting into tears for no reason at all.

Oh yeah…what the heck is with the English language?

I stared at the word “first” for a good fifteen minutes one day last week. I even checked merriam-webster.com. I’m still suspicious, but I guess I’ll go with it.

Our apartment is dirty, and littered with maniacal post-its. But, I’m almost ready to hand off this book of mine to another set of eyes.

Don’t worry. We will survive, as will the cats.

Writing. It’s glamorous.

Any psycho writer stories you’d like to share below? Go for it! I could use the moral support right now.

Author Interview: Britt Skrabanek

Hey, lovely humans!

Just wanted to share my very first author interview with you all!!! (Can you tell I’m super stoked?) Sheila Hurst is a real gem for taking some time to sit down with me and my cat editing team. It was a surreal and awesome experience.

Stop by Sheila’s to check it out…

Sheila Hurst

I’m excited to introduce Britt Skrabanek, author of Beneath the Satin Gloves and Everything’s Not Bigger. Thank you for trudging through the snow to visit and for bringing Aphrodite and Hazel, your cat editing team. I’m sure they’ll help keep us warm while we talk.

I loved your descriptions of Berlin in Beneath the Satin Gloves. Have you lived there?

One summer in college I studied abroad in a sleepy town near Stuttgart, then my husband and I traveled to Berlin a few years after that. People were surprised we were only going to Berlin for ten days and blatantly encouraged us to do the usual tourist fail. You know the one – trying to squeeze in the entire continent of Europe, never stopping to absorb the experience. That’s not our thing at all, so we scooped up an apartment in former East Berlin and lived there for a…

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2nd Draft…BAM!

It all began in August, the dreaded second draft.

The first time you read the work you poured your heart and soul into can be a frightening thing. A damn frightening thing.

Is it shit? I mean, is it complete and total shit?

Well, it might be to other people but I dig it. And at the end of the day, amidst subjective opinions on all things artistic, if I dig it, then that’s really all that matters.

This second draft and I are war buddies.

Over the past four months we stuck it out together, on Sundays for a chunk of time and usually on Wednesday nights when I was ready to keel over from day job and Yoga teaching repercussions.

I worked over a couple of paragraphs, folded some laundry, then parked it back in my chair and continued. My dinner got cold on the table just so I could sneak a page in. Headphones blocked out everything from Sunday football to my guitarist wannabee apartment manager on the first floor (we live two floors above him, we often want to chop our ears off and be done with it), so I could manage an entire chapter.

Last weekend I trudged through the final pages and finished. Bam!

If it hadn’t been so arctic outside, I probably would’ve screamed out my window: “Second draft, you were my Everest. And, I conquered your ass!”

But, I refrained. And my neighbors shall continue loathing our noisy manager rather than yours truly, the dorky writer with too much enthusiasm.

I had to share the excitement with all of you guys though.

There’s still a long road ahead, including the next stage which I call “The Serial Killer Phase”. Nope, I don’t write about serial killers. However when it’s time to reference the serial killer notes sitting on my bedside table, that’s the phase I’m talking about.

Writers, you know the notes. Random thoughts and dialogue, groovy sentences from authors who know a thing or two, and of course, the crazed scribbling that happens in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning.

Obsession with a splash of insomnia. Hence, serial killer notes…

Lastly, there will be more editing, reading, editing, reading…until I can’t stand looking at it anymore. That’s where my in-law editors come in for moral support, right before I chuck the dissected, stitched, scarred draft promptly in the garbage.

Long story short, my vague release date for The Bra Game is set for late Spring 2014. So, yay for that!

Beneath the Satin Gloves – FREE on Smashwords!

That’s right, loves! For the rest of October my debut indie book is totally FREE on Smashwords.

For those unfamiliar with Smashwords, know that they are a very pro-indie author distributor, offering any e-book format in existence. Instructions are right here so you know what to do after you download the format you need. With my Kindle Fire, I just email the mobi file right to my Kindle email address.

To get the free goods, use the coupon code down below.

A modern day woman, torn by her illusive dreams, awakens to a strange life in 1943, hurdled against the throes of destruction in wartime Berlin. Following a haphazard trail of clues, she discovers her new identity as Alina Feuer, code-named Sparrow, a famous entertainer, seducing a high-ranking SS officer to gather vital information for the Allies.

But, Alina is an amateur in these incessant spy games, relying solely on her wit and instinct to make her next move while frantically hiding her erratic behavior from the watchful eyes of her suspicious liaison/love interest and her pestering socialite gal pal along the way. A reluctant heroine, she must use charismatic glamour as her weapon of choice to fulfill her deadly mission before the week is through.

Click here to buy on Smashwords

(just copy and paste coupon code MS89Y at check-out)

In true indie fashion, I interviewed myself. Check it out…

Vintage Soul

I know I’m not a new soul, but I’m not sure I’m an old soul either. Too much pressure with wisdom and all that jazz.

But, a vintage soul. That I am.

Vintage dress addiction. Guilty.

Half of my Pandora stations pre-1970. Yep, guilty.

Exclaiming “jeepers” in my kitchen last week. Guilty again.

Pretending to live in another time via fiction. So guilty.

My unhealthy obsession with World War II prompted me to write my first book Beneath the Satin Gloves. I didn’t have a clue how to write a book. I had a dream that shook me to my core. The ideas started filtering onto some crappy notebook I scribbled on during my lunch break. After telling Mr. H about it, he dared me to write a book.

After three years of off and on, and one cross-country move, I finished my first book. Since none of the agents I solicited gave two shits, I self-published, happily joining the indie author movement.

I’ve sold a few books. Not a ton, but some.

I haven’t thought much about the 1940s, except during backstory parts of my current WIP, The Bra Game, which mainly takes place in the 1950s.

Once I released my first baby into the world, I just moved on.

Until one night recently when I looked out my window and stared at my imagination come to life right across the damn street. I blinked, I blinked some more.

But, it was still there. A freaking 1940s limousine.

Now I’m not going to say that my book is historically accurate to perfection. Writing about a time when neither you nor your parents existed doesn’t offer much insight.

By golly, I did my research as best as I could!

The one scene that stumped me involved a limousine. I wrote everything, then stared blankly and pondered for weeks. I knew limousines then looked nothing like they do today. In fact, without researching their appearance at all, I envisioned it.

Turns out, creepy as it is, I pictured the 1940s limousine exactly the way it looked.

Yes, I gave myself a big pat on the back and squealed like the nerd I truly I am. Yes, I dragged Mr. H across the street, even though we were tipsy and wearing our pajamas, just so we could look at it and take way too many pictures.

This gem belonged to a swanky (actually, they were just really cute) old couple, who were visiting Milwaukee for a car show. Don’t worry, we weren’t the only creepers ogling the limo.

In fact, almost every person that walked by stopped and stared.

It was cool to see so many pedestrians appreciate such an artistic piece of history parked on the street. How can you not be captivated by such a sleek machine? Original paint. Original interior. All preserved by a man who couldn’t help but love it endlessly.

After we went back upstairs to our teensy, vintage apartment, the owner came out to grab something out of his kick-ass car. Some college guys stopped and soon enough, the old dude and the young dudes were hanging out talking shop.

I’m not a car enthusiast, personally. But when I saw this 1940s limo, its old beauty warmed my silly, vintage soul.

What about you guys? Ever seen a historical wonder that made your heart go pitter-patter?