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One disastrous night. One devastating man. One diabolical proposition.


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He’s stubborn. She’s tougher. His kid? Already picked the bride.


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A small-town second chance wrapped in danger, desire, and Sharon Sala heart.


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She came home to save the ranch… and found the cowboy she never forgot.


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From reality TV heartbreak to real-life reinvention.


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A missing twin. A deadly cartel. One K-9 team caught in the crossfire.



Love, Danger, Homecomings & Heart β€” Your June Reading Escape Starts Here


Fresh Fiction Blog
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Amy K. Sorrells | When Fiction Turns to Reality

β€œWhat was wrong with that man? Why didn’t he do something?”

The women around the table raised their hands and slapped the table with disgust
as they complained about the man named Vaughn Harlan.

Who could blame them? He was, after all, an enabler of the behavior which resulted in the unexpected, violent start to my novel, HOW SWEET THE SOUND.

I laughed as the members of the book club went on to talk about him and the
other characters they found to be particularly infuriating as if they were
holding a Monday morning gossip session at the local coffee shop. This is the
part about writing a novel I hadn’t expectedβ€”when the fiction becomes reality.
And it’s the reason why visiting with book clubs is my favorite part of the
publishing journey. It’s one thing to have imaginary people carrying on in your
own head. It’s a whole other thing when they begin carrying on in the heads and
out of the mouths of others.

β€œTell me everything you likedβ€”and especially what you didn’t likeβ€”about my
book,” I tell the book club members when I introduce myself, because what riles
them up is what makes the book real for them. What riles them up is what makes
the story come alive and stick to a reader’s heart. And when a story sticks to
the heart, it has can change a life.

β€œI hated Princella,” said one woman at a book club I attended in a dimly lit
restaurant. β€œShe was too much. Over-the-top. No one in real life is that mean.”

I was not offended by her truthful disdain for the way I’d shaped the character.
I was, however, surprised by the response of the woman sitting next to me who
had been particularly quiet most of the meal.

She studied the red wine as she twirled it around in the rounded bottom of the
glass, then looked across the table at the woman who’d just spoken. β€œYou’ve
obviously didn’t grow up the way I grew up. [Princella’s] pretty mild compared
to the women I’ve known.”

The conversation burst wide open after that, tears fell, laughter rang out. I
soaked in the banter of real people talking about how characters I’d imagined so
long, shaped and re-shaped, edited and tweaked had become so much more than fiction.

Not unlike Pinocchio, they’re real people now.

Alive in the hearts of readers.

Have a book club memory to share? Comment below for your chance to win a copy of HOW SWEET THE SOUND and some Southern pecans!

Comments

13 comments posted.

Re: Amy K. Sorrells | When Fiction Turns to Reality

I don't really belong to a book club but I love it when my family read books together - like the harry potter series and the game of thrones series. We are still debating who John Snow is.
(Pam Howell 6:33am September 19, 2014)

I don't belong to a book club. The one club out here reads
some really strange books, from what I've heard, and half of
the members aren't that pleased about it. My Husband and I
are caretakers where we live, and I volunteer once a week to
teach a knitting class. It doesn't leave me a lot of time
to get involved in much else, since I also knit and crochet
items for people that I know who have suffered hardships in
their lives. Just losing my Father recently myself, it's
been hard trying to go through the day-to-day grind of daily
life, because his death was sudden. I'm still in the
process of going through his Estate papers, and settling
things with my Sisters. Anyway, reading is an escape I get
to as often as I can, along with my knitting and crocheting,
to get away from problems, and just be in my own world,
instead of debate with others the finer parts of literature.
Perhaps someday, when I have more time, I'll join a book
club.
(Peggy Roberson 10:48am September 19, 2014)

Your post today was thought provoking. When a friend and I
got together we discussed books for hours, classics,
fiction and many from days gone by when we were much
younger. We loved comparing our viewpoints on various
characters and the writing as well. I am an avid reader and
love to get involved within the pages of a book.
(Sharon Berger 11:54am September 19, 2014)

never joined a "book club". usually me and my friends just email or facebook each other about the books we are reading and enjoying.
(Angela Parrish 5:46pm September 19, 2014)

I love Southern fiction/ Thank you for the giveaway. I am in a book club called Nifty Fifty...it has bloomed from 5 gals to nearly 20...we pick one classic per year and the rest of the titles are put in a hat..and that's how they're chosen.
(Susan Coster 6:47pm September 20, 2014)

I'm not in a book club, either. The book club at the library picks books in advance, and they aren't that interesting to me. I like mystery, and historical novels, mostly. Your novel sounds like a god read to me!
(Kathleen Gardiner 12:20pm September 21, 2014)

I meant a good read.
(Kathleen Gardiner 12:24pm September 21, 2014)

My book club is talking on facebook with all the other
bloggers. It is really fun!
(Denise Austin 2:30pm September 21, 2014)

I'm not in a hook club. I'm not even sure we have one in my small town.
(Anna Speed 3:33pm September 21, 2014)

i love reading but not in book club currently
(Debbi Shaw 8:24pm September 21, 2014)

I wish I was in a book club!
(Vicki Hancock 11:58pm September 21, 2014)

Even though I enjoy reading, I am not in a book club.
(Bonnie H 8:53pm September 24, 2014)

I have never really lived in one place long enough to find a book club to join. But I have been reading romance since I was a teenager. I was the kid that saved up their allowance to walk a couple of miles to the store to by the early Harlequins. Yup that was me.
(Ann Bartok 11:04pm October 1, 2014)

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