***99-cent Children’s Ebook, 7/31 – 8/2/ 2019!***

***99-cent children’s ebook. July 31 – August 2, 2019!***

Mary & Jerry Canary & Enun C. Ate (2018)

Get the book here.

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Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

The Liebster Award Nomination!

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What an honor! I’ve been blessed with The Liebster Award nomination by my dynamic fellow blogger, Dragthepen21.

  1. Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog and answer the questions they presented.
  2. Link back to the blogger who awarded you.
  3. Copy & paste The Liebster Award logo to your blog.
  4. Nominate 5 blogs to receive the award who have less than 3,000 followers.
  5. Create a new list of questions for them.
  6. Inform them of their nomination.

Liebster Award Questions

1. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Some place near the water. I was a mermaid in my last life.

2. What is one silly moment you’ve had that you’d like to share? There are so many! I am a major goofball. One habitual thing: Our dog tears up his toys, and I post CSI reports on the toy “deaths.” People love it.

3. What is your favorite dessert? – Anything chocolate.

4. What has been the greatest blessing through blogging? – That the only limit is my imagination.

5. What is your favorite room in your home? – Our bedroom. It is so cozy.

6. Do you have a favorite animal? If so, what is it? I adore butterflies.

7. What is your favorite trait about yourself? – My mild clairvoyance.

8. What is your favorite color? – Red!

9. What is your favorite time of day? – I am morning person, through and through. I love sunrise, the smell of breakfast, and fresh starts to a day.

Once again, many thanks for this nomination. Visit the person who nominated me at Dragthepen21.

I choose these 5 recipients of The Liebster Award. Voila!

Joe @Short Story Scribe

Pam @Two-Minute Tuneup

Darnell @Fictionista

Mark @Word Refiner

Megan @AGeekyGal

Bye for now,

Sean

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

Flash Fiction: The Rebel

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The Rebel

By Sean C. Wright-Neeley

“Hurry up, Elsie! Your breakfast is getting cold!”

“Coming!” the girl hollered back. She scurried out of her room with her backpack in tow. She wore a tee-shirt that said “MEAT IS MURDER,” a pair of distressed jeans, and a large bell around her neck. Elsie deposited her backpack on the couch, and sat down at the table. She wrinkled her nose at the food before her. “I’m not eating that,” Elsie bleated, pointing to the eggs, “and I’m definitely not drinking that,” she said, gesturing to the milk. Her mother sighed, and threw up her hands. Her father snorted and scowled, shoveled in a forkful of eggs. “All right then. Just eat the toast. Give the eggs to your father, and the milk to your brother.” Elsie kept her head down, as she nibbled the bread, sans butter. Her little brother gulped the milk without coming up for air.

Elsie headed towards the bus stop. She passed Hooman Beans Farm on the way. There was a fenced pasture where the creatures ate from troughs. They glanced miserably at her, every time she passed. There were rumors that the creatures had been able to speak once, but their vocal cords had been cut for centuries. Evolutionary played on that until they were finally just born without them.

Once, she stopped, and a sad, mute creature ambled towards her. Elsie had stuck her hand through the chain links, and stroked its head. It seemed to speak with its eyes. Eyes that said, “help me.”

A female. The thing had looked down woefully at her pendulous bosom, and stumbled away. The hormones the farm routinely injected into the females gave them swollen teats that weren’t milked until they were about to burst. Elsie couldn’t imagine someone hooking them up to a machine to milk them over and over. It must be a nightmare that never ended. The females’ unfertilized eggs were collected, too, and eaten. Her mother had tried to feed her a plate of those scrambled things this morning. Ugh.

If the creatures themselves weren’t used for milk or eggs, then they were eaten. Steaks, ground meat, ribs. Sometimes even their young were eaten. That delicacy was called veal. Elsie shuddered. She looked at the creatures in the pasture while shifting her weight on her pink-painted hooves. “This is so wrong, and disgusting. I wish I could help,” Elsie whispered to the creatures in the pasture. Creatures with naked skins – in colors of white, black, brown, yellow, and red – and no fur, except on their heads.

Her father had told her that humans would eat cows if they had the chance; eat their unborn children from another species (eggs), children (veal), and drink their mammary fluid (milk). “No way, dad,” Elsie had replied, “hooman beans are the gentlest creatures I know. They would never.” Her father had smirked.

Elsie turned away on unsteady hooves, and trudged towards the bus stop, wondering if there was even a chance that her father might be right about hooman beans. Couldn’t be. No one would be as cruel to us, as we are to them.Again, Elsie firmly committed herself to avoid dining on their flesh and their byproducts. Consuming grass and bread was the only way for her to fight back for now. Elsie threw her head back, and let loose a battle cry; a loud, yodeling moo.

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

Lady Rougepen Says: You Can Slay the First Draft Monster

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A hopeful writer told me he trashed his first draft because it was “terrible.” I cringed. ALL first drafts are terrible. Editing adds facets, and polishes it, like you do to a rough diamond. Please don’t abandon a writing project, based on a first draft. Nearly every one can be rescued. Every published novel you read went through at least 3 editing rounds.

Write on.

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

Flash Fiction: The Interview

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The Interview

By Sean C. Wright-Neeley

Good signs everywhere. The weather and traffic were agreeable, Walter had arrived ten minutes early, and the receptionist was pretty. She frowned, though, when she called the manager he was supposed to speak to. “I’m sorry,” she said to Walter, “Nicole is not answering. Let me see who else is available.”

Walter nodded, peeled off the wax paper backing for his temporary name badge, and stuck it to his left breast.

“Okay then. That’s good. I’ll let him know,” Pretty at the Front Desk said into the phone, and hung it up. “Nicole has been called away on an emergency, but another manager, Sherry, was briefed on your resume, so you can interview with her. Please have a seat, and she will be out shortly to get you.”

“That’s fine,” Walter replied. He took his portfolio, strode over to a tan leather chair, and sat. So far, this is the only hiccup. I’m sure I can wow this Sherry lady, the same as I can Nicole.

After nearly ten minutes, Sherry, a tall, polished woman in an oatmeal pantsuit and royal-blue scarf, entered the lobby. She stopped and stared at Walter momentarily and all his good vibes about the day vanished. She didn’t introduce herself; didn’t offer her hand. Instead, Sherry pointed her open palm, passed the pretty receptionist’s desk. “Shall we?” she said flatly.

Walter felt his heart sink, like he was going down the steep hill of a rollercoaster, but he rose from the chair, tried to smile, and followed Sherry to the door.

The interview was terse. Walter felt as if Sherry weren’t listening to anything he said, and she didn’t ask to see his portfolio. He offered it for good measure though. Sherry turned the pages, silently, as she studied his graphic designs. As she looked down, familiarity nudged Walter. Sweat popped out on his upper lip.

The Twin Palms Hotel Ballroom – 1986

The dance was only to last for another thirty minutes.

“Don’t worry,” one of the other girls said, over the music, “I’ll get my cousin Walter to dance with you.” Sherry’s peer had run across the ballroom floor, weaving in and out of dancing couples, over to a group of boys who had their heads together, talking. She had tapped Cousin Walter on the shoulder, and leaned in close to his ear. He looked in Sherry’s direction, taking her in, as she stood against the wall. She knew what he saw: a tall, painfully-thin girl in a sleeveless, hot-pink number that showed off her bony elbows. Elbows, jutting like doorknobs. Foundation gave her acne very little relief. She looked like a pimply spaghetti noodle, sporting a stick of bubble gum. Cousin Walter shook his head, with his eyes still on her. Sherry looked down, her mouth working, as if she might cry.

Sherry stalked away to the bathroom. She could hear the DJ put on the record “Computer Love,” from inside there. She blotted her shiny face with napkins, and planted herself on the ladies’ room couch. Other adolescent girls flitted in and out, all giddy with youthful cheer, as they came to quickly relieve themselves and touch up their hair and makeup, so they could hurry back out their dancing partners. Her “friend” had come looking for her, and frowned when she saw Sherry on the couch. “Headache,” Sherry had said, “I’m leaving early.”

Her father had picked her up after she called him from a payphone, doing his best to make idle chat on the way home. “Sorry you’re not feeling well. Did you have a good time for the time you stayed?”

Sherry pretended to look out the window of their silver Volvo, as one tear, as solitary as she had been that night, slid down her cheek. “Yeah, dad,” she replied quietly.

*****

Walter stood transfixed in the company’s parking lot after the interview. The remembrance of that night flashed at him, as bright as a new penny on a sidewalk in the sunshine. He hung his head, and slowly walked to his car. He’d be standing in the unemployment line for a little bit longer. Of that, Walter was sure.

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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Skoll’s Diary Interview

I had the pleasure of speaking with Tonisha Mitchell, founder of Wonders of the World Book and Toy, a site that now carries Skoll’s Diary. We had a leisurely, yet meaningful chat about my 8th book. Set aside about 30 minutes to get a behind-the-scenes peek into what went into crafting this sci-fi, Afro-futuristic novel, and my life an an indie author.

See the interview here.

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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Lady Rougepen Says: Come Again, Gen?

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The root word “gen” is Greek for “something produced,” or “the beginning,” like in these words:

  • Genesis
  • Genes/genetic
  • Generation
  • Generic
  • Generator

It also implies something out of thin air, like “genie.” Pretty “genius,” huh?

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

Book Review — Honey Riley by Sean C. Wright

Another author reviewed my book, favorably.

Short Story Scribe

Wow — Simply Wow!

In Honey Riley, Sean Wrighttakes takes us on a journey of a family’s life. A “gift” handed down from generation to generation is the highlight, but this is at its core, the story of family.

Sean Wright doesn’t simply use words to tell this tale, she uses beautiful prose. It captivates you from the opening line, and touches your heart up through the closing.

Honey Riley is a good story in every sense. More so, it is a good story every author hopes to one day write.


“Who am I?”

I am an independent, self-published teller of tales, an author of scarcely any renown. However, as a storyteller, I know who I am, and with that persona, I am both confident and comfortable.

I invite you to visit my website,

ShortStoryScribe.com

and/or Amazon Author Pages

Joe Leonardi                 

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3 Gripes From a Frustrated Indie Author

Speedwriting

I signed up for the good, the bad, and the ugly in becoming an indie author. The good? Absolute creative control. The bad? As with any writer: writer’s block, nasty reviews, and disappointing book sales always hover, like bloodthirsty mosquitoes. The ugly? I’m about to get into that. There are some annoyances that are unique to indie authors. I have since learned not to take any of these things personally, and to push back, if I even get a whiff of disdain. So, here are the not-so-nice things I hear while on my independent writing journey, and my brilliant rebuttals.

Indie authors are lower-quality writers because they don’t have agents. Some readers assume that you’re an indie author because no agent would take you. That might be true to some extent, but as I stated before, you possess absolute control over your writing projects when you’re an indie author. Go with an agent, or publishing house, and they will often ask you to change certain lines in your books, or decide which covers the books will have. They sometimes even change book titles. I once had a short story, changed so much by a publisher, that hardly any of my original words remained. Yikes. As anyone in the creative field knows, your projects are your babies. And we indie authors can dress our babies however we like. If you want publishers to publish your book, you have to submit to their soul-killing demands. I love that I can release my own words, well, in my own words, design the cover artwork, set my own deadlines, and choose how the book will be marketed.

If people don’t want to read something you wrote because it’s not in a genre they like, fine. But to put a cigarette out on an author’s head because he or she is sans a literary agent is book snobbery. And frankly, it really frosts my cookie. Some superb classics were self-published books: Eragon, The Joy of Cooking, Peter Rabbit, What Color is Your Parachute?, and many more. And some books published by big publishing houses (sorry, not sorry) are garbage.

How about a freebie? Anyone who knows me knows that I’m generous, but this is business. You wouldn’t ask a clothing designer for a free evening gown. And in the writing community, you wouldn’t dare ask Terry McMillan for one of her books for free, so why do people feel it’s fine to ask self-publishers for free copies of their books? It’s very baffling. Sometimes, it’s overt. “I don’t have a Kindle, could you send me a paperback?” Sometimes, it’s covert. “I would love to be a beta reader for that book. Let me know if you need one.” Please stop asking indie authors to gift you with free copies of their books. They usually do giveaways, anyhow, so there are plenty of chances to win one. Or we like to give them as gifts. Either way, wait until we offer a free copy for your enjoyment, or for feedback. Please don’t ask.

Hold my hand. This builds on my preceding gripe. It’s okay to ask fellow indie authors for advice, if you’re attempting your own writing journey, too, but compensate them for their time if it’s a huge favor. I once had a fellow self-publisher message me, asking if I would be his tech support, while he set up his book on the publishing website. I was at work at the time, so I was annoyed. I politely replied that he needed to contact the site’s help line to walk him through each screen. They get paid for that service; not me. Then there are the fellow writers who ask you to edit or beta-read their manuscripts for free. I totally understand that writers are starving people, but at least offer to barter; a free, signed copy of your book, buying dinner, a gift card, posting about their books on your blog, etc. We all win in the indie writing community when we support each other –  and feed each other.

So fellow self-publishers, what challenges have you noticed or faced in your lone wolf writing journey? I open the floor to you.

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

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I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy

Flash Fiction: The Men Excelling and Terrific Award

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The Men Excelling and Terrific Award

By Sean C. Wright-Neeley

Carl was to receive the Men Excelling and Terrific Award at a ceremony in Las Vegas. The driver picked him up at four o’ clock sharp. Carl handed him his bags, and settled into the SUV with the other men. He was chosen, along with the two other men in the car from neighboring cities. They introduced themselves to each other, and the car got to rolling.

The driver masked his annoyance at his passengers on the way to the airport, as Carl removed his shoes and propped up his smelly feet on the console, and smacked his chewing gum. Another passenger wore a permanently sour expression, and spewed profanity-laced statements about the traffic and weather. The other man incessantly cracked up at his own jokes – all of them either corny or dirty.

The flight went smoothly. Carl and the other two men were greeted at the airport that evening by people he thought somewhat strange. They all wore dark, well-tailored clothing, and were pale to almost transparency. The people’s aura was intensely cultured to the point of self-containment. However, they seemed genuinely happy to see Carl and the other two men.

They shuttled them to a nice hotel, told them to rest, and to be ready for dinner in about two hours. When the time came, they ushered Carl and the other two into the banquet hall, and told them to help themselves to a lavish buffet. The man with the sour face actually lessened his scowl, as he helped himself to plate after plate of prime rib. Joke Factory was quiet for once, while he stuffed his face with macaroni and cheese, swimming in rich gouda. Carl ate heartily, too, but noticed that his hosts had left. “Why aren’t they eating with us?” he asked the other men, through a mouth, crammed full of pepperoni pizza. They looked around, shrugged, and kept eating. It was curious to Carl, but he was more enamored with his savory pizza and criminally-delicious brownies. He smacked and smacked, and didn’t say excuse me when he burped.

And so it went that way for the next few days. Their hosts – who were always absent during the day – told them to enjoy themselves – eating, resting, gambling, visiting ladies of the evening, going to spas – whatever they wanted to do in Sin City. They provided food that was so delicious that the men were really too full and lethargic to do anything else. It had only been a few days, but none of their pants fit anymore.

The night they were to receive the award, the three men were again ushered to the banquet hall. The hosts didn’t vacate the room this time. Large men closed and locked the doors, as soon as they entered. There was no lavish buffet, only a large tarp in the middle of the room.

Carl whirled around. “W-where are the awards? Dinner?” The guards did not answer, only gazed at him with something like…hunger. Their hosts, the quartet of pale, beautiful people smiled covertly. The were dressed to the nines. Men wore black, three-piece suits with top hats. The women’s black gowns billowed and reached the floor, and were edged in ruffles and lace. Carl instantly thought of saloons and stagecoaches. The other two award-winners said nothing, just exchanged quizzical glances.

One of the women in black stepped forward. “Congratulations. You three won the Men Excelling and Terrific Award. You have been pampered and fed excessively for a very special purpose. Please step onto the tarp.”

Sour Face glowered and nearly spit, “Hell-fucking-no. What is this?”

Joke Factory laughed awkwardly, and spoke with a catch in his voice, “1870 called. They want their clothes back.”

“To nourish us,” one of the men in a black suit said, stepping forward as well.

Joke Factory cackled, “You gotta be kidding.”

“No,” the other man in black stated, “Unlike you, I am not attempting to be humorous. Tell me, dear boy: what does the acronym for Men Excelling and Terrific spell?”

There was a five-second silence then it was Carl who whispered, “MEAT. All this food…You were fattening us up.”

“You can’t do this!” Sour Face exclaimed, “We have friends and family back at home, waiting for us. You don’t think we’ll be missed, you sick bastards?”

The second woman stepped forward, and coolly explained things to the three horrified men. “Those closest to you offered you up. They’re going to file a missing person’s report on you in a few days, but we will be long gone by then.

“All three of you are blights on humanity, and must be removed from the gene pool. You do nothing, but agitate others, and take up space. You,” she said, pointing to Carl, “are a foul and sloppy man.” Carl dropped his head. “You,” she said, pointing to Sour Face, “are a negative person who casts darkness on the sunniest days. And you,” she said to Joke Factory, “are as annoying as they come; a crude and relentless buffoon who never knows when to give it a rest. So,” she continued, scanning their faces, “we travel from town-to-town, feasting on nominees, while humans rid themselves of dreadful people. It’s a wonderful, win-win setup.  We’ve been doing it since 1873.”

Joke Factory had been right in his guess about the time period.

Suddenly, all four people in black grinned and hissed, showing needle-like fangs, and rushed at them, as the three award-winners tried to edge back towards the doors. They bumped into the guards who shoved them onto the tarp. The three men didn’t even get a chance to scream, as the quartet in black and the guards bit into the flesh of their necks.

Sean C. Wright is the author of 8 books. For more information about her writing skills and how she can assist you with yours–business or consumer–visit https://seanarchy.wordpress.com.

IMG_4170

 

I’m pleased to announce the release of my 8th book, Skoll’s Diary.

Africans and African Americans left Earth in 1900, and went to another planet in The Milky Way to escape mistreatment…

It’s now the year 3005 on that terraformed planet. We get a peek into the life of a bright and sensitive teenaged boy, Skoll, through his journal. He loves his world, but is curious about life on Earth. Then suddenly, an epic event casts him in the middle of a difficult decision.  The fate of the planet’s community is in his hands.

Get the book here. I’d appreciate your leaving a review if you read it. Thanks in advance!

Afro-Sean-Commission-Final copy