Rules, broken

“Any halfway decent artist can outline,” she sneered.

You can’t sneer a statement.

She raised her eyes to his.

What’d she do, pick them up off the floor?

Long ago and far away, when I first had this thing called a critique group, a thing that was foreign to me, I was taught these “rules.” I had never heard of these “rules.” I didn’t know what was wrong with raising one’s eyes or sneering one’s reply. I found such phrasings helpful and I read lots of books that had such things in it, lots of books by famed (and good) authors.

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The Proviso rebooted

You know how when you’re in a discussion and it’s really animated and you have things to say but you don’t get to because the discussion’s going by too fast and then you forget until you go home and you’re cracking wise to yourself because you really are that witty, but your timing’s shit and you go to bed annoyed because you didn’t think of it when it really mattered?

And you know how you laugh at a joke you don’t understand because everyone is laughing and you don’t want to look stupid, but you forget about it until, like, seven years later you come across the joke and you’ve lived a little between then and now, and now you get it and it’s hilarious?

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Two new books

Best friends forever...until the first kiss.
Best friends forever…until the first kiss.
Sometimes love isn't enough...until it is.
Sometimes love isn’t enough…until it is.


go on sale today!

The print books are available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and all the regular places.

The ebooks are available from me (see links above), Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and all the regular places (iBooks coming soon). From now until May 15, 2014, they will be priced at $1.99. After, they will be $5.99 and $4.99 respectively.

Get ’em now!

Being honest with your fellow man

Jennie Hansen is a respected reviewer/writer in Mormon fiction. She reviews at Meridian Magazine and (I believe) is a judge for the Whitney Awards.

She is also a LIAR.


I have been very unhappily mostly silent about this for two years now, but one of her latest blog posts, “A Reviewer’s Confession,” has me seeing red and I’ll be damned if I sit silent any longer.

In this confession, she said:

Only once did I give a book a one star rating and that was because the language was filthy and the author hadn’t researched LDS policy. (The author came unglued over my rating!)

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Dunham: The Past

It is finished. I will now wring out my brain.

Now, you! Go go go! Get it and enjoy Revolutionary War swashbuckling on this Independence Day!

Dunham (Tales of Dunham: The Past) cover

Tales of Dunham: The Past
© 2013 by Moriah Jovan
295,000 words


Amazon print | Kindle
Barnes & Noble print | Nook
Smashwords ebook
Google Play ebook
Omnilit ebook
Kobo ebook

EXCERPT: EPUB | Kindle | PDF | online

For an autographed print copy ($27.99 with free shipping; email me for personalization), click the print button (no, it won’t print anything):

Side note: A bit of this book occurs on the Barbary Coast. Celia, the heroine, has spent some time in Egypt. So I am finding the Egyptian uprising today particularly poignant. Independence Day for Egyptians too?

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ship_sectionbreak copy

Pre-ordering autographed copies

I finished this project up long before I thought I would. All that’s left is uploading the digital versions to the various sites and pulling the trigger on the print version at Amazon. So it got me thinking. For those of you who like print, how’d you like to pre-order an autographed copy? (Can’t guarantee before the release date, though I will try!)

Now, because I use a POD printer instead of storing 5,000 copies in my garage, they’re pricey (well, okay, in my defense, they can also be used as doorstoppers), BUT I will cover shipping, just like Amazon!

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A professional milestone

It may or may not be common knowledge that, under my real name, I run B10 Mediaworx, an author services / digital formatting company, which I’ve been doing for the past … mmm … four years. I think. Anyway, before that, I was an at-home medical transcriptionist for six years. I haven’t worked out of doors in ten years.

Well, doing this with babies/toddlers isn’t easy, let me tell you, but once they started going to school, my work life got a lot more productive. And it was so blessedly QUIET. I love(d) working at home. Free and breezy. But a couple of years ago, I found I had a lot more work to do AND I was slacking on the internet during the quiet time. So I started going to the UMKC library on Sundays to work, because they’re open until 11:00pm. AND it was a hassle getting a password for the internet, which I declined to do, because I didn’t WANT to be on the internet. One problem: They aren’t open every Sunday. Well, okay, I could work around that.

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The making of Dunham

And so begins a post (or series of them) (you know how wishy-washy I am) on Dunham, the privateer-heroine and pirate-hero Revolutionary War swashbuckler, which, for those of you not following the serial, will be available for sale July 4, 2013.

To kick it off, here’s the final cover for the official book:


I struggled with the question of whether to go with a slightly modified version of the serial’s cover to deal with familiarity to those who’ve followed the story all year (yes, almost a year!). But in the end, I decided not to. Why? Several reasons.

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Veni, vidi, vici.

stfu_lg1I had several ideas for this post’s title:

“I’m not one of you.”
“Repeating myself”
“Tired of the sound of my own voice”
“Being silent”
“Serial starter”

Anyway, all of them are pertinent to my point, but they all mean different things. I’ll take them one by one.

“I’m not one of you.”

In the cult of self-publishing, the loudest voices are the ones who write fast and put out an oeuvre faster than I can switch channels on the TV. They are the ones who say such things as:

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"Sit down, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time I ate your hamster this morning."

Of artists and assholes

"Sit down, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time I ate your hamster this morning."Orson Scott Card doesn’t make a hill of beans’ worth of difference to me. I never read him until I was an adult (and haven’t read Ender’s Game), I was underwhelmed with the Alvin Maker series, and aside from his strong views on homosexuality, he has some other truly whacko ideas that also thoroughly and completely offend my libertarian sensibilities.

I weighed in on the controversy over his short story “Hamlet’s Father” because I can’t stand it when people rant about books they haven’t read. That is intellectually dishonest, and the people I saw doing this promote themselves as intellectually honest. Sorry, nope. Get off your fucking high horse and read the fucking book, then come back and talk to me.

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Magdalene and Publisher’s Weekly

For an author, a Publisher’s Weekly starred review is one of the holy grails of reviews. It’s one of those things that, for a writer, is right up there with The Call (“Hi, Mojo. I want to offer you a contract for your book.”). I’ve had pretty close brushes with getting The Call, which (three times, to be precise) ended up to be “I love this book and I want to buy it, but I can’t because of Freak Things 1, 2, and/or 3.” What I have never dared aspire to (especially once I started down the self-pub path) is a review in Publisher’s Weekly at all, much less a starred one. But then Tuesday, this happened:

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Dunham 07: Chapter Seven



March, 1780
In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean

From the periphery of her dreams, Celia felt the bed depress beneath her, and though it could not possibly have been Dindi, Celia cast the irregularity of it to the back of her sleep-induced haze and remained settled in the darkness of slumber.

She should not have, she discovered, when her eyes popped open at the harsh pressure of a stranger’s lips upon her own. Her heart lodged in her throat and her sudden fear made her stomach lurch—

Ice blue eyes twinkled in the moonlight piercing through the darkness.

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Dunham 06: Chapter Six


March, 1780
In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean

The morning sun shone bright on Celia’s face. Below her, on the main deck, activity was lazy and, for the most part, curtailed, the crew engaged in menial tasks that nevertheless must be done. Two of the women aboard were mending sails and rope. Two more were in the galley baking the day’s bread. Another was with the men who sat along the rails fishing. Yet another was aloft with Kit, keeping watch. Mary and Solomon were behind her at the communal secretary, Mary dictating correspondence to Celia’s moneylender concerning Celia’s accounts and holdings.

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