hi mark, Thank you for sharing this with us, I will definitely take a look on both the app and your book.
Mauricio On Jan 14, 2013, at 7:54 PM, "M. Taylor" <[email protected]> wrote: > Hello Everyone, > > I use a wonderfully VoiceOver accessible eBook creator called Storyist, on > my Mac. The developer has taken every consideration into account with > regard to blind and low vision users. > > The thing I like most is that Storyist, assuming that you have used heading > levels in your document, will generate a table of contents. If your > document does not have headings, you can add headings from within Storyist. > > > The direct URL for the Storyist website is > http://storyist.com > > Now for my shameless plug: > > I am delighted to let you know that my latest novel entitled "The Dream > Factory", has just been published. Just so you know, I write under the > pseudonym of Mark Marcus. > > The website for the book, which includes an audio reading sample, a preview > of the text, and purchasing options is located at: > http://candleshorepublishing.com/dreamfactory > > The book may be downloaded directly to any Apple device, the Kindle, or > purchased from Amazon.com in paperback form. > > The cost of the eBook version is $2.99 and the paperback version is $5.99. > > This book is intended for general audiences ages 17 and up. There is no > "adult" content. > > The following link will play a short audio introduction to the book: > http://candleshorepublishing.com/dreamfactory/bookdemo/DreamFactoryIntroComm > ercial.mp3 > > To go directly to the book in the iTunes Store, click the following link on > any computer or from within an Apple device:: > https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-dream-factory/id591504963?mt=11 > > After my signature, I will paste in the book preface and a short preview > chapter. > > > Thank you all for your support. > > Most Sincerely, > > Mark > > BOOK PREFACE: > Welcome to the Dream Factory, a warm, cozy, and extremely lovely place where > only the most visceral nightmares and pleasure-driven musings of its > residents are mercilessly extracted and sold for the pure enjoyment of > others. > > Step cautiously as you explore the dimly lighted, extremely narrow, and > virtually suffocating hallways as groans, screams, moans, and indefinable > exclamations of unnamed perpetrators, innocent bystanders, and unlikely > victims, escape from behind coffin lid doors, reach into the very depths of > your soul, lace icy cold fingers around the heart of your sanity and begin > to squeeze. > > In this, the second tale from the mind of Mark Marcus, we are taken on a > highly selective and undeniably insightful excursion into the unplumbed dark > regions of the human psyche as it tears itself apart separating and exposing > the raw untamed fury inside from the barely contained and seemingly unmarred > and untouched flawlessly veneered outside. > > This book will appeal to all those who have ever screamed themselves awake, > in the midnight hour, only to discover that the true nightmare, from which > there is no escape, has only just begun. > > BOOK PREVIEW: > CHAPTER NINE > > A: > What is your first name? > > P: > What? > > A: > I said, what is your first name? > > P: > What a silly question. You know my first name. > > (The discharge administrator looks at the woman seated in front of her, > sternly.) > > A: > I know I told you that nothing you say can or will be used against you but > if you don't answer my questions I cannot approve your release. Do you > understand? > > P (somewhat alarmed): > Yes. I understand. > > (The discharge administrator returns her gaze to the paperwork on the > table.) > > A: > So, let's start again. First name? > > (The woman seated across from the discharge administrator opens her mouth to > speak and then closes it slowly.) > > P: > I'm not sure. > > (Tears fill her eyes and she raises her hands to wipe them away.) > > A (not looking up): > That's okay. Just sit and think for a moment. It should come to you. If > not, we won't worry about it. > > (The patient is visibly relieved.) > > A: > Next question, age? > > P: > I'm thirty-seven, yes, I am thirty-seven years old. > > A: > Date of birth? > > P: > It's--it's in February. I can't remember. I think it's February 6 but I'm > not sure. > > A: > Favorite color? > > P: > I don't have one. At least, if I did, I don't anymore. > > A: > What is your last name? > > P: > Jax. My last name is Jax. > > A: > First name? > > P: > I don't know. > > A: > Where were you born? > > P: > Louisville, Kentucky. > > A: > What is good? > > P: > Pardon me? > > A: > I said, what is good? > > P (with a look of confusion): > I don't know how to answer that. I don't know what you mean. What is good? > Am I to give you a definition? > > A: > You may answer in any way you wish, Miss Jax, anyway at all. > > (The patient raises her head as if in some kind of unspoken defiance.) > > P: > Getting out of this place is good. Good is anything that doesn't have to do > with the Dream Factory. Is that an honest enough answer for you? > > (A slightly hysterical giggle escapes the patient, at this.) > > (The discharge administrator, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly, > continues.) > > A: > What is bad? > > P: > Bad is not being able to recall my own first name. Bad is realizing that > what feels like three years has only been three weeks. Bad is never wanting > to close my eyes, in order to sleep, again. That's bad. > > A (with no hesitation): > Marital status? > > P: > I'm, uh. I'm married, I think. I am married. > > (The discharge administrator looks up and stares at the woman seated across > from her, patiently.) > > P: > What? I'm married. Aren't I married? > > (The administrator returns her gaze to the paperwork.) > > A: > Children? > > P: > None. > > A: > First name? > > P: > I don't know, I still can't recall it, not yet. > > A: > Where were you-- > > P: > Wait. Am I married? Is this a dream? Oh god. Is this another dream? > > A: > This is not a dream. You are very much awake. > > P (with a touch of panic in her voice): > How do I know you're telling me the truth? Oh God. How can I tell? I > don't know what's going on. Why are you asking me these questions? > > (Lowering her head, she begins sobbing uncontrollably.) > > A: > Where were you born? > > P: > I was born in Louisville, Kentucky. > > A: > First name? > > P: > I don't know. I wish you'd stop asking me that. > > A: > Marital status? > > P: > I'm married. Wait, I'm, I'm a widow. My husband is dead. I'm a widow. > > A: > Date of husband's death? > > (The patient slowly gathers herself and looks at the discharge > administrator.) > > P: > Uh, he's been dead for a little while now. He died a month or so ago, > right? Yes, I'm a widow and my husband is dead. > > A: > Cause of death? > > P (speaking in a low voice that almost escapes the administrator, she > responds very slowly with): > I killed him. > > > -- > You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups > "MacVisionaries" group. > To post to this group, send email to [email protected]. > To unsubscribe from this group, send email to > [email protected]. > For more options, visit this group at > http://groups.google.com/group/macvisionaries?hl=en. > -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "MacVisionaries" group. To post to this group, send email to [email protected]. To unsubscribe from this group, send email to [email protected]. For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/macvisionaries?hl=en.
