ROW80: Do You Fear Your Dream?

Jenny Hansen over on Kait Nolan's ROW80 asked today: Do you fear your dream? To which I immediately thought:

Huh? Who said I was afraid? I never said that! Who have you been talking to? Unbelievable... 

Okay, okay, there might be a little truth to this... Humph, alright, a lot of truth to this. In fact, if I were to let you further into my brain, the inner dialogue would go something like this:

My dream?

If you're referring to that misty, elusive, crazy fantasy where I find myself agented and published, well then yes, I am afraid. 

Not just afraid, though, that would imply that there's some space in my mind where I'm slightly aware of the stupidity of the feeling. Petrified...yes that's more like it: Frozen in place, spine tingling, short breathed, hair raised, terror. 


Yep. That's me. For if I had any courage at all, I would have driven myself harder last year. I would have forced myself to revise my MS ten times more, would have sought aid from my CPs, would have sent my MS out to more than three agents. Especially when one of those three agents requested a full. What the hell is wrong with me? I should have sent it to 50. Why didn't I push myself, stretch at the seams, snap those threads that hold me tight?


 Jenny nailed it.


I'm afraid. For all the reasons she cited (and more):

1. What if I write the book and nobody buys it?
2. What if I write the book and everybody buys it…can I be that brilliant again?
3. What if I can’t meet the deadlines of a publishing contract?
4. Who would want to read what I have to say?
5. When I say what I have to say, they’ll know who I am.

Yes, yes and yes!

But the great thing about a new year is that with it comes a new chance. And it's never too late to change. I know, exciting, right? So what to declare? What amazing new feats will I be promising this time round? Pfftt....right. Oh, no, I'm not falling for it...not this time, buddy! Mr. New Year will not be suckering me into the glimmering labyrinth of promise. This time, I'm keeping it simple, foot forward with a pair of what Jenny refers to as "titanium panties" (though I probably need an entire titanium suit). I'm going to toughen up, and I'm going to claim what I've been wanting. No more waiting on the side lines wondering what 'could' be. So here's the list, short, and concise.

1. Exercise at least 3 days a week

2. Revise 15 pages minimum of current MS daily

Wow! I feel empowered already! Look out 2012!!

Nanowrimo or Bust!

Yay! November is National Novel Writing Month and I'm uber siked! Starting today I'm charging into some heavy research for my next WIP. It's going to be intense. With this story idea comes an overwhelming amount of background info--and of course, it's a subject I know very little about. Just enough to know I want this to be a part of the plot. If all goes as planned, it's gonna be sick!

So the rest of this month will be dedicated to my research and to getting my house in order, cause come November 1st, I'll be in a zone. Gotta meet that 50,000 word minimum on Nanowrimo. This will be my first year. Gosh, I love challenges.  How about it? Will you be joining in the writing madness? If you haven't heard of Nanowrimo, go ahead and click on the link, I dare you!

Also, I wanted to give thanks to Tia over at Depression Cookies for honoring me with the 'Lovely Blog Award!' She really brought a smile to my face. Tia and her mother, Angela, are authors of the novel  Depression Cookies. A must read:


"Depression Cookies is a coming of age story woven around the heart of family triumph. It is told from two distinct vantage points, middle-aged mother, Abby, and her teenage daughter, Krista."


Rules for accepting the Lovely Blog Award:
1. Thank and link to the person who nominates you
2. Pass this Award along to 15 recently discovered blogs and let them know about it! 


Cristina at Once Upon a Time...
Kimberly at Zook Book Nook
Claire at Crazy California Claire
Sonia at Story Treasury
Tracy at Words on Paper
Katy at Musings of an Aspiring Young Adult Author

Extraterrestrial Deer Legs? Really?

Have you ever heard a song and loved it so much that you played it on a constant loop, over and over, until it's so ingrained in your brain that you even hear it in your sleep? Yeah, me too. When Katy Perry's Teenage Dream released last year, E.T. was the song responsible for my liking her music. It was the first song of Katy Perry's that I downloaded. It complemented the MS I was writing at the time and the words had my imagination sparking like a firework (hehe)! Anyway, I only just came across the music video today, and all I can say is that I'm happy I didn't see her 'take' on the song before I formed my own opinion. Wow, talk about different! (In both awesome and not-so-awesome ways!) And I'm not sure why she keeps using Kayne West?? His lyrics are...well, you'll have to see for yourself. Just be aware that it does have some explicit content.  Here's what Katy P. had to say about the video:


"In the end of the world scenery, a human may not look like everything we'd imagine it to look like," Katy explained on her decision to cast albino model Shaun Ross. "[The ending is] almost kind of symbolic. It looks a bit like the beginining of time in the end of time. Like an Adam and Eve situation, like trying to start again in a post-apocalyptic world."




Without further ado:

Get More: Katy Perry, Music, More Music Videos

Here's the album version--so you can hear it without all the extras. (lol, try not to dwell on the spelling mistakes, if you can!)



So what do you think?

Campaign Challenge #1 Into the Light

Yay! The first Campaign Challenge is here! The rules: "Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, including a poem. Begin the story with the words, “The door swung open” These four words will be included in the word count.

If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional), use the same beginning words and end with the words: "the door swung shut." (also included in the word count)

For those who want an even greater challenge, make your story 200 words EXACTLY!"


Click here to enjoy fellow campaigner's awesome stories!

Into the Light

The door swung open. Stark white burned into the darkness; so stunning I couldn't raise my eyes to meet it. 

What trickery was this? 

At first unsure, I waited. 

Yet the door remained open.

I crawled blindly toward it, the cruel ground biting at my knees. Cloying mist, the sweetness of which stuck to the very surface of my teeth, filled my oppressive tomb. Black laced my legs and my arms, slithering over my skin, drawing me back, summoning me into the shadows. The embrace so seductive that for a brief moment I forgot myself…forgot the battle…forgot my way…

Stay

My name played across the air, whispered against my ears, and I hesitated. The moment fleeting as that pause between life and death. So insignificant, yet lavish. Unaffordable.

I sank lower, and with that shift the illusion shattered. It was my panicked soul that lurched me forward, nails finding purchase against crevice. How long before the light abandoned me? If only I could walk! I clawed harder, desperation stabbing deep.

Finally at the brink, I stretched into the light, and my fingers glowed clean. Screaming erupted, furious and hot at my back, I crossed the threshold and the door swung shut.  

Out With the Old, in With the New

Swim season is officially over. At times I thought we weren't going to make it to the end, but we held fast and trudged our way through. Above is a pic of my kiddos at their award party. My eight year old received a Coach's Choice award for 'Most Improved Swimmer' and a neat towel embroidered with her name, a dolphin, and 'State Swimmer'.  It was a proud moment! But whew, what a grueling sport! I NEVER want to go through that again, and the kids feel the same way. You can read about our swimming adventures here and here, if you like. So, with lazy summer drawing to a close and school back in session, I'm thinking I need to make some drastic changes around here.

I have to admit that all summer long I've had this disjointed feeling. Like I'm floating around with no real sense of purpose, unable to get any one thing done. Sort of like when you go to the grocery store without a list. Your intention is to purchase milk and bread, but the second you enter the store you're overwhelmed and distracted by the bright shiny things lining the aisles. And then you end up walking out with beer and gum. It isn't until your hubby goes to make a sandwich later and can't find any bread that you realize you didn't actually accomplish what you'd set out do.

Well that's my life as a writer. I have a million and one things to do and I'm so completely overwhelmed that I can't begin to tackle the load.

Lately I've noticed some of my awesome blogging pals making lists, and then implementing a plan to get it done. I need that! From past experience, I know that I get more done with a list, and I perform better whilst under the gun.

I think it might be best if I tackle one thing at a time--don't want to get so frustrated that I quit before I get started. My most pressing project right now is polishing BOUND (my MS) to the point I'm content enough to set it free. I know I'll never actually be happy, there's always something that can be improved upon--but I am willing to settle on content. So my deadline is 2 weeks, people! Two weeks to get my a** in gear and I'm hoping you all will hold me accountable! See? I wrote it here, now I have to stick to it, no excuses, period.

Also, on a fun note, Prerna Pickett over at The Sands of Writing has honored me with a few awards. I sure do love awards! Prerna describes herself as a "little Indian woman who thinks of herself as a girl"--see how cute she is? She's survived a crazy monkey attack, writes YA and is the coolest chick! If you haven't already met her, you should head over to her blog asap!

Thank you, Prerna!!!

So the deal here is that I'm supposed to share seven things about myself and then pass these awards to five more bloggy friends. Five? Shah, right!

1) Unfortunately I don't have anything near as cool as a monkey attack to reveal, and I certainly don't hang with movie stars--although I did work with Kirstie Alley's niece while I was in college. Does that count? Kirstie used to come into the restaurant and have her niece wait on her. Hmmm, yeah, not as cool as Leonardo DiCaprio.

2) In a way I'm like Rumpelstiltskin (but don't worry, I don't want your first born, my four are plenty)-- the only person in the world with my name at the moment. (hence the alias)

3) When I was fourteen I crashed out in a youth hostile in Paris with some girl I'd never met before. (I got the top bunk--I rock) My parents sure were trusting, I don't even let my kids play up the street if I can't see them, let alone go to another country without me.

4) Ever since I was little, I've always checked my shoes and the bed for spiders and other little critters before using them. My hubby thinks this is weird. But I think he's the weird one! Who wants to sleep with uninvited guests?

5) I hate mayonnaise, ketchup, and a good many other condiments, now that I think about it.

6) I'm a total klutz. I tripped over a divot in my front yard and actually had to have my ankle scoped as a result. True story!

7) Come on! This is sooo freaking hard! One more, one more...ugh...well, growing up, I wanted to be a vet, a doctor or a scientist--I hated writing with a passion and would have rather shaved my head than come up with a term paper.

Wow! I had to seriously dig deep for those random factoids. Now then, the question of who to pass these awards on to. This part has me completely stumped. How do you pick only five when you have scores of people you think are deserving. I don't want to say "Feel free to take the award" because, let's face it, no one ever does.

I want you to have these awards, no, don't look over your shoulder, I'm talking to YOU! If you've made it to the bottom of this post, you are sweet and oh so deserving of them, (and probably a few Excederin to boot). So here's my own 'Lindy Juiced Up Rules' and you Must follow them (please).

1. Copy and paste the awards onto your blog post
2. Jot down seven ridiculous things about yourself--come on, we all want to know more about you!
3. Pass on the awards to your deserving friends!

I'll be coming by to check-- and you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings would you?

Don't you feel silly when...

This morning my hubby was sorting his pills into one of those Monday thru Friday pill boxes with the help of our four y/o. With tiny fingers she placed the last of the multivitamins into Sunday and then held out her hand for more.
"Sorry honey, I have to do these myself," he told her, carefully dropping his blood pressure meds across the slotted week.
"Ohhh." She sighed.
Her disappointed expression had me asking "why" on her behalf.
Apparently the vitamin D pills look identical to the blood pressure pills. It's easy to see why he didn't want any mistakes.

In a weird way, this brought to mind a time I was applying makeup. As usual I felt around my makeup bag for foundation, and then mascara. After which, I found my retractable blush brush (all with my eyes still on my reflection, tweaking my work--it takes a lot of effort these days), pulled off the lid, twisted it open and swiped it across my cheek. Only it wasn't my blush brush after all, it was my lipstick. I about died laughing. Serves me right for not paying closer attention. In my defense, though, you should know that the lipstick and brush are about the same size, housed in identical gold cases.









      See the cheeks? That was me, only it was one cheek-- streaked, like a die hard fan at a football game.                                                                    





                                                         (BTW, this is some random person-not me)


                                                                                 

Yikes! Mixing up heart meds, and makeup, isn't good. Mixing up anything isn't good. This couldn't be more true than with writing. (Good golly, I actually have a point)

I'm the worst at this. Forgetting to double check, to make sure I've chosen the 'write' word . Use the wrong word, and the sentence becomes incomprehensible, or worse yet, changes meaning altogether.

For example:

The writer poured over his rewrite.

You make my heart beet.

I don't have thyme to stay for dinner.

Weak examples, but I'm sure hope you get the idea. I've heard writers, agents, and editors discussing this at great length, driving home the importance of using the correct word.  All I have to say is: Hear, hear!

**I posted this without asking if anyone else has any other examples. What are your red flag words that trip you up and make you think twice?

This Message Will Self Destruct In........

                                                                               oh, wait...never.

Recently I discovered something about Twitter that took me by surprise. It isn't that my tweets can be found all over the internet, I realized that a few months back--hence my infrequent activity on there lately. No, this discovery is even more unsettling. At least, for me, anyway.

What would you do if you found out every single comment you've made on Twitter (not including DM's) is going to be gathered and archived, available for public consumption within six months of your hitting the send button. Your cute little blurb about what you're eating for dinner tonight and how you hope the neighbors don't set off their annoying car alarm at 3 in the morning, will be preserved till the end of time. Remaining intact and glossy, long after we're all dead and buried.

Would you think twice before sending out random crap with your name stamped all over it? I know I do! Who's going to see this stuff? My kids? My grandkids? What will they think of my views on today's fashion and the latest great novel. Worse yet, how would they view me if I were to say something rotten about another writer or family member? (Not that I ever, ever would!) Or anyone, for that matter. Does it make any difference?

I suppose it only counts if you care about the footprint you leave behind. No, not the carbon kind, I'm referring to the one that reflects you and who you are as a person. Your contributions, your salt, if you will. What are you made of?

The fact that Twitter has donated the entire archive of public tweets to The Library of Congress has me quaking in my boots. There's this new pressure to make every tweet meaningful. Wait, no, every tweet must be profound! Earth shattering! My ancestors will look back and think, by George, that girl was the very definition of genius! See the great stock we come from? Pffttt.....

Since last year, our tweets have been harvested for preservation and research by the Library of Congress. So not only are they safeguarding all our coy 140 letter bites, they are using them for studies. And why, you may ask, my brilliant minded readers. Well, because we're making history, of course. Honestly, I can't fault the logic here. Think of all the chatter that came about after Senator Wieners embarrassing escapades were uncovered (pun intended). Oh, can you imagine how he feels knowing that scandalous mis-tweet is now part and parcel with billions of tweets, including, Brittany Spears updates and Obama plugs. Oh, hold on, I forgot, he deleted it, right? But is it really gone? Or is it sitting embedded somewhere in cyber space, waiting to upload to the Library of Congress for the world to see? I really can't speak on that, I don't know. (I'll have to do some investigating.)

And what about the tweets surrounding Osama bin Laden's death, and what about the upcoming presidential election. This is history in action. Pretty exciting, important stuff, huh! So, I suppose the moral of my post today is this: when putting yourself out there for the world to see, think twice, and then once more before hitting send--don't get caught with your pants down!

For further reading, go to the Source

What's Going On Around Here?

This week I have been enjoying WriteOnCon from the comfort of home. (Sometimes in pajamas, yes.) If you're a writer, you really need to check it out, I'm talking complete GENIUS! The creative minds that put this together ought to be showered with American Beauty roses & yumdelish Godiva chocolate--in colossal downpours!

As I'm relatively new to this whole writing gig, this is my very first conference. Saying I LOVE IT would be an understatement. I find myself hanging on every word, and stowing away gobs of incredibly useful information. I've even stepped out of the shadows to leave a comment or two--complete with spelling errors.  It isn't lost on me that leaving permanent dialogue around the blogosphere at 2am is not the best of ideas. And for anyone (but writers, especially), spelling mistakes that can't be corrected, are beyond painful. Sigh...

Anyway, back to the conference. Because I have absolutely adored my time reading and watching and learning this week, I have come up with a fool proof plan to get my butt to the next SCBWI or any other writing conference within a hundred mile radius. Little did I know I could be so diabolical, moihahaha (yeah, that would be my evil laugh).

And the idea you ask? Well, here it is: I'll tell my hubby it will be like a second honeymoon. And don't we deserve some alone time? We'll be away from the kids, staying in a hotel. Sure they'll be others around, like a few hundred people actually, but what does that matter? Sans kids, excitement, I won't have to cook, and best of all--I'll get to actually meet some of the folks in this field that I look up to. Whatd'ya think?

Definitely a winner, right?!?

I'll scamper around pitching ideas in elevators, and he can hold my hand. What a lucky guy!

No, but seriously, Writeoncon has whet my appetite for more.

I want, I want... (pouting helps, maybe some tears) --I'll keep you apprised of any news on this front.

Besides chilling with the Awesomeness, I'm thrilled to say that I just brought on a new reader. Armed with chocolate (how many deals have been brokered with this tasty treat, I wonder) I called her up and asked if she was interested. She jumped at the offer, and even told me that the chocolate isn't necessary, she's been wanting to read my work for forever. Gasp! Who turns down chocolate? It makes me wonder. Perhaps she's an alien! I mean, seriously, she simply cannot be human. But she is totally fabulous, so I'll try not to judge.

I've also come to terms with the third novel in the Lillian Riece series. I've finally put some order to the chaos in my mind. I had a seriously grueling pow wow with my assistant this morning. Sitting on my bedroom floor, folding mounds of laundry while basically having a one sided conversation with my eight-year-old. She'd thrown out some crazy ideas and I'd nodded, pointing out any redeeming qualities in her thought process, and then following it up with 'What about x, y and z'?


I'm not sure what I'd do without my little assistant.  I've also read both Lillian Riece novels to her (minus the age inappropriate details and language). Out of the blue, today she told me that the characters are very much alive for her--which I'd suspected months ago when she began frequently comparing how my MC (Lillian) would react to events happening in my daughter's everyday life. The characters have always been alive in my mind, to hear someone else say it is sort of mind blowing. WIN!

Now I'm off to WriteOnCon, where, incidentally, I hope to see you. And if any of my dear blogging buddies have ideas on how to bring my hubby on board with my uber secret conference plot, please do share!

She Writes "We Love New Novelists" Competition

Okay, folks! Just discovered this competition ends today tomorrow (8/16) at midnight! I myself am passing this one up, but if you were looking to compete, you best get on over there! Why? 


Because if you win, heavy hitters, Sally Wofford Girand, with Brick House Literary Agents, Eleanor Jackson, with Markson Thoma Literary Agency, and Sara Weiss, with Grand Central Publishing, are all on board to offer advice and coverage of your work!


Click on the link in the sidebar to go to their page. Good luck, everyone!

State and Bound

So I'm back! Somehow I managed to 'outwit, outplay and outlast' the insane weekend. On the road with four kids aged 11 to 2, I received a lot of sympathetic stares and comments. I'm not sure if this made me feel better or worse. Did it look like I didn't have it under control? Maybe they didn't get the memo that I believe I can do anything I set my mind to.  Okay, I am a little delusional at times, but I challenge anyone to beat me at Survivor-unless they make me eat bugs-that's a deal breaker!

Alas, I digress...back to the weekend...

Although it felt differently, no one actually suffered from heatstroke.  No one was kidnapped, and we even survived the absurd Dallas traffic on our way to Waco. State turned out to be a positive experience for the kids, even the two year old had a rockin' time, dancing barefoot to tunes that were jammin' during the fireworks show. The only downer was my hubby's absence, but we called him in Vegas and sent him lots of pics, so it was almost like he was there with us. Besides, if he'd joined us we couldn't have purchased all those light-up play swords--he's a rather practical fellow.









Also, on a happy note, I received a lovely email from Deana on Friday informing me that I won first place in the '200 word limit contest'. What does this mean? Well, only that stupendous agent, Kathleen Rushall of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency will very sweetly critique my query and the first 30 pages of Bound.

I'm so excited that I feel like Christmas came early this year.  Bound is the first novel in my Lillian Riece series and actually stems from my Bittersweet series (still in rewrites).  Bound stands alone, but most of the characters have a past and IMO are well developed because of this. As I've never felt ready to query Bound, this is forcing me out of my shell.

Which is a good thing!

Week 4: Gearin' Up To Get An Agent

So this is it, the last week of Gearin' Up To Get An Agent Blogorama aka GUTGAA. This week we were asked to post the first 200 words of our MS. Before I do so, I would like to give a big fat thanks to Deana, the ingenious mastermind behind all of this. It is only because of her diligence and hard work that this came together so beautifully. I would also like to thank the judges and peers who have participated! I have had the privilege to meet many fabulous, incredibly talented writers over the last three weeks, and I've loved every minute of it! I hope we stay in touch, urging each other on in our creative endeavors.

And now, onto my little offering this week.

A very short excerpt, the first 200 words of my YA Fantasy/Paranormal novel, Bound:

I see the note right away, perched on top of an avalanche of textbooks and binders that threaten to tumble out when I open the door. Delivered in the same fashion as the ones before it—slipped through the thin grate at the top of my locker. Also like the others, the cruel words inside fail to match its unassuming pink envelope.

Do us all a favor and kill yourself.

The scent of Abby’s favorite perfume rolls off the page, thick and sweet, nauseating.  This time my old ‘friend’ hasn’t bothered to disguise her handwriting. I look down the hall to find her staring my way, face bright with anticipation. She’s at her locker with her latest best friend, Maddy, by her side. When our eyes make contact she grins, and then leans to whisper in Maddy’s ear. Maddy quickly looks in my direction, expressionless. 

I notice they're dressed for tonight's game. With that same vindictive smile in place, Abby fiddles with the captain's pin she has hooked to her red and grey cheerleading uniform. The same pin I used to wear till I returned it to Coach last October, walking away from that part of my life.

     

What's your poison?

I hope everyone is well rested and ready for the week ahead. After being completely spoiled, with a parade of presents from my children/hubby (and I mean this literally, they were sooo cute), a massive b-day cake, and lunch out at my fav. restaurant, I myself am coming off a razzle dazzle fabtabulous weekend! I'm left full of spunk and vigor and am looking forward to a day of swim lessons, laundry  and rewrites. Okay...mostly rewrites. A load of laundry may get squeezed in there somewhere-but I'm not promising anything. I bet you also have a huge list of things to get done, so with a busy day ahead for all of us, I'm going to make this snappy!

I'm sure you've noticed by now that I have a thing for words. My favorite hobby is to create them, but I also have my conventional favorites. Lately I've been running with 'Swanky'. For my own amusement I've been trying to work it into conversations every chance I get. Not easy to do with such a dated word. "Yeah, I had a swanky good time last night at the grocery store" or "For the swank of me I can't figure out how to use this microwave." I make no sense, but who cares?  I lurv it! Really, I mean don't you, too? Saaa-wankie. I don't know, there's something about the way it rolls off my tongue. It's super sassy, 1950's gangster style, shoot em up, Marilyn Monroe-ie sounding. Okay, maybe I'm a little crazy. Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this, anyone else have favorite words?

Agent Contest

Whoa! Two posts in one day? Things are getting crazy around here! But you're going to thank me for this! Because I'm back to tell you about a cool contest hosted by Yatopia The TeenLit Haven, involving highly esteemed Vickie Motter-agent extraordinaire with Andrea Hurst & Associates Literary Management. Are you shopping for an agent? Well it can't get any easier than this! All you have to do is come up with a three sentence pitch. There are only 50 spots available and it's filling up fast--so set those fingers in motion and get over there!

Yatopia The TeenLit Haven

Week 2: Story Chain

Hey everyone! 'Gearin' Up to Get an Agent Blogorama' is now on its second week. It's not too late to join in the rest of the festivities, just click the logo on the sidebar if you're interested.

This time we're working on a story chain. I had a lot of fun with this and it has been a pleasure to work in collaboration with such talented writers! For the post before mine, click here. Or click here to start at the very beginning of our tale!

The holly bush in Dio’s front yard broke her clumsy fall from the sky. Still, not too shabby for her first time in the air. She scrambled up from the bush; plucking sharp leaves from her dress and hair. Her dress was wrecked, torn and covered in grease and soot from the motorcycle earlier.

But the dress would have to wait; she had more important things to contend with. She marched into the house, straight to the study. It took her all of a second to realize the book wasn’t there. She quickly scanned the bookshelf again, searching for its purple cover, her fingers tapping the empty space where she could have sworn she’d left it.

Without the book how would she ever get out of this mess? She sagged to the floor. It was over. Hopeless.

Then an idea came to her. One she quickly shooed away. She wouldn’t, couldn’t do what she was thinking. Her father had died getting her out of there--poisoned from the toxin of a fairy bite. He was the one who’d saved her from the creatures in Nefnia Forest, from the makers of the Wish Granter book.   She couldn’t go back, asking for help, not now, especially with the book she’d stolen from them having gone missing.

“They’ll surely kill me,” Dio whispered into the empty room. She shook her head.  She had to try. This time would be different; she was stronger now, she’d arm herself with salt, she’d use her light. They really hate the light.

And then they’d be forced to do her bidding, they would have to help her find her parents.

Dio slowly came to her feet and headed upstairs to change. She picked her outfit carefully. A t-shirt and shorts, sneakers. Light and unrestrictive, the perfect attire for the task ahead. She knew once she hit the sandy bank at the edge the forest, she’d be running as if her life depended on it. 

My assignment was: With the knowledge the MC has gained (see last post) help her make a plan to get what she wants. Your words are: bank, t-shirt, salt. 

Click here to continue the story! 

I Just Had To Ask...

Gearing Up For An Agent, most graciously hosted by Deana Barnhart,  is now underway!  I hope everyone has fun! I'm super excited and totally nervous. Sort of like that feeling you get your first day at a new school, like you're afraid you're going to trip on air and fall flat on your face in front of everyone.

But I'm safe from all that embarrassment because Deana, in all her wisdom, has made our first objective pretty simple. All we have to do is to ask a question. Really, how hard can that be for someone like me? I'm a nosy, highly opinionated individual with more to say than the day has hours. However, as is my luck, every time I searched for a good meaningful question, my head only echoed back my to do list: laundry, vacuum, mow the cursed yard. Huh. Not what I want to hear right now! (or ever)

But then I remembered a post I'd read by our dear Jane Friedman, entitled "5 Things More Important Than Talent." Number 2 on Jane's list is community, where she stresses the importance of a support network. Which got me thinking (hopefully by the end of this, my tedious to do list will be buried deep under all these more important thoughts, never to surface again) about my own support network. While I have friends and family who are encouraging, I get more of that same echo when I need serious writing help. Sure there's a smorgasbord of terrific agents and other literary professionals who kindly post great tips online, but by their very nature they are forced to be more generalized.

So, my question is this: What is the best way to reach out to other like minded writers? Both to help, and receive help?

Always the last to know

So here's a little update on Bound. Last I left it, I was getting ready to send it off to my readers. But then, surprise, surprise, I decided to edit it some more. And then revise. Rewrite. I think I came up for air at this point, but I can't be altogether sure on this. Back to editing.

Then I gave up and let it sit.

Again.

I swear I've revised that book at least thirty times.  And then I got something in the mail last week that knocked Bound on its ear.  A report card of sorts, sent by an agent who'd rated the first chapter of Bound.

I was given a lot to think about, things that I hadn't considered.  And then things I'd already caught and corrected and changed a billion times because, of course, I'd sent the MS in around 4 months ago and so my original writing has changed a hundred fold.

One thing the ever so kind agent pointed out is that I need to watch my backstory. Agreed! You won't hear any arguing there!  I even see it in Grace Ruined, uggg, gotta fix that and some other spelling & grammatical errors.  Anyway, I digress.

The point is, because of their feedback, I see some real issues that need work. The setting for example.
 I don't provide enough of a backdrop. My characters, where the heck are they? In my opinion, who the hell cares.

Honestly, don't you just hate books filled with tons of flowery scenes describing in great detail some lush green field with dandelions and fluttering birds, scampering wood mice making their way into a desolate crinkled tree stump. Yuck! Are you kidding me? As a reader I want to tell the author to stop wasting my time. Get on with the story already.  But there is a need for some kind of placement, to ground the characters, to offer a sense of balance. So I agree with them on this issue. What's really funny, is that I'd already changed the beginning scene, and now the reader knows exactly where my characters are. I make it known in the first chapter--without the extra unnecessary crap. And it only took me about 3 months to figure out what someone else knew at first glance.

Us writers are always the last to know. Can't see the forest for the trees and all that. Why is it so easy to edit other people but then glaze out when trying to recognize our own mistakes? Everyday I find myself mentally correcting not only other bloggers, but other professional writing sites, and editors and agents, alike. Everyone else's spelling or grammatical errors blink at me in vivid shades of crimson with the shrill sound of sirens going off in the background--while my blatant mistakes slip by undetected.

I think I may need another writer friend.  Someone who is willing to point out the obvious and I would do the same for them. Any takers out there?? :P

Whoops! There I go again, heading in another direction. Back to the report card. So I guess, other than those two problems, I need only do some small tweaking. Overall, I fall somewhere between "Shows promise" and "Very Strong Potential."

So it's back to the drawing board. Because for me, small tweaking is never actually "small". I'm rewriting Lillian (my protagonist), changing her completely. This means I'll probably be on here once a week instead of most days. But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, just slowing down a little so I can get this MS kicked out once and for all.

And when I'm all done, I promise, you'll be the first to know!

I'm having one of those days...

...You know the kind-where it's almost time for dinner and you still haven't made it to the shower. I'm not even sure how it happened, it's not like I've gotten a whole bunch accomplished. In fact, I've gotten nothing done. Not one thing.

Oh wait, I did do one thing, I suppose, I read several blogs.  I'm obsessed, I swear I am! Speaking of which, whilst perusing I bummed an invite to pinterest from Whitney, author of  A Diary of a Preppy Mom. (Thanks, LOVE that pinterest!) So now I'm obsessed along with Whitney over all those ascetically pleasing pics!

I also entered some divine, but popular, giveaways, though now I can't remember where or what anymore-golly I hate that!

While out and about I also made a point of reading Mary's blog over at Kidlit.com. I pay her a visit everyday, so this isn't all that unusual. Her blog is sort of like a writer's bible.

Anyway, today Mary was offering a handful of super lucky writers the opportunity to have their beloved work torn apart-right there on her blog.  All we have to do is send in the first 500 words of our manuscript. Doesn't that sound like fun? Apparently, if the beginning of your book is crappy enough, you win! Mary will select your work out of hundreds of other hopefuls to analyze in front of the writer world! Okay, so I'm totally excited about this!

We all are! You should have seen the glowing comments! It was like Christmas in June. Right now her readers are digging through their cluttered desks in search of that one manuscript that they couldn't quite get off the ground, and the most likely culprit was the blasted off- kilter hook in the first few paragraphs.

Just like anyone who is trying to hone their craft, we'll do anything to get there--even endure extreme bouts of criticism in front of our peers. So guess what I'm doing after my shower? You got it! I'm thinking that unlike those giveaways I entered earlier, I ought to have a great shot at this! Wish me luck!!!!

A Story is Born

Is it just me, or has tuning into the news lately become a frightening venture in and of itself?  Forget the magical stuff that makes up fantasy, it's the events happening in our world today that fuels my nightmares. Werewolves, zombies, and vampires suddenly seem like cuddly pets you might turn to for solace in the wee morning hours--anything to get away from the reality of things.

It probably doesn't help that I drift off to sleep with the TV on,  Glen Beck's voice in the background, warning us of where were heading.  And simply put, it doesn't look good.  Basically, we're all screwed.  George Soros has become a thorn in America's side, and a disrupter of a good nights rest.  I shouldn't make light of what is really happening, I don't mean to.  I guess this is just my defense mechanism kicking in--when things get stressful, I tend to start cracking jokes.

But all kidding aside, for months now I've been watching on in horror as our beautiful nation falls to pieces around our ears.  The warnings and threats, wars, terror, sky rocketing gas prices, and rising food costs are only the beginning. It would seem, given the path we're on, things are bound to only get worse. And it doesn't matter who you are-democrat, republican, independent--we are all going to pay the price.  For better or worse, this is where we are united, we're in this together, my fellow Americans.  However, don't fear, we are made of sturdy stock, and we will move upward and onward.

So, this brings me to my latest idea. It's rather unorthodox-or at least, it's unorthodox for me, anyway. All of these news headlines and breaking stories  have been inundating my thoughts for quite some time. Those fragments of  information stewing and bubbling in this overactive brain of mine, growing bit by bit, to the point I can see the beginning of something exciting.  A possibility of a story, perhaps.  I thought it might be kind of fun to blog this new tale.  In doing this, I will be straying from the comfort of my usual genre, but I think this might be a good thing.

Tonight I will flesh it out, and hopefully by tomorrow I'll be ready to begin writing. Each day I will try to set aside half an hour to dedicate to our little project. Be warned: most of it will be crap!  But I'm slightly obsessive compulsive, so each day I'm sure there will be revisions.  It will be a work in progress, and so there should always be something going on. The title will be... Grace's Ruin  (until I think of something I like better) :)

See you tomorrow!  For now, I'm off to Sam's Club to stock up on canned goods...


Inspiring quote for this project:

The stern hand of fate has scourged us to an elevation where we can see the great everlasting things that matter for a nation; the great peaks of honour we had forgotten - duty and patriotism, clad in glittering white; the great pinnacle of sacrifice pointing like a rugged finger to heaven.  ~David Lloyd George

All for the Love of Writing

Today my intention was to blog so early that the birds still chirped out my window. But, alas, it wasn't to be so. I woke with this weird blurb on the left side of my vision. I'll admit, that made the drive to school rather interesting. Without the ability to focus, I had to 'use the force' to finagle my way along the well known six minute drive. I felt like a donkey in a coal mine, finding my way in the dark by memory alone.  The image of driving off the road kept flashing in my mind, me in my pajamas and flip flops trying to explain to a cop how I'd ended up with my gas guzzling Suburban in a ditch off the side of the road.  I'm not sure if a migraine is a legitimate excuse for a traffic accident-would I be eligible for a deferment?

I'm happy to say it didn't come to that. My two eldest safely made it to school, and I eventually made it home where I popped several pills and lied down to read the end of a novel I simply couldn't put down.  (Probably not smart to read fine print on a bright ipad while dealing with a migraine-but still that didn't stop me.) And so this leads me into my topic of the day.

Obsession. As defined by Dictionary.com: the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent 
idea, image, desire, etc."


A mighty big thanks to Dictionary.com for that highly applicable explanation for those of us who write for the love of writing. Not just the love, though. If you're anything like me, you're compelled, driven. The story is there, almost tangible, shimmering in the air. You can taste it when you breathe, feel it on your tongue, swallow it down and feel it warming every fiber of your being. It fills you to the brim, loading you down, drowning everything else out,  and then when you can't contain it any longer, certain you'll explode if you try, it flows out. Delicious, indelible letters on the page. Your writing, it haunts you, consuming your every thought and action, calling to you until you find yourself at the keyboard, yet again.

And this obsession is different from the ones in the past. LOTRO was great, spider solitaire somehow satisfying. But writing is altogether a different beast. On its own plane, in its own dimension. Writing is a place where you live and it's all your own. You make it your home, fill it with furniture and appliances. There are no compromises. You can paint the walls to your liking and throw your underwear on the floor (though that may prove for some sloppy writing).

Mundane chores fill you with resentment.  Every second away from writing is only spent yearning to get back. You find your eyes anxiously drawn to the clock on your phone at least ten times as you wait in the grocery line checkout. Could the cashier be any slower, do they have to chat with everyone in line like they're best friends? You bite your tongue against the onslaught of impatient verbiage begging to make itself known. Reminding yourself that you're not that kind of person, you don't like to tear others down, that they are simply trying to do a good job. At the same time you barely resist the urge to shove them out of the way and do the job for them. Two words: Self Check.

So, today I send out an accolade to all those writers who despite the every day obstacles that get in the way, still manage to tune into their creativity and get those words on the page. For without them, the world would be an awfully dull place.

The rantings of a lone writer (or more like, a writer wannabe) :)

Welcome to my very first blog! You may not know me, and I may not know you, but regardless of this I'm just going to put something out there, get it off my chest and all that  (shhhh...this is the part where the room falls silent and I peer furtively behind to make sure no one is reading over my shoulder). You see, the truth is:   ...I don't know what I'm doing!
Whew! I said it. You may be scared now, but I sure do feel better.
In the spirit of starting fresh(which I am) with this brand spanking new blog, I'm going to admit some truths.
The biggest truth of all is that I'm new to this writing stuff. Another truth, though not astonishing, but still equally frustrating, is that it isn't the art of creating a novel that has me stuck, it's the part that comes afterwards. Finding an agent. Writing a synopsis, a query letter--and not just any synopsis and query letter, but the best ever invented, the most astounding, ground shaking, brilliant synopsis and query letter my lucky future agent will ever have the privilege of reading. The words should pop off the page and smack 'em in the face, they'll be lining up in droves and begging me for my time.
If only it were that simple, if only those ingenious, enlightened words weren't quite so elusive.
It seems no matter how many times I try to condense those 90 some odd thousand words into something like 250 words, I bomb. The plot is too thick, I say, the characters too rich. How could I possibly narrow it down enough without neglecting certain critical concepts. It's ridiculous, I know. After all, I've heard it said that if an author can't summarize their novel into one well written sentence, then they don't have any business writing in the first place.
Ahem. Could someone kindly point me in the direction of the exit?
Just kidding! Oh, no, don't be fooled, I'm not that kind of gal. I happen to like obstacles and greatly enjoy rejection. So here I am.  Tah dah!!!