By the close of this week I will have finished the edits on Tapped. I started this book two years ago for Camp NaNoWriMo and sent its second draft to a wonderful editor by the name of Gabriel Fitzpatrick. (Authors, if you ever see him advertising to do some work, take him up on it. He’s professional and he’ll infuse you with the belief that your book can conquer the world when it’s finished.)
My original deadline for completing these edits was the beginning of May, but I was still in school and things got a trifle crazy and an avocado bested me during a salad-making contest.
Yes, I’m talking about stabbing myself in the hand. And I’ll say it again — I really do know how to core an avocado. I was just in a hurry and wasn’t paying enough attention.
Still, the damage done to my hand in that escapade was extensive enough to make typing (a core element of the writing craft) really frigging hard, thus throwing my deadline back even further.
But I am not one to go quietly into the night.
Which is why the draft will be complete this week.
I’m not sure if I’m the only one who has this problem but sometimes, particularly in the last week of a novel, I want to finish so badly that I actually have to coach myself to slow down. So this week is all about taking my time to get it right. These last two chapters include a space battle where the ship we’ve been traveling on for several hundred pages now finally gets to show us what she’s capable of, and resolution moments for a couple of subplots.
And if I don’t get both of them right then the entire book is a wash.
So here’s me, rolling up my sleeves and preparing for the week-long plunge into all things “climax” and “conclusion.” I’ll see you all on the other side.
It knew Relo was there. It had known the moment he’d walked into the cave, its heightened sense of taste and smell had alerted the beast to this trespass. But Relo had anticipated this. In thirty-four years as a Tapped Acolyte he’d hunted every species Nellis had to offer. He knew each weakness, each strength, and when Nellissian people were threatened, he had no qualms about exploiting such knowledge. This, after all, was not a matter of fair play but a matter of survival.
Me: Relo … huh … that’s an interesting name. Sounds kinda like “reload” which makes sense given the whole science fiction element, right?
Cat: meow?
Me: (Because I really am crazy enough to discuss these things with my pets) I know, I know. Relo … what? Relo Bomani? Sounds exotic and … you know … they’re on an alien planet and all … OK. So … the hero’s name is Relo Bomani.
…. approximately 700 words later ….
“I see I missed the action,” Seach said. Most of his face was still in shadow but Relo knew the man was frowning.
“It was a surprisingly fast battle.” Relo looked down at his thigh and tried to determine how bad the wound was.
Seach walked to him, fixing the light on his wounded leg. “But not uneventful. Sit still.”
“Actually, I think I cut myself on its tail when I tried to get out of the way.” Relo took the phosphorous light from Seach and angled it so his friend could work.
Seach snorted his amusement as he crouched beside him, slipping the pack off his shoulder as he did so. “Serves you right for coming out here alone. I swear, sometimes I think you are trying to die.”
Me: … huh … I like this Seach fellow.
Cat: (just purrs cause by now he’s laying on my feet)
… 3000 words later …
Me: Ugh. I hate this book. I do not like the way it’s going. Relo is too … just too … strong. Not enough vulnerability in him. And he’s not funny.
Cat: (lots of meowing cause he’s crazy enough to think I can understand him)
Me: I know! Seach is so much more interesting. He makes me laugh. And he’s not afraid to fail. I totally love him.
Cat: (stops meowing because I’m scratching under his chin and he’s in kitty heaven)
Me: But you know, I’m not liking much of this plot either. Let’s change everything. We’ll make Seach the hero. Keep Jorry as the female lead. Relo can be the secondary.
Cat: (suddenly bops me on the hand because he’s had enough attention for one day but he’s too lazy to move out of hands reach)
… About a year later …
“You know Jorry won’t drink that,” said a familiar voice.
Seach relaxed and glanced at Lieutenant Cavil as they continued through the D-Fac. Her black hair was shaved close and he could see little spirals of dark curls pressed up against her scalp. She grinned at him, her teeth bright white against the backdrop of her ebony skin. Cavil was beautiful in that hard way that military officers could be. It was like all the training and battle she had seen managed to sharpen her appeal and for half a second he forgot the danger they were in.
“Lieutenant Cavil,” he said with a smile. In his peripheral view he saw Jo look up from her computer. “It’s been a while. Decided you were ready to tell me your first name?”
“It’s been two years and eight months,” Cavil said and laughed. “I thought you would have lost interest by now.”
“Lost interest in a beauty like you?” Seach clucked his tongue and winked at her. “Never.”
… So … Have I ever had a secondary character steal a book from me?
Yes. Very much so. I revamped all of Tapped to accommodate a new hero in Seach and I have never regretted it. He’s funny and vulnerable and he really made the story for me. He even counterbalances Jorry as the lead female character precisely because of those traits.
Hop over to some of my fellow authors to see if they’ve ever dealt with a scene-stealing secondary character before!
If I had spaceship shaped confetti I would totally be throwing it everywhere right now!
My first ever science fiction, Deviation, has been released by Double Dragon Publishing. For right now I only have the publisher’s purchase link but as soon as it becomes available on Amazon and Barnes&Noble I’ll be certain to shove those links up everywhere.
Look at the pretty, shiny cover!
See the pretty shiny blurby thingy! (OK, so this is the longer version. You can see the shorter version everywhere else.)
On the brink of a religious war between Makeem and Novo Femina, Celeocia Prosser’s struggle for gender equality leads her to Reesa Zimms; the one woman in all of history who can identify the first Mavirus victim. Believing the information surrounding this patient zero to be pivotal in the fight against the Makeem, Celeocia sets her sights on Reesa Zimms, also known as Caresse Zimmerman.
There’s just one problem; Reesa Zimms is a science fiction novelist who lived and died hundreds of years in the past.
Utilizing wormhole travel and antimatter discs, Celeocia sends her son Hedric and the crew of the Lothogy careening through time. When Hedric finds Reesa, the novelist is accompanied by her best friend Kate, who just happens to look like his recently murdered wife.
Stunned and reeling, Hedric abducts both women, bringing Reesa and Kate on a notsogentle ride into the future.
Time travel might be easier for Reesa to accept because Hedric Prosser, the High Priestess, and the very ship they’re traveling on, all belong in Reesa’s novels. Confused and pretty sure she’s going insane; Reesa tries to prepare her friend Kate for the very maledominated society they’ve been dumped into. When she finds herself abandoned by Hedric, Reesa must rely on Matthew Borden, the villain of her books, to rescue Kate and fight their way home.
Hear my squeal of delight to finally see this work out in the open!
No, seriously, Deviation and I have a rather long history. I started writing it in 2008 through Lazette Gifford’s Two Year Novel Course — which I highly recommend for anyone who has been toying with the idea of writing a novel but feels they don’t have the time.
I actually took the class, which started the first week of January so when I say I started writing it in 2008 I really mean I started writing it in 2008. Which means I’ve been working on/editing/shopping this book around to various publishers for six years now.
Six!
I could blame this on the fact that I was in school for three of those years, but the truth is that I was just nervous. This is my first science fiction ever and I wanted to at least try to get it right.
So … I did a lot of research. Granted, I deliberately ignored some of said research because … you know … FICTION … and I needed things to work with the story. But still, I did a LOT of research.
Mars in particular was fun but I’ll make a whole post dedicated to Mars and all the things I broke while trying to make the planet habitable.
Not today, though.
Today I’m throwing confetti and marveling at the artistic talents of my publisher and enjoying general revelry.
I promised I’d post my favorite scene from the upcoming novel Dead Magic so … here we go.
Once again, I’m not one of those people who likes spoilers … Unless I get invested in a character, then I have to know if they survive the book/story. No, really, I flip to the end of books and hunt for names just to make sure they’re still there. I won’t read the whole thing, I’ll just check if they still have dialog and then go back to reading like normal.
I know, I’m terrible.
Anyway, I won’t give any spoilers but I will post my favorite scene. I’ll give the barest amount of setup for this one — this scene happens early(ish) in the book and I cut it off before anything major can be revealed. Fans of Witch-Born will recognize the two characters (Dorian and Elsie). These two do play a major part in Dead Magic but as I’ve said before the book itself is more focused on Winslow Agoston and Valeda Quinlan.
Why do I love this scene in particular?
I think because it’s honest. Dead Magic takes place eight years after the ending of Witch-Born. Things have changed. Relationships have strained and while the love between Elsie and Dorian is still every bit as strong as in Witch-Born, all is not perfect.
Please note that this is an unedited version of the scene.
Dead Magic:
“Why would you promise that woman something you know you can’t give her?” Dorian half chased Elsie around the western perimeter of the ark, thoroughly annoyed that he’d been forced to hunt her down again.
“Who says I can’t give her what she wants?” Elsie kept a brisk pace, lithely avoiding the overgrowth of jungle around them. Her black hair was pinned up in a tight bun, making the exotic, angular curves of her face more prominent. If he hadn’t been suppressing the desire to strangle her Dorian might have given her a compliment.
“The Council says you can’t.” He had to catch himself on a fallen bit of tree when she abruptly stopped. The moist ground slid away from his left foot and he quickly found a better standing spot.
The ark was built precariously close to the edge of the ridge-line, its entire circumference taking up a four mile wide, three and a quarter mile long declivity in the mountain range. The egg-shaped monolith of iron and steel was far enough from any towns that it looked like a shadowed lump of hillside at a distance. Up close, however, it was big and bulky and looked quite impenetrable. Which, he thought with a frown, was the point.
Elsie turned to an iron ladder built into the side of the wall and prepared to climb. Dorian grabbed her elbow to stop her. There would be people wherever she was heading and they needed to do this conversation in private.
“You promised, Elsie.”
“No,” she said. “As I recall it, you are the one who promised silence, not me. I stood there like an idiot, trying to remind myself why I didn’t kill them all where they stood.”
“Elsie. Think of the hysteria that would happen if word got out.” Dorian moved closer to her, glancing at her gloved hand and preparing himself for the battle he’d just stepped into. “If Valeda Quinlan publishes the fact that Magic is dead, the Untalented will panic. There will be riots and mayhem and a lot of innocent lives will be lost.”
“Even the Witch-Born will panic, Dorian. Talented or not, all of Magnellum’s fate rests on the Warding Pillars. Panic is exactly how the people should be reacting.” Elsie scowled at him but didn’t move, still poised to climb the ladder. “The Wild is coming, Dorian. It’s coming and there’s very little we can do about it.”
“The Wild has been ‘coming’ for eight years now, Elsie!” Exasperated, he let go of her and shoved his fingers through his hair. “By Fates! I’ve been listening to you for eight long years. I’ve watched you build this … this …” He waved at the side of the ark in frustration, “this insanity using resources you shouldn’t have. Don’t try to deny it, either. Delgora was rich when you ascended to House Witch, but it wasn’t this rich. You’ve been spending more money than we’ve got, insistent that world is about to end, and for what?”
Elsie blinked up at him, her caramel eyes glimmering with an emotion he couldn’t recognize.
“The Warding Pillars haven’t failed, Elsie. There’s peace in Magnellum right now. You cannot overturn society on a whim.”
The beginning of this book was a little rough. I had a hard time understanding what was going on, which might have been done on purpose since the character didn’t know what was going on either. As a reader this was a trifle frustrating since I prefer to know just a little bit more than the character on the page. After having finished the book, however, I understood a bit better and can appreciate the way the beginning was crafted.
I’m not one for giving spoilers so I’m having to refrain quite a bit on what I say here. The magic system was glossed over a bit, but given that the main character had no idea how to use magic it doesn’t detract from the story. After I got the hang of what was going on I really enjoyed the characters and the story being told. There was a moment near the end where I got very uncomfortable due to the general nastiness of the antagonist in the book, but the author managed to yank the story away from the precipice just in time. (Though that rescue did come via magic and the author risked Deus Ex Machina in that regard, but given that the whole story was based on wizards and magic it did make some sense.)
But my favorite part was the end. I was more than satisfied with the way the story concluded and with that in mind would have to give this book four out of five stars. (Or whatever symbol floats your boat. On Goodreads and Amazon I’ll be using stars so I might as well carry that over here.)
Book Blurb:
Magic is an illusion. It doesn’t really exist. Or does it?
A horrible car accident destroys Dolores Reynard’s life. But instead of waking up in a hospital bed, she awakens in a teenager’s body. Soon, she discovers she is at the heart of the murderous mystery surrounding the death of Mona, the young girl whose body she occupies. Caught between an evil greater than she ever imagined and a wizard who heals her tattered heart, she is forced to play a dangerous game of intrigue in the hopes of finding a way to return to her previous life.
Will magic be her ally, or will it lead to her demise once and for all.
Although born in the United States, Annamaria Bazzi spent a great deal of her childhood in Sicily, Italy, in a town called Sciacca. Italian was the language spoken at home. Therefore, she had no problems when she found herself growing up in a strange country. Upon returning to the states, she promised herself she would speak without an accent. She attended Wayne State University in Detroit Michigan, where she obtained her Bachelor of Science in Computers with a minor in Spanish.
Annamaria spent twenty years programming systems for large corporations, creating innovative solution, and addressing customer problems. During those years, she raised four daughters and one husband. Annamaria lives in Richmond Virginia with her small family where she now dedicates a good part of her day writing.
As pointed out in my previous post, I made a stupid mistake with an avocado and managed to cut the nerves in two of my fingers. Given my chosen profession, this has been problematic.
While I can hand-write everything still fine (because I’m right-handed and all that), I cannot type with the speed and duration that I used to. The Doctor said it would be six weeks to three months before I started to feel anything in those fingers.
(Yes, apparently I was really, really aggressive with that stupid avocado. What can I say? I was hungry.)
The plans I had to start serializing Residual Haunting on June 1st obviously didn’t work out. I’ve decided instead to begin serialization in October. Which, let’s be honest, is likely a better choice given the theme of ghosts and what have you.
Editing has been slow-going.
And I do mean slooow going. However, I am beginning to make progress again. All those lovely words I have on paper are coming to the screen. I have, in short, managed to train myself into typing sans two fingers. It’s been difficult, but I’ve managed it.
Here’s what else I’ve managed to train myself to do without two fingers;
1) Wash my hair.
Believe it or not, this is a very difficult process when you’re missing two fingers. I no longer have the full-on scalp massage during the soaping process and must compensate with the other hand in order to make sure everything gets clean.
2) Drive.
Now, let me explain that.
The location of the puncture wound was in my palm, about three-quarters of an inch below the two offending fingers. For a very long time I found myself having to use the heel of my palm to drive. More often than not I drove with one hand, but turning the vehicle became slightly more difficult.
3) Wrestle with my son.
He’s a boy. He’s active. He likes to play. For the first little bit I had to learn to wrestle one-handed since … you know … bumping a puncture wound kinda hurts. Now it’s a lot easier. I just can’t feel those fingers and have to be certain nothing untoward happens to them mid-play.
4) Carrying in Groceries.
Mhmn. This was a pain. But I worked out a system where I looped several bags on the left forearm and went from there.
5) … Type.
I already said it but it can be said again. This was the real kicker, after all. Learning to type without two fingers was quite difficult. There were moments where this really horrible ache would set in and I would have to sit back for a minute or two. That ache is mostly gone now, which is why I’m able to start working again.
So! This is me … halfway through 2014 and way behind on all my writing deadlines. But I think with a little determination and a couple dozen sleepless nights I might catch up again.
Deviation and Dead Magic will both be released in August. Persona still has a tentative release date of December 2nd, though for marketing purposes and what have you I might delay that release in 2015. (Hey, it’s my first self-published. I get to pick the time-frame.)
Usurper is in the middle of the editing process. Sorry, Trenna fans, you’re gonna have to wait a little bit longer.
And Tapped … Oh, my. Tapped is nearly finished with this latest round of edits. Once that is done, I’m sending it out on submission.
Yes, good old fashion submission. Because I love rejection. It’s like my favorite thing in the whole world and I can’t get enough of it.
Cover Art by Chris Howard. (Seriously, this dude’s got talent.)
Today I have a guest post from RJ Blain, author of the newly released Inquisitor. There’s all sorts of goodies in this post, including a book blurb and excerpt, so I won’t be too long-winded in my introduction.
I asked Ms. Blain about how she made her werewolves different from other werewolves within the genre (since Inquisitor deals heavily with werewolves, as I’m sure you guessed) and this is her rather eloquent response …
Werewolves are one of the most frequently written about paranormal creatures in urban fantasy novels, second to the vampire. Writing unique werewolves is difficult. There are concepts that are considered appropriate for werewolves, and straying from these concepts can either confuse readers or earn the author scorn.
After all, wolves have Alpha, Submissive, and Omega ranks in the wild. It just makes sense that these variants exist in urban and paranormal fantasies. How these ranks are executed are one of the ways you can help make your werewolves become unique compared to the ones already out there.
Just remember, there’s nothing wrong with writing a stereotypical werewolf if you’re writing great, unique characters. Werewolves are a species, like humans. Look at how diverse people are.
There is no reason you can’t make your werewolves unique to you.
When I approached my werewolves, I knew I wouldn’t make a completely unique beast. After all, there are (realistically) a limited number of combinations you can use with werewolves and still make them werewolves. Most lycanthropy lore involves the stages of the moon, which adds a nice edge to the curse. Most myths and legends refer to lycanthropy as just that: a curse.
I like blending history and the myths and legends with my own take, so in order to create my werewolves, I had to research lycanthropy, history, and wolves. What sort of people would become werewolves? Why? Could my werewolves be created by choice rather than by random attack?
Those were the first questions I asked, and that’s how I started building my werewolves. I decided that the ritual needed to become a werewolf was a choice. But if lycanthropy is a choice, where did the first werewolf come from?
I then had to think about how a werewolf might come into existence naturally.
This became the foundation of my werewolf society. There are two types of known werewolves in the world: Natural born ones – wolves born to human parents – and changed ones. In Inquisitor, it is revealed there might be a third type of werewolf. I won’t spoil that, though.
Once I figured out what the dynamic between these subspecies of werewolves were, I looked at the type of real werewolves in the world, and decided that the breed of wolf made an impact on the type of werewolf created. Arctic werewolves are considered to be among the rarer breeds of werewolves, matching the rarity of their wild cousins. Grey wolves are the most common type. European werewolves align with European wolves.
The pedigree of werewolf created, I decided, would be determined by the pack transforming the new wolf, predominantly the breeding of the Alpha male and female of the pack. Because it’s a mix of the genetics of the pack as a whole, hybrids between species isn’t uncommon. Purebred wolves are far rarer on account of this, and prized by packs wishing to introduce a strong association with a specific type of wolf.
So, what’s the point of all of these details? What makes a werewolf unique in a world where there are hundreds (if not thousands) of werewolf stories is the details. The little things that make your werewolves unique to you is what is truly important.
Some things are difficult to avoid. Omegas serve a very specific role in canine packs. They serve this same role, amplified, in werewolf packs. How they do it is where the differences often lie. It is the same with submissive wolves and dominant wolves. How they function within the pack is the difference, not their specific function. If you stray too far from the natural roles of wolves within the pack, you end up with a werewolf that doesn’t feel like a werewolf.
Go ahead and write your werewolves. Just make sure you ask yourself what the details are that make them unique to you.
Author Information
RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
When she isn’t playing pretend, she likes to think she’s a cartographer and a sumi-e painter. In reality, she herds cats and a husband. She also has a tendency to play MMOs and other computer games.
In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.
Inquisitor Blurb
When Allison is asked to play Cinderella-turned-Fiancee at a Halloween ball, the last thing she expected was to be accused of murder on the same night. She has to find the killer and quick, or she’ll be put to death for the crimes she didn’t commit. To make matters worse, the victims are all werewolves.
On the short list of potential victims, Allison has to act fast, or the killer will have one more body to add to his little black book of corpses.
There’s only one problem: One of the deaths has struck too close to home, and Allison’s desire for self-preservation may very well transform into a quest for vengeance…
— EXCERPT—
It was well enough our ‘relationship’ was nothing more than make-believe. Our friendship wasn’t much better off, either. Unfortunately, Mark didn’t know that. I shook my head to clear it, staring down at my watch.
3:59 pm.
I glanced eastward, at the glass-lined wall of the jewelry store I was in. Shoppers hurried about their business in the broad mall hallways, chatting to each other or talking on their too-expensive cell phones. Beyond the walls of the building, I could already feel the moon calling to me, birthing shivers under my skin. In a little over an hour, it would start to rise. I made a thoughtful sound, turning my attention back to the glass case in front of me.
It was a full moon on Halloween. Some people would don masks, confident in their superiority as a human, never realizing how close they’d tread to a very violent and bloody end. Others would remove the masks they normally hid behind, rejoicing in their one night of freedom.
A sad few would have no idea what horrors they had sowed come morning.
I was in a lot of trouble. My fellow boogeymen didn’t frighten me all that much. It was Mark who worried me. Mark, as well as the other humans he’d subject me to before the night was done. I hadn’t lost control in years — I doubted Mark’s mother had been born since the last time it’d happened.
But that didn’t change the fact that it could happen.
Old or not, I was still a bitch. Without pack or mate, it was only a matter of time before I lost control.
Mark wouldn’t stand a chance, and when I finally lost my grip on sanity, I wouldn’t even remember killing him. Why hadn’t I said no? Why had I agreed to travel to New York on Halloween? What had I been thinking?
I hadn’t been, and that was a big problem.
“Is there something I can help you with, miss?” A woman asked from beside me. I about jumped out of my skin.
Shit. I swallowed back my heart and improvised. Without really seeing the jewelry beneath the glass, I pointed at something shiny, and hoped it was a necklace. “May I see that please?”
“That’s a very expensive piece, ma’am.”
I glanced at the woman out of the corner of my eye. A pastel pink blazer was matched with a pencil skirt that showed off thin legs and knee-high black boots. Glittering bracelets clung to her wrists. “Is that so,” I murmured, focusing my attention on the piece I pointed at.
Rubies and diamonds winked at me, woven together in a Celtic knot trapped in the center of a web of delicate diamond-encrusted chains. My cheek twitched.
No wonder the woman was skeptical and eying me suspiciously. Here I was, in some luxury jewelry store poking around to waste time, dressed in a beat-up leather coat, a baggy sweater, and worn jeans, complete with mud splatter from my walk in Central park. As my luck had it, I pointed out a necklace worth more than any car or house I’d ever seen in person, let alone owned.
I felt the eyes of every customer in the store settle on me. Great. Just what I needed. An audience.
Maybe I should’ve acted more indignant. Maybe I should’ve walked away. Instead, I took out my wallet, pulled out my black platinum Amex card, and tossed it on the counter. “May I see that please?”
The sales woman stared at the card and then at me, her eyes narrowing. “Do you really think I’m going to believe this is your card?”
Half of the customers in the store cleared out in the time it took the sales woman to pick up my card.
“Is there a problem?” A man dressed in a business suit stepped forward. His blue eyes took in my clothes before settling on the black credit card in his coworker’s hand.
The woman glared down her nose at me, her gaze settling on my beat-up jacket. “I do believe we have a stolen credit card here, sir.”
The manager snatched my credit card. “Is this true, miss?”
Oh hell no. I felt my cheek twitch again. “It’s not. I’ll just take my card to a different store, then.”
“I think this can be resolved quickly and easily, miss,” the man replied. He frowned at me. “Can I see your ID please?”
I showed him my license. The manager winced. “I’m sorry, there have been a lot of theft of valuable jewelry lately by those with fraudulent credit cards and out of state driver’s licenses. This will only take a few minutes as I verify this is a real card.”
Well, at least he wasn’t going to call the police on me right away. I sighed. “Since when hasn’t my driver’s license been sufficient proof? What is this? LA?”
Woot! It’s time to make my list of things for next year!
Really, I love this post. It gets me all excited for what I’m about to work on. I did spend a lot of time playing with this new computer and its handy little calendar, so I have a lot of big ideas to put up here.
So, without further ado, here is my list for 2014.
#1) Graduate. (That’s right, people. In May 2014 I will officially graduate from Northwest Nazarene University with my Bachelor of Arts.)
#2) Submit Persona to the ABNA contest in January. (That’s the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards. It’s worth a shot, you know?)
#3) Implement edits from developmental editor (Yay, Gabriel Fitzpatrick!) on Tapped. (Yes, that book I finished last year that went out to Alpha/Beta readers and a supremely wonderful editor will be edited during the first 5 months of 2014. It wouldn’t normally take that long to do edits but … you know … I’ll still be in school around that time.)
#4) Finish Residual Haunting. (Yep, that’s the novel I started for NaNoWriMo this year.)
#5) Revamp the synopsis and query letters for the revised Tapped novel. And then Send. Out. Those. Queries. (Non-negotiable there.)
#6) (Starting in September) Revise Persona and start formatting it for publication.
#7) Participate in NaNoWriMo again. (Hopefully I’ll win, too. I won’t be in school anymore so I won’t have that excuse if I lose.)
#8) On December 2, 2014 Persona will be released as my first self-published novel. (This would be my big, scary, impossible goal for the year. I’ve never released something on my own and it’s going to be a challenge.)
#9) I would really, really, really like it if I could climb a mountain. (Let’s hope that I get a car that works and the state of Idaho doesn’t catch fire again.)
#10) If I can swing it, I would love to be a Secret Santa for someone next year. I’ve had one this year and it has been wonderful fun.
… And there you have it. My goals for 2014.
There are a lot more on there than last year, and most of them have to do with writing. Yes, that is deliberate. After graduating I intend to make a big professional push in that direction. That’ll mean marketing and all that jazz as well — which I admit I have no idea how to do.
But I figure I went to school so I could do what I love. And what I love is telling stories that examine who we are as people, that expose both the ugly parts of us and the beauty we are capable of. The degree that I’ll have is really just another tool to help me tell those stories.
So here I am rolling up my sleeves, getting ready for one awesome 2014. I hope everyone is as excited as I am for the future.
Looking at my blog schedule I realized that I have all of 3 weeks left in the year. 3 weeks and 2013 is over!
Well, three weeks and a few days if we want to be technical. But since the end of this year is actually going to be supremely crazy for me (5-year-old + Christmas = Mayhem) I thought I’d better write my year-in-review now. Because honestly, apart from making New Years goals this happens to be one of my absolute favorite posts to make. (Uber loves and thanks go out to Lisa Cohen for getting me hooked on this.)
So! What did I say I wanted to do in the year 2013?
1) Submit my edited copy of Dead Magic to DDP on my deadline of March 1st.
There’s a big check mark in that particular box. Dead Magic was sent in, edited twice over by the fine people at DDP, and will be released in 2014.
2) Finish Usurper.
To be totally honest, I’m still working on this one. But if I follow my schedule I will have it done on December 3oth. Which is cutting it a little close but … eh … at least it’ll have a completed draft.
3) World Build and (hopefully) complete Tapped.
Another big check mark. Tapped has a completed draft AND went through the hands of an editor. I’ll be editing Tapped using the editor’s notes starting January 2nd.
4) Climb 2 Mountains.
…….. Well, you see, my car broke. I couldn’t drive up to the mountains in a car that kept breaking, so I couldn’t climb any mountains. But I totally made up for this, I swear!
Those are the 4 goals I planned out for 2013. Here’s what I did in addition to all of that;
1) Re-wrote and serialized my first historical fiction — Hurray Persona!
2) Participated (and lost) NaNoWriMo, leaving me with 37 thousand words of a truly entertaining ghost/science fiction story.
3) Edited Deviation per DDP notes — subsequently Deviation will also be released in 2014.
4) Wrote a short story for a new DDP anthology — which I imagine will come out soon. (The Nano-Fisherman’s Wife)
5) Wrote another short story for a completely different anthology which will hopefully come out around Christmastime. (Countdown to Goodbye)
6) Started lifting weights. (This is not a joke. I totally have started lifted weights and my arms look incredible. If I weren’t allergic to the whole “selfie” picture thing I would totally post one just of my biceps.)
7) Started researching the Civil War era for a prospective historical novel.
And that’s all on top of the whole school work thing. Which, by the way, I will graduate in the Spring. But I’ll post next week about all the fun things I get to do in 2014. For now, I’m just happy to see what I managed to accomplish in 2013. It was truly a year of hard work, but it was work I enjoyed doing so that made it worth all the hours in front of an empty page.
I hope everyone else had a wonderful year and I’m looking forward to a fruitful 2014.
Between work, school and being a single parent I’m told that it is impossible for me to have the time to write as well. And I suppose for a lot of people that might be true, but the sad fact of the matter is that I just can’t function properly without some story going on inside my head.
I call it my “back reel” — that weird, unidentifiable space in my brain that is constantly collecting story ideas, running through plot fragments, snagging hold of a stranger’s face for use in a description and … well … pretty much always driving me insane. The point is, it’s always running and if I don’t get it out on paper I think I could explode or something.
So how do I write while attending school, working full-time and being a parent?
Well, the first thing I do is listen to music at work. Right now I’m rocking the Pacific Rim soundtrack because it totally revs me up for the edit on Tapped I’m going to be doing here in a few weeks. I haven’t actually started on those edits, but I do keep some paper nearby for any instant inspirations that hit me.
Now, I’m lucky enough to have a job that allows me to put my headphones in and pretty much ignore everyone else while I get my work done. This gives my muse plenty of space to run in and by the time I get home and the kiddo in bed I’m ready to start writing.
Yes, I do the writing thing before I do my homework. I have to.
If I didn’t do it this way I’d be distracted from my homework. Plus, it gives my brain a chance to acclimate from the work scene to the home scene. So by the time I’m done with my writing hour I’m ready to do my homework.
After I’ve gotten up and done some dishes, swapped out the laundry and checked on the kiddo, of course. And at the very end of the night, when the homework is done and the writing is carefully tucked away, I watch something. That’s what gets my brain to stop thinking so hard so that I can get a good night’s sleep.
It amuses me when someone says they really want to write but don’t have the time for it. To be really harsh about it, they’ll never have the time to write if they continue to think like that. You have to make it a priority. Once you do that, you’ll find a way.
