A.J. Maguire

Tag: Writing

  • Love and Relationships – February 2019 Round Robin

    Not to sound too much like a prude but I blushed my way through my first intimate scene. All I could think was that my mother was going to read this and the next time I see her there will be that long, awkward moment when she tells me she liked the book and then won’t look me in the face.

    Which is probably why that scene lasted all of two paragraphs in Sedition. The sequel had a much longer scene, but after Saboteur I came to a place in my writing where I recognized that as much as I enjoy love stories, I did not enjoy explaining what 100% of the adult reading public already knows how to do.

    Granted, there is a HUGE market where authors are making bank on steamy scenes. I even read some of them.

    Are there boundaries I think shouldn’t be crossed in writing?

    Well… That depends on if you’re asking professional-writer-me or happy-reader-me.

    Professional-writer-me understands that the moment we censure fiction is the moment we’ve crossed into someone’s freedom. That said, there are things that even romance publishers express as tasteless and wrong, and I agree with them.

    Because I don’t want to trigger anyone who may have suffered from trauma, I will leave it at that.

    Happy-reader-me skips over steamy scenes.

    I just do.

    It’s nothing against the writing. If I’ve made it to that scene, it means the relationship in the novel has progressed enough and engaged me enough to keep me going. The steamy-scene is just sort of… obligatory?

    I also do not enjoy writing the typical romance novel where strangers meet and grow into lovers. This is probably because I have a general fear of meeting new people – Introverts Unite! – and all my experiences have been full of anxiety and paranoia.

    BUT…

    I am a romantic.

    My stories are full of characters who love each other, but it is a love that has grown naturally over the course of the story . And honestly, I am more interested in seeing how that love defines the lives of the characters and shapes who they are both as a couple and as individuals.

    I like stories about marriages.

    Nelek and Trenna, who star in the Sedition Series, are a marriage.

    In the Tapped series, Seach and Jorry grew into a romance after many years together.

    Cordon and Tessa, who will be in my upcoming novel The Soul Between Us, were married young but military/life pulled them apart. Their story is about mending a bridge.

    So where does that leave me in the romance/relationship aspect of storytelling?

    I want my readers to love how my characters love each other, and that goes beyond the bedroom. It goes into the sacrifices they make for the other person, the decisions they make as a team, and ultimately the story they have to tell.

    I can pretty much guarantee that my intimate scenes will fade to black. They exist because intimacy is a part of every relationship, and without it there would be some serious alarm bells going on for every marriage counselor out there, but sometimes even fictional characters deserve some privacy.

    See what my fellow authors have to say about relationships in fiction…

    Margaret Fieland http://margaretfieland.wordpress.com
    Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
    Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
    Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
    A.J. Maguire  https://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/ (YOU ARE HERE)
    Marci Baun  http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/
    Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1vP
    Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobinleecourtright.com

  • Near The End

    There’s a moment in every book where you’re so close to the end you can taste it and suddenly you lose all talent you ever possessed.

    Poof!

    Gone in an instant.

    Or at least, this is what happens to me. It’s different for every writer, but it seems universal that we all come to a point where we realize what hacks we are.

    The tension isn’t there. The characters are flat. The setting is nonexistent and we’ve discovered a love of one word that keeps repeating itself every other sentence.

    Mine is the word ‘just’ if you’re wondering. He just managed to catch it. She just loved him. If she could just stop using the word just she might be capable of writing something worth reading.

    I digress.

    My moment of self-loathing always comes near the end of the novel. I’m sure there’s some psychology behind this, like I don’t want the story to end because I’ve spent so many hours commiserating with these characters that I just (see?) can’t let them go.

    Or this is when my self-doubt rears its head because the next phase in this process (after editing) is querying and sweet holy banana’s on toast, how I hate querying.

    Whatever the reasons, it’s there. And it’s a bear to get through. But if you’re a writer out there and you identify with anything I’ve said in this post, then allow me to stand in solidarity with you.

    It sucks, but you’re not alone. Take a deep breath. Eat some ice cream. And let’s get back to work.

  • Wherein I Forecast 2019 (Writing-wise, of course)

    Last week I noted the things that I managed to complete in 2018 – which was a lot and I’m still patting myself on the back for a good year. I recognize that only die-hard fans really care about this stuff, and for those of you out there who count yourselves among this rare breed of reader, let it be known that I love you all and pray you never change.

    For those who watch the blog for the writing class updates and other content, this might not be the post for you. And that’s OK!

    If, for reasons neither of us can fully explain, the idea of peeking inside an author’s deadline calendar entices you, then I fully welcome you to read on. Otherwise, this is mostly to keep my head on straight through the year.

    So, what do I want to accomplish in 2019?

    • A short story every month. These stories will vary in theme and substance and, hopefully, will find their way into the market. Others may find their way onto this site for FREE content.
    • 2nd and 3rd drafts of The Castle of Three Kings completed. And then, of course, start submitting this MG/YA story to places.
    • 2nd and 3rd drafts of The 13th Month completed. Also with the submission process in full swing.
    • Record Enemy Souls into audio to be released in segments for FREE. The hard copy will be available for sale if people don’t want to wait a week to find out what happens.
    • Release the Fact vs. Fiction edition of Tapped at the same time as Enemy Souls.
    • Inmate rough draft. (Camp Nano)
    • Warpath rough draft. (Nano)
    • City of Cemeteries rough draft.

    I am sure I’ll get sidetracked by something and replace stuff and/or scrap a project, but for now I’m sticking with this list. I look forward to seeing how much of this I can get done and I hope everyone else has fun in the coming year.

  • 2018 In Review

    This year was crazy fun! Not only did I move across the country, but I got a ton of work done while I was at it.

    IMG_2193What did I have projected for 2018? Well….

    1) Complete Ashwood edits 1-3 and begin shopping it around.

    Big check mark here! Not only did I begin shopping it around, but I got some great feedback. I don’t want to jinx anything, so I’ll just say that I’m hoping to throw some celebratory confetti soon.

    2) Complete Enemy Souls and release it the Fall.

    IMG_1699Mostly check mark… Because the book is done, but I have decided to do some crazy new things with this book in the coming months. I will be releasing it as a podiobook, chapter by chapter, for FREE. But if you can’t wait for the chapters to come out or the sound of my voice irritates you (hey, it’s possible) then it will also be out for sale in hard copy at the same time.

    This is a marketing ploy. I know. And I do hate marketing, but at least this way I can have some fun with it. I’ll be stretching theater and public speaking muscles that haven’t been used in some time, so it should be a grand adventure…

    As soon as I have a proper microphone and sound booth. (Christmas, fellas. That’s my eyelash-batting wish to Santa and he seems to like me enough to agree.)

    2nd Edition of the original Tapped novel released sometime in the summer.

    Newp. Didn’t do this one. I have the edits done and I know what I want to put in the Fact 1130181417cvs. Fiction section at the back, but I put it on hold because it made more sense to do the Tapped universe stuff all at the same time. So you can expect this to come out around the same time or slightly before Enemy Souls makes its audio debut.

    3) First Draft – Song of Swans.

    Sadly, this novel was scrapped. Or not so sadly, because it became Castle of Three Kings and the first draft of that novel is complete. SO! I give it a check mark as complete anyway.

    4) First Draft – The 13th Month. 

    As of this moment I am 8 chapters shy of the finish line. If I keep my deadlines then the book will be more than done by the end of the year. So I’m going to give it a preemptive check mark.

    5) First Draft – Inmate.

    1130181417aI didn’t even start this one. Big old X and a blaring horn of shame.

    BUT!

    The things I did that weren’t on the agenda…

    Several short stories, one of which I am going to give as a freebie for my New Years Celebratory post. I won Camp NanoWrimo AND I won November’s NaNowrimo.

    Started plotting a completely different novel thanks to the Writing Excuses Master Class that I’ve been taking. 1130181417b

    Began working on my twitter presence and all the marketing stuff that I super hate but is required for people to actually… you know… pick up my novels. It’s been grueling work there, but at the end of the day, I remind myself that it is more important to write good books than to try blasting people with my information.

    Hence the Master Class. And the classes through Coursera I’m taking. And the fact that my butt hits the chair at 9AM sharp every day.

    I have also had the pleasure of connecting with writers in this area. All have been lovely people and I am so pleased to call them quasi-neighbors now that I’m in New England.

    I hope everyone else had a great 2018!

  • Holiday Snippet – December Round Robin

    This month, the round robin participants are regaling everyone with snippets from their own work that highlight the spirit of the season. Some may even give a short story or flash fiction and I’m delighted to check out what they have in store.

    For me, I’ve chosen an excerpt from my novel Persona, a novel about Megan Shepherd as she is thrust unwittingly into the middle of Nazi Germany. While the snippet is more somber than I’m sure many of the other works will prove today, I chose it because, at its heart, is a woman who misses home.

    As a veteran, I deeply respect the sacrifice that takes family members away from home during whatever holidays they normally celebrate. If there’s an empty space at your table this year, I hope you find some comfort in those who are able to gather with you, and I hope your loved one comes home soon.

    Happy Holidays.

    Persona – Chapter Five

    “You’re such a quiet little thing,” Schuler remarked.

    He sat across from her in their little train car, his newspaper momentarily forgotten on his lap. Megan pulled her gaze from the window to look at him. He sat uncomfortably in the barely-padded seat, his lanky frame folded in awkward angles. Megan had dozed off and on since leaving Wilhelmshaven, but it was a light sleep that couldn’t satisfy her exhaustion. The train jostled along its tracks, rumbling through the seat so loudly that it never failed to wake her.

    And, of course, her mind would not leave her alone to rest either. As grateful as she was to be leaving all signs of the Navy behind, it was increasingly evident that she was travelling deeper into Germany, deeper behind so-called enemy lines, and her tension was growing.

    “At first I thought it was because you were sick,” Schuler said thoughtfully. “And then because you were worried about what sort of future Germany had in store for you. But now I think it’s just your nature. You’re quiet.”

    Megan shifted in her seat, feeling stiff, angry muscles stretch with the sudden movement. She felt exhausted all around, like she could melt into a little pool of nothingness and still never recover from the past weeks. And yet she had to recover, and quickly because the curiosity on Schuler’s face was not going away. She gathered up the threads of her lie, reminding herself yet again that she was Klaudia Volk, orphaned and lost, relying on the kindnesses of men she’d just met.

    Feeling terribly small and exposed, Megan smiled at him, knowing full well how strained it must look.

    “I’m sorry, Doctor,” she said. “Did you want conversation?”

    “Well, perhaps a little, Klaudia,” Schuler said with a smile that was far more gracious than her own.

    It seemed safest to keep the conversation on him, so she searched for a neutral topic.

    “Have you known Captain Von Buren very long?” She asked.

    “I’ve known him for several years, yes,” he said. “He’s a very good man. The best I’ve ever known. Though I think he should have warned you about his house.”

    “His house?”

    “Yes,” Schuler said, folding his newspaper. “I wouldn’t describe it as a mere house, Klaudia. It’s very large. His property takes up several acres, though the … shall we say, manor house … sits near the center.”

    The word “manor” made her stiffen in surprise, and then she chastised herself for the reaction. He was a Von. He had history and title to him. Of course he lived in that history.

    “Most of the rooms are closed off, I’m sure,” Schuler went on, tapping the folded paper in his lap. “But I still can’t see you feeling comfortable there. That house is enough to swallow me whole and I’m used to a certain level of luxury.”

    “Is it his family home?”

    “Oh yes. The Von Buren’s have lived there for several generations. They trace their lineage back to kings and barons,” Schuler said. “Not that such a lineage says much these days. Still, I think there might be a guest house on the property. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you chose to reside there instead.”

    Kings and barons, Megan thought. The image fit Von Buren very well. He had the air of aristocracy and the firm, unyielding command of a man bred to lead. And now that she thought about it, he had told Albrecht that his estate was large. This really shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

    “Where did you grow up, Klaudia?”

    Megan looked to the window again and tried to mask her panic. It appeared she would not be able to keep the conversation from her person. She took a deep breath and stared at the blurred passage of shadowed trees and buildings outside.

    Stick with the familiar, she thought.

    “Neuss,” she said. “My father owned a barley farm.”

    Her mother had come from Neuss, so she was confident any digging around Schuler might do would bring up the name Klaudia Volk. Of course, that name was tied to a ten year old girl just prior to her leaving Germany with her family but at least it was there. And she was fairly certain Uncle George had mentioned a barley farm, too.

    But maybe it was wheat.

    She prayed Schuler knew less than she did about agriculture.

    “Ah,” Schuler said. “That explains the quiet nature, I think. No doubt you’ve had more excitement the last few years than you’re used to.”

    “Yes,” she said, grateful to be telling the truth again.

    “Well, I’m certain life will quiet down again for you in Ulm.”

    She smiled at him, a genuine smile this time. “I certainly hope so.”

    They lapsed into silence and Megan turned her attention back to the window. The landscape seemed to have flattened, giving her a clear view of open fields stretching far into the horizon. Here and there the rounded curve of a hill interrupted, its grassy face somehow dull in the winter light and the sky above looked pale gray bordering on blue, as if the elements themselves felt it necessary to display a dreary and foreboding day. Megan let the images blur, choosing to focus on the foggy windowpane instead.

    She’d missed Christmas.

    Or she was about to anyway.

    Schultz had informed her they’d made harbor on the twenty-second of December, and it had been a day later before she’d met with Albrecht.

    Christmas Eve, she thought, suddenly understanding why their train was so full. Soldiers and families were desperately trying to close the distance, to congregate in central locations for a celebration or two. Megan smiled, her mind drifting to home, to the sharp scent of pine and colorful packages ringing the tree.

    Mother had always loved Christmas, both the traditions of her homeland and the ones her father had insisted upon. The month of December generally created joyous mayhem in the Shepherd home, starting with the Advent wreath and moving through Saint Nikolaus Day where their clean shoes would be left outside the door overnight so that Nikolaus could fill them with treats. But on Christmas itself the celebration came to a climax with big dinners and thoughtful presents and Megan couldn’t stop the sudden wash of homesickness as it rushed over her.

    Heaven help her, she missed her mother so much.

    Megan took a deep breath, banishing mother from her mind. She knew where those thoughts would lead, could sense the dark hospital room encroaching on her memory, and forced herself back into the present. Schuler had returned to his newspaper, his brow pinched in displeasure at whatever he was reading. A part of her wanted to draw him out again, to ask what had his attention and start another conversation, but he would inevitably ask more about her person and she wasn’t ready for that.

    She had the ridiculous thought to write down her story as she’d told it to Schuler and Von Buren, just to keep it all straight. But she couldn’t risk someone else finding it, so of course that would not do. Frustrated, Megan turned to the window again and tried to get some sleep. It would be some hours before she reached Ulm and she imagined she would need all her wits about her when she got there.

    Check out some other holiday inspired snippets and free content from my fellow authors here on the round robin…

    Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
    Helena Fairfax http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog
    Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
    Anne Stenhouse  http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/
    A.J. Maguire  https://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/ (YOU ARE HERE)
    Fiona McGier http://www.fionamcgier.com/
    Connie Vines http://mizging.blogspot.com/
    Diane Bator http://dbator.blogspot.ca/
    Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1qI
    Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
    Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobinleecourtright.com

  • NaNoWriMo 2018 Results

    Even with a holiday visiting my mother – on the other side of the nation, I might add –  I managed to make it passed the 50k mark and win NaNoWriMo. The rest of the year will be spent finishing this novel about ghouls and goblins and dragons. It has been great fun to write Pru’s story, though I did have to drift away from hand writing and start typing the thing.

    Wrist cramps are a thing. And sometimes my fingers get sore when I’ve spent too much time writing by hand.

    That being said, I am pleased with the results for this year. As soon as I have the entire book completed (which should happen on the 31st of December, if not before) then it will be tucked away until April.

    Also this year I had my son participate. While his goal was not 50,000 words, he was assigned to write 200 words a day and for the first half of the month he did this beautifully. But then the laptop died and with it, his means of typing.

    It was a joy to watch him work. Around the third or fourth day that he came to me, wide-eyed, and said; “I get why you like writing now. Anything can happen!”

    My heart swelled with so much pride in that moment, I feared it would burst. I look forward to including him in future National Novel Writing projects when I’ve secured a personal laptop for him.

    To those of you who participated and made your goals, I applaud you. Imaginary confetti is dusting your shoulders as you read this.

    To those of you who participated but missed the mark, I still applaud you. Writing is a frightfully dangerous endeavor. As my son says; “Anything can happen!” The fact that you braved the blank page and started to fill it tells me you’re the courageous sort and I truly believe you’ll finish that story no matter what.

  • Costs and Rewards – November Round Robin

    After that fateful assignment in the sixth grade that spurred me into the writing life, I confess the road has not been easy. Two years later I started writing a fantasy novel based off Dungeons and Dragons characters. My cousins were involved, as well as my brother, and I allowed my mother to read a bit of my work.

    I remember the piece because I was particularly proud of how I’d delved into the mindset of a traumatized woman. My life to that point had not been terribly traumatic so it was a stretch of the imagination to get there.

    My mother’s response was that if I wrote things like that, people would think I’d experienced something like it.

    I didn’t believe her until a year later. Bored with a spelling assignment, I decided to stretch those imaginative muscles again. The assignment was to use specific words in a sentence and I wove a short narrative to entertain myself. This was of a darker nature, which I blame on my reading pile at the time, and resulted in the teacher sitting down with me and the counselor.

    I had to explain that I was just playing with the assignment and hadn’t experienced anything of the sort – I think I had the narrator watch someone fall off a cliff, but can’t quite remember – and that all was well. The teacher and counselor both seemed uneasy but satisfied by my answers, and it was then that I realized how different I was.

    Sadly, I was not self-aware at the time, but I have come to understand that the main difference between myself and the majority of the world, is that I don’t just see people for who they are. I see them for their potential, both good and bad. And while that serves me well as a writer, it has often brought about complications in my personal life.

    Because while I see the potential for bad, I strive to help them reach the good, often at great cost to myself.

    Not so in my writing. There I explore how bad things can get, and willfully cross the threshold with my characters until there is no turning back .

    The rewards of writing far outweigh the cost for me. They are much the same as the rewards from reading in that I am able to visit new worlds and cultures, experience jobs I would otherwise never encounter, and touch on that deep vein of humanity that courses through us all. The difference being that as a writer, I am submerged within the storytelling, privy to all the character backstories and world building that is only shallowly represented in the completed work.

    This is my happy place, where I exist in tandem with the stories I tell. And if I’m a bit daydreamy to friends and family, I am comforted that they love me in spite of it. Or, in the case of my husband, they love me because of it. In this I count myself the luckiest woman in the world.

    See the costs and rewards for my fellow authors in this month’s Round Robin discussion.

    Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
    Judith Copek http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/
    Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
    A.J. Maguire  https://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/ (YOU ARE HERE)
    Fiona McGier http://www.fionamcgier.com/
    Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1qD
    Connie Vines http://mizging.blogspot.com/
    Diane Bator http://dbator.blogspot.ca/
    Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
    Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobinleecourtright.com

  • Keeping Tension – October Round Robin

    Welcome to another Round Robin discussion! This month we’re focusing on keeping up the tension in a book from start to finish.

    After several years writing books, I can sense when a scene is slacking now. It derails me and I pick up my crystal ball (no, really, I have one) and start hashing things out using three “writer’s tools” from my personal toolbox.

    If you haven’t heard of the writer’s toolbox, I suggest reading Stephen King’s On Writing, as well as frequenting the Writing Excuses podcast. Both are invaluable.

    So!

    There I am, writing along, when… ugh, this scene is dragging. Why is this taking so long for me to write?

    Because we know that if it isn’t interesting to the writer, then it certainly won’t be interesting for the reader, right?

    First tool in the box – POV.

    Basically, I have to ask if I put the right Point of View character in this scene. Are they too competent for the situation?

    For example, if we have a broken down car, we obviously want a mechanic there to fix it. But that’s not drama, that’s not tension, we need someone incompetent in there to see what they do.

    Second tool in the box – Stakes.

    Oftentimes, when a scene is slacking, it means I need to up the stakes for them. This doesn’t have to be life or death stakes, it can be something smaller. And really, it’s the smaller things that help ground us in the character anyway.

    For example, if the character is lost in the middle of a town because somehow your plot got them there. Not only do they want to figure out where they are, but we give them another want as well… like, say, a burrito.

    I’m sure we can all share the frustration of being lost in an unfamiliar town, and we can share the feeling of hunger. These aren’t huge stakes, but they are stakes, and the character’s repeated mantra to find a burrito adds some humor.

    Third tool in the box – Meshing.

    This one is simply the realization that we can combine two scenes together to make a stronger narrative. I use this one quite a lot in the editing stage. When I do my first read-through, I mark each chapter by color based on their strength. Anything yellow can be combined, and I’ve found the book as a whole benefits.

    And that’s it! That’s a peek into my writer’s toolbox. Check out what my fellow authors have to say in this month’s round robin.

    Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
    Anne Stenhouse  http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com/
    Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
    A.J. Maguire  https://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/ (YOU ARE HERE)
    Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1oh
    Helena Fairfax http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog
    Diane Bator http://dbator.blogspot.ca/
    Judith Copek http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/
    Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobinleecourtright.com

  • September Round Robin – Reading is Cool!

    A couple of years ago my son informed me that he hated reading. Being an author, this made my heart hurt and I set out to fix this viewpoint by writing a story for him. I kept it short because he is young, but I did not spare him in language, plot, or character.

    41SPrUMbf+LI even published it myself so that he could have a real book to read in his hands, something he could point to on Amazon. The novelette featured a man cursed into wolf form by an evil witch and it’s titled Torven. You can find it on Amazon if you’re really curious.

    But I also had my son involved in the making of it. So he heard the rough draft as it was written, chapter by chapter. I paused frequently so he could ask questions, which often turned into suggestions. It amazed me how much he wanted to be part of the process, as opposed to simply reading it.

    I’d written him into one of my novels once already, and that had him at least partially interested. Mostly he wanted to hear the parts of the story that featured his character, but at least he listened as I read it.

    When it came to Torven, though, he was really excited to tell me where he thought the story was going and we ended every session with a conversation. He asked how Torven was cursed, and I reminded him that this was part of the story and if he wanted to know then we had to keep reading.

    And when we met the witch, he wanted to know if Torven killed her. Again, I told him he had to keep reading to find out. But with this one, he adamantly informed me that Torven HAD to kill the witch or it wouldn’t be a good story.

    Interestingly enough, he also went into how the witch became a witch. As an author, I like to twist things around and see how wicked people were good once and got corrupted, but in my son’s view, there was never any good there.  If I recall correctly, he said the witch was born from a bog.

    That never made it into the book but I remember praising him for such a creative backstory. The image of murky, stagnant water boiling and swirling until the deadly witch rose from its depths has always stuck with me and I may ask him for permission to use that one day.

    As for other people in my life who claim they either don’t have the time or don’t like to read, there isn’t much I can do. It seems to be popular to hate reading these days, people shrugging the task off and saying they’ll watch the movie when/if it comes out. I’m sure all writers find this attitude disheartening, but that doesn’t stop us from creating novels.

    Happily, I married a man who enjoys reading, and my son is warming to the written word. In the grand scheme of things, I think I’ve done all I can to remind my family that reading is cool and creativity shouldn’t be underestimated.

    Check out what my fellow authors do to help encourage reading in this month’s Round Robin:

    Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea

    Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com

    Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1ly

    Connie Vines http://mizging.blogspot.com/

    Anne de Gruchy https://annedegruchy.co.uk/category/blog/

    A.J. Maguire  https://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/ (YOU ARE HERE)

    Anne Stenhouse  http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com

    Helena Fairfax http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog

    Fiona McGier http://www.fionamcgier.com/

    Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobinleecourtright.com

     

     

  • Interesting Characters – WE Master Class

    For the last several weeks I’ve been undergoing the Writing Excuses Master Class put out a couple years ago. If you’re not familiar with the folks at Writing Excuses, I highly recommend them. They don’t require a ton of your time (15 minutes long, though it does sometimes stretch to 20) and even if they talk about things you already know, it’s a discussion that might open you up to something you hadn’t heard before.

    A prime example is their conversation on interesting characters (Episode 10.5).

    This concept was not new to me. I knew about character agency and stakes and accountability walking into it, and yet I was able to glean a little bit more from them. While this series of blog posts are supposed to be focused on a new novel (fictional characters body snatch people via a new reader’s app) and I have been having fun working within that venue, I found this episode helped one of my other works in progress more.

    Castle of Three Kings follows Kevin Campbell, a sixteen-year-old boy who finds himself stuck in this cursed castle. The world is interesting, the reason for the curse is solid, and the major players are all colorful or tragic, but Kevin is… well… boring.

    Somehow I managed to write 3/4 of a novel with a boy who has only the vaguest character arc, tons of agency (he doesn’t want to die), and zero personality.

    Part of me wants to blame this on the fact that I typed the whole first draft instead of doing it by hand (my preferred method). Whatever got me into this position, I’m here now and when I start editing next month I will be concentrating on his arc using some of the methods from this class.

    In particular, I’ll be playing with the sliding scales of competency and proactive and likability. These were discussed in other podcasts they’ve done, but they mention it again in this one.

    To learn more about the Writing Excuses Podcast and its lovely, talented authors, you can go here.

    For kicks and giggles, I’m going to go ahead and put a snippet of the new novel here. This is one of my character auditions from the last lesson.

    —

    Kenzie Graham knew the voices in her head weren’t real. She’d lived twenty-three years without them yammering about violins and villains and she was damn well going to live another twenty-three without them. Preferably more than twenty-three, but at this point she was willing to bargain.

    She strode down the hall, clutching her Jefferson’s School of Technology computer pad to her chest and avoiding eye contact with fellow students. It wasn’t that she was shy, or even the fact that she was scared – well, petrified – that kept her head down.

    No, she couldn’t look at anyone because anytime she did it seemed to trigger Sherlock.

    Yes, Sherlock, as in Mr. Holmes himself, the fictional detective that should have stayed fictional. He leaped to vociferous life whenever she locked eyes with someone, running through a list of deductions faster than she could blink. Which in some cases was helpful, he did bark to life in time to warn her away from a spiked drink, but after thirteen hours of his incessant badgering, she was quite done.

    Professor Hildon’s experimental app had a major glitch and no amount of extra credit was going to keep her quiet.

    “Woah, Kenzie, wait up!” A familiar voice called from behind.

    She turned on instinct, surprised and pleased that Cory Miller would seek her out. But Sherlock roused, she could sense him stirring, and as Cory sauntered up there was the familiar barrage of insights; tousled shirt, fraying at the hems of his jeans, sand on his shoes, and the faint odor of decomposing seaweed.

    Underachiever, Sherlock said. You can do better.

    Kenzie tried for a smile. “Hey, Cory.”

    “You bailed early last night,” Cory said with an easy grin.

    Please, there’s nothing easy about that grin, Sherlock said. Look at his eyes, he’s worried.

    Gritting her teeth, she told Sherlock to stuff it and looked away from Cory. “Yeah, I had homework to do.”

    “Oh, right,” Cory said, sounding disappointed.

    Crestfallen, my dear. The word you want is crestfallen. HE obviously wanted to spend time with you.

    Kenzie held tighter to her computer pad, one part elated at this news and the other part damning Sherlock to hell. Or wherever fictional characters go when they die.

    Assuming one believes in an everlasting soul, I should say I don’t have one and therefore don’t qualify for either heaven or hell. But chin up, Kenzie, if he is so distressed, it means he couldn’t have been the one to spike your drink.

    “Well of course he didn’t,” Kenzie said, and to her mortification, she realized she’d said it out loud.

    Cory blinked at her. “Are you OK?”

    “Not really,” she said, going for the truth because why the hell not? It wasn’t unheard of for software to go bonkers, especially in its developmental stage. But she had signed an NDA before taking the extra credit, so there was only so much she could impart without jeopardizing her academic career. “Have you seen Professor Hildon?”