Back from the Brink

Oh, boy, folks, have I had a crazy few weeks. Grab a cuppa coffee/tea/wine/beverage of your choice and let me tell you all about it.

So I needed a mini break of blogging because I hadn't quite figured out how to manage my writing, my "new" job, family, life, and blogging all at the same time. I think I've figured it out now, so we're gonna try a trial of me blogging on Tuesdays and Saturdays for a while, and see how it works. Please bear with me as I reintegrate myself into the blogosphere.

This is your brain on editing.
Any questions?

Then there was the writing. In late October not only was I trying to manage some pretty intense revision on my novel (currently listed on my WIPs page as FIGHTING FATE, though I plan to change the title to IN FLAMES). I wanted to get a full round of revision finished before NaNoWriMo started, while also juggling my NaNo prep. That took a LOT out of me, and I edited until my brains turned into liquid goo. Seriously. It was messy.

My own personal NaNo shield

On November first, having finished that round of editing, I was happy to accept my NaNo fate. I greeted it with a warm, strong handshake. And on the fateful afternoon of November 1st, I had an extra meeting with my boss, wherein he asked me to work overtime in preparation for our display at an upcoming conference (I work for a small, specialty academic publisher). And in my inner ear, I heard my NaNo plans go *squish*. My boss and I negotiated trading the days in early November for days around Thanksgiving, so not all was lost, but it put some stress on my NaNo plans nonetheless.

As of November 12th, one-third of the way through the month, I had only written about 14K over the course of 4 authentic writing days. Ouch.

On the morning on November 13th, as I'm leaving my house to pick up a friend, I grab my phone to let her know I'm coming, and see that I have a missed text message from my boss--who, I might add, never sends me text messages. It said, more or less, that he was in the hospital, post-surgery after having had a heart attack. Everything okay. Call to talk about conference prep. SERIOUSLY. My boss is in the intensive care unit on a Sunday morning and wants to talk about conference prep. Now, granted, the conference started on the 17th. My boss isn't really all that Type-A, but we did still have a lot of work to do, and that essentially took the editorial side of our house from 3 to 2 employees doing the bulk of the work (we have a few work-study students, but regular employees, we are three). So now add more overtime work to my schedule over the next three days, making the first day of the conference (Nov 17th) day 5 for writing. Not a good sign.

See how the Jell-O powder gets all goopy with a little water?

Not to mention that on the 17th and the 18th I was about as worthless a writer as an uncooked box of Jell-O, from working 10hour days three days in a row, and the emotional turmoil of talking to my boss on the phone while he was doped on morphine and falling asleep. Yup, powdery Jell-O.

Somehow, though, I managed to pull a few days writing between 5-6K. Don't ask me how. Perhaps some superhuman feats of strength that even kryptonite couldn't squelch. Who knows? But I have to attribute at least a little of my success to Hart Johnson and her stupendous idea for hour-long sprint-writing sessions. I think those were ultimately my saving grace. Coordinated over Facebook, I would periodically join Hart, among others, on these sprints, and both the time and the community support helped a ton.

And, imagine, through all of that, I actually won!

Granted, according to my word verification, I only have 50,002 words, but I don't care! I'm 2 words over what they need (although, according to my Scrivener file, I have 50,019), and that's what matters.

Anyway, now it's December. A little over two weeks until the holiday break comes, which will entail lots of time with family, friends, and fruitcake. I'm already celebrating by eating too many sweets and listening to Christmas music while I cook and bake. And, dangit all, I am MAKING these cookies if it kills me. I just have to find some sweet rice flour first...

Be seeing you around the blogosphere!

Pronoun Usage and Same-Sex Characters

Image courtesy of FreelanceWritingGigs.com
and Comedy Central.

I learned something today. (Cue cheesy end-of-episode South Park music.)

It's probably something obvious, and it's little, but something I hadn't noticed before.

Sometimes it's difficult to decide which pronouns to use. I'm specifically referring to a close 3rd POV narrator in a scene with another character of the same gender. When do you use "he" and "she" (or "it", depending on your genre of choice)?

In this latest draft of Fighting Fate, I followed my linguistics training, adhering to supposed rules of pragmatics to dictate when I used "he/him/his" or "she/her/her" instead of proper names.

An example:

Roger took several steps toward her. Marcus tried to followed, but Roger’s hyper-awareness picked up on it right away. He paused and glanced over his shoulder at Marcus. Even if for a second, it made Marcus stop.

Here's the breakdown. In the second sentence, I used "Marcus" because, according to pragmatics, "He" should refer to Roger as the subject of the previous sentence. After "but" I used "Roger" again, because "he" would refer to Marcus. In the third sentence, "He" is Roger, being the most recent available subject to refer to. Then we get "Marcus" again, BUT it's in a prepositional phrase, so the last sentence repeats "Marcus" because the most recent SUBJECT to refer to is "Roger".

I don't think this is wrong per se, but it's clunky. Do you feel the clunky? I felt the clunkiness even while writing it, though wasn't sure how to fix it.

I sent it off to a crit partner of mine, and this is how it came back (some suggestions hers, others I adapted based on what I'd learned from several of her line-edits). Because it's a little out of context, please note that the close 3rd POV narrator is attached to Marcus in this scene.

Roger took several steps toward her. He tried to followed. Roger paused and glanced over his shoulder, his hyper-awareness tipping him off. Even if for a second, it made Marcus stop.

Less clunky, no?

But is it clear?

So the dilemma continues. I've rewritten it again, because another crit buddy was confused (and I can't say I blame her). I've changed the second "he" back to "Marcus" because pragmatically the reader is going to assume "he" to be "Roger" otherwise. Right? Or not?


So what's most important? Ditching the clunky or maintaining it for the sake of clarity? How do you deal with a close 3rd POV narrator and multiple people of the same gender in one scene? How do you use pronouns? Any advice to the poor, recovering linguist that is moi?

Blogfest... Interrupted

Today I'm participating in Blogfest...Interrupted, hosted by Sasha Conte. Thanks, Sasha, for hosting. 

On Saturday, June 26th, post a 500-1000 word scene of your characters being interrupted - doesn't matter what they're doing, doesn't matter what's interrupting them (end of the world, knock on the door, little voice in their head...), they just need to be interrupted.

So, here we go. This is an excerpt from my WIP, Fighting Fate. It's raw, not super well edited, and rather first-drafty. But, nonetheless, people are getting interrupted. All comments are welcome. Hope you enjoy it :)


Marcus arrived in his suite and glanced around. Of course he had maid service, but he still straightened a few pillows on the couches. He walked into his bedroom, making sure again that he had tidied it enough. He hadn’t felt this nervous going to Anabelle’s home. Why was he so restless now?

Finally the door to his suite opened and then shut again. He heard voices, “Is it okay now?” “Yes.” “No cameras?” “No cameras.”
 

Anabelle and Lily began to materialize, at first translucent, until the invisibility subsided.
 

“Marc?” Roger’s voice sounded from nowhere.
 

Of course. It was Marcus’s spell, so he had to be the one to remove it. It disappeared faster than Anabelle’s spell had, and from top to bottom as if a sheet had fallen off.
 

Once he became visible, Lily smacked his elbow. “You scared the frut out of me. How dare you sneak up on us all invisible like that.”
 

“What else should I have done?”
 

“I don’t know, but not that.”
 

Roger glared at her for a moment before turning to Marcus. “Something’s a-buzz. I kept getting calls on my headset, but couldn’t respond. I need to go check in and see what’s going on.”
 

“Fine,” Marcus said. “Go. We’ll be here.”
 

“Great,” Lily said. “Leave me behind as third wheel.”
 

Roger shut the door a little too hard behind him.
 

“You’re not third wheel,” Anabelle said.
 

As she spoke the words, however, her eyes told a different story. Marcus couldn’t believe how lucky he was that this beautiful commoner had had enough gumption and enough personal magic to find him, even if she hadn’t wanted to meet him. And here she stood in his suite again. Fate had played in his favor this time.
 

“Can I give you a brief tour?” he asked.
 

“I’d like that,” Anabelle said.
 

Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, give me a break.”
 

Anabelle slipped her hand through Marcus’s elbow and he led her around. He had three more rooms off of the main sitting room: his den, Roger’s office, and his bedroom. He showed her the rooms in that order, ending in the bedroom. He slipped the door shut behind him.
 

“It’s very big,” she said.
 

“I’ve heard that before.”

She shoved his chest playfully, and he grabbed her hands, pulling her close. He loved the feel of her body against pressed against his, her lips against his. Pressure hit him in two solid points against his chest where she had the stones tucked inside her bra. How had he gone so many years without her embrace? He couldn’t imagine—

A heavy knock beat against the door. “Marc! Get out here. Now.”

She pulled away. “Is that Roger?”

He would so lay into Roger later. What could be so important as to interrupt them? And so rudely?

The knock came again, louder this time. “Marc!”

Marcus felt his nostrils flare. “Coming.” He inhaled deep into his lungs before leading Anabelle out into the sitting room. “What?”

Roger and Natalie stood outside the door. Natalie said, “You are in some serious kruk right now.” Roger shoved something against his chest. Marcus took it and unrolled the newspaper—tabloid, really—until he saw the cover photo.

Any guesses as to what's in the photo?

Getting to Know Your Characters Blogfest

Welcome to my entry for the Getting to Know Your Characters Blogfest, hosted by Elizabeth Mueller and Jeannie Campbell. Thanks to both of them for hosting and the great idea behind it.

Rules: Pretend you are your MC and answer all three of the following questions.

Preface: (by Rosie)

Anabelle fought me on this. She did not want to answer these questions, and she didn’t want to feel psychoanalyzed. She just wanted to get on with her life and pretend like everything was normal instead of talking about fears and accomplishments and regret. I hope I’ve persuaded her, and she’s not jerking me around here.

Name: Anabelle Michelle Lindsky

Age: 19

Question 1: What is your greatest fear? 

Being alone and being abandoned. In my life, I only have two people, my mother Betsy and my best friend Lily. My father died when I was a baby, or maybe before I was born—my mother’s never been very clear on the matter, and I can’t ask her about it because it’s too hard for her to talk about. I see the pain she goes through every day after having the love of her life snatched away from her, and I know I can’t endure what she does. I try not to let people into my life, though that got turned on its ear and I’ve had no choice. All I can hope is that I withstand the coming events without losing my loved ones.

Question 2: What is your biggest accomplishment?

Ha! Okay. This is great. Lily and I got to start wearing bras in fourth grade, whether there was anything to hold in place or not. Nothing was more important than wearing one, at least among the girls. The boys made fun, of course, because that’s what boys do. And there was this guy, Lionel Davis. He told all the other boys that I had let him see my bra during recess. The next day a bunch of boys from our class cornered me on the way outside after lunch, asking to see my bra. I sucker punched one in the gut, and refused. Of course, if Lionel had gotten to see it, why couldn’t they? I ran away.

No, that’s not the accomplishment. Hold on!

The next day I was so angry. The boys kept teasing me, loud enough for the teacher to shush them. I wanted to die, I was so embarrassed. At lunch, I found a pack of Hostess cupcakes in my lunch, and felt the peck of inspiration, and then made the fateful mistake of whispering the idea to Lily. She found it so hilarious that when I hesitated, she dared me to do it. “What?” she asked, “Are you chicken?”

Lionel sat two tables away. I stood, a cupcake in each hand behind my back, and marched over. I told him to get up, that I had something to show him, which inspired lots of ooooohhs and aaaahs from both the girls’ and boys’ tables. The girls behind me could see what I had in my hands, but the boys couldn’t. Lionel stood, a huge grin on his face. In retrospect, he probably had a crush on me, but it wouldn’t last long. When he faced me, I shoved each of the cupcakes against his chest, smearing brown cake all over his white polo shirt. I mounded the cupcakes as best I could and stood back. “Looks like you need your own bra,” I said, “so quit trying to look at mine.”

I got suspended for three days. My mom wouldn’t talk to me for days without yelling. She had to take off work one day because she couldn’t afford a babysitter. I felt horrible for disappointing her, but something had to be done.

On the other hand, that was the first dare I’ve ever taken from Lily. I’ve never refused a dare since. I just try to make sure my dares don’t affect my mom the way the first did.

Question 3: What is your biggest regret?

This is hard one to answer because I have quite a few. I regret not using magic on Lionel Davis to make those brown cupcake mounds stick, because they fell off before the principal arrived. I regret going to prom with Sammy Gilespie because of his grabby fingers and post-prom expectations. I regret turning James Bunnell down when he asked me to prom because Lily had wanted him to ask her (but so had I, and then neither of us went with him).

But, I guess if I have to pick just one, my biggest regret would be not enjoying time with my mom as much as I should. I love my mom, of course, but when I was in high school I didn’t think it was cool to hang out with her. Now that I’m in college, I don’t see her much even though I live at home. I just wish I’d appreciated my time with her before my life turned upside down.


Don't forget to check out the other entries in the Blogfest. Go to Elizabeth Mueller's blog for a list of all the participants.

What about you? What are your characters' biggest fears, accomplishments, or regrets?

What's the Score Blogfest, and Some Thanks

Happy June 1st. Today's my nephew's birthday, so I want to send a shout out to him.

Happy Birthday, Gabe!

Also, yesterday was my one-year blogiversary. It's hard to believe I've been blogging for a year, and I can see a huge difference in the way I blog then and now. Also in the way I write. I'm lucky to have stumbled into this bloggy world, to have made the friends I've made, and to have learned everything I've learned so far. You're all a part of that, and so I say

THANK YOU!

I could go in to thanking particular people, but that would take the entire next year, and the music just started playing, and they will soon usher me offstage. So, please know that you're all awesome and amazing, and I appreciate each of you for your individual creativity and spirit.

So, uh, Blogfest anyone?

In celebration of my blogiversary, I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than with a blogfest. There are even prizes, and there's still time to play. Haven't signed up yet? Is it past midnight in your timezone? No worries. Send me an email at rlconnolly [at] gmail.com and I'll add your name to the Linky List.

What can you win? Check out the announcement. And stop by on Monday, June 6th, when I'll reveal the winners!

What's My Score?

I love my WIP. I've spent years with it, so I ought to. I think about it when I'm walking to and from classes and work, and the soundtrack makes it easier for me to concentrate (and aren't you glad I'm thinking about my WIP instead of oncoming traffic?).

Here are a few of the best songs from my soundtrack. While I have a huge one for the entire three-book series, I tried to stick to songs that apply to book 1, since that's what I'm slaving over right now.


"Had to Go" by the Heartless Bastards
A few lines in this song sound as if they had been written with my WIP in mind.

"Winter Blue" by Heather Nova
I had my iPod on shuffle and this came on. I just about stumbled with how well it seemed to fit, and then I added it to my playlist.

"Everything She Does Is Magic" by the Police
Cliche? Maybe. I don't care. :)

"Starlight" by Muse
This song sounds like my male MC talking to me.

"Paparazzi" by Lady Gaga
Minus the line about eyeliner, this works pretty well, too. (I didn't pick the official video to link here, though, because I just don't get it.)

"Fool's Gold" by Lhasa de Sela
It's not so much the words to this song (although they kind of work) but the mood. Not to mention that her voice is one of the most amazing I've heard in my lifetime.

"Weird Fishes" and "15 Steps" by Radiohead
Wish I could explain these. They just move me and make me think of my WIP.

"Conspiracy" by Paramore
Okay, maybe this one doesn't ONLY apply to the first of the three. It applies to the whole thing.

What about you? What's your score?

Don't forget to visit the other participants today!

First Two Pages

So, yeah, I mentioned last week that I felt I had lost my mojo. My posting this doesn't necessarily negate that. In fact, it took me quite a while to work through this.

Anyway, here's my question, folks: How's the hook? Do you feel hooked? I didn't like the opening to the last version of this, and this version will keep me from having to do severally massive rewrites (though there are always TONS of rewrites, no?). That aside, if you don't like it, that's okay, too. I'm still learning/teaching myself what works.

Any comments or critiques are more than welcome. Thanks for reading.

Fighting Fate, beginning of Chap 1 (465 words)

My Anabelle Lindsky

Anabelle watched in the mirror as her reflection disappeared. Before it dissolved completely, she squared her shoulders. A shudder ran over her spine. She swallowed her fear. She could no longer see herself, only the floral wallpaper behind her.
 

The moment of truth. She turned to the door and opened it as little as possible. In the hallway, she walked on the sides of her feet, trying to keep her dress shoes quiet. Another pair of shoes slapped the ground behind her.She flattened herself against the wall and held her breath until he turned a corner. She kept her eyes on that corner. How had she become such a coward? If she planned to do this, she needed to do it right. She pushed herself away from the wall and continued down the hall.
 

She slid past another guard at the entrance to the restricted areas. The Mansion’s walls glowed a brighter yellow than the halls she’d seen on the tour earlier. The cherry wood tables and chairs, which lined the walls in the public areas, were absent here. She worried she might get lost in the restricted area with no identifiable landmarks of furniture. She tried keeping a map in her head of the turns she took, but direction had never been her skill—no matter how much magic she injected into a mental map.
 

Instead of worrying about it, she focused on the magic she knew she could control. Invisibility. Seeking. She’d used it in middle school to avoid the mean girls. She’d used it in high school to avoid the teachers she didn’t like. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it to find the person she sought instead of avoid. She concentrated on her limited knowledge of her target—his physique, his personality, his likes and dislikes—and hoped she could get a trace on him.
 

She’d never used her seeking abilities on someone she hadn’t met before.
 

She continued wandering the halls until she sensed him behind a door. She backtracked around a corner and spotted a surveillance camera. In order to talk to him, she would have to become visible again, but she couldn’t do that in front of a camera. She’d never tried to disrupt electronic equipment, and she hoped she could manage. She reached up until she reached the wires behind the camera. She imagined the the last thirty seconds playing on a loop, a continual visual of nothing, and said a silent prayer to her guiding spirits for help.
 

Her throat constricted and she reached to tug at her collar. She’d never felt comfortable with things around her neck—turtleneck sweaters, tight necklaces, even her fingers to check her pulse. Despite the shaking in her chest, she listened for the door to open and prepared to drop her invisibility.

Visionary (#atozchallenge)

Welcome to today's post on the A-to-Z Blogging Challenge. My challenge, as I have chosen to accept it, is thus: I have asked on my Facebook and Twitter accounts for people to contribute random words beginning with today's letter. From Random.org, I have selected one of these words, and will below challenge myself to connect said word to writing.

For the letter V, I received 54 suggestions. Random.org selected number 9: visionary.


Visionary

When I first started writing again, I had a vision. No, literally, a vision. Well, okay, it wasn't one of those show-my-destiny-through-mental-images vision, but it was a message my brain wanted to tell me. A repeated scene in my head over and over. My psyche whispering to me in my dreams. Too bad my psyche really wanted to scare the pants off of me... and succeeded, to be sure.

But this vision turned into something. It's the climax in my first (hefty) manuscript, something that no one will ever see but me, one supportive friend, and my super-supportive sister-in-law. But that's not the point.

The point is that we're all visionaries in our own worlds. We create from nothing but the synapses in that gray matter under our skull and some personal experiences. We have visions.

Yeah, yeah, are you bored with my "we're the awesomest" speech yet?

I bring this up because sometimes the original vision isn't the best. My writing instructor once told us that revision and re-vision aren't the same thing, and I believe her. I've seen it in action. Sometimes moving scenes around and editing the syntax aren't enough to provide the best story within us. Sometimes you have to delete a third of a novel and rewrite it, re-visioning how it should play out. Sometimes you have to rethink a character's actions. If, upon further inspection, that character wouldn't do that huge action that creates the tension for the rest of the novel, then something needs to be re-visioned.

I'm currently rewriting the first, oh, third (the number above was either arbitrary or subconsciously apt) of my novel Fighting Fate. The original was poor. The tension lagged. People did some stuff, but, eh, people do stuff all the time. This time around, though, I'm rethinking everything, including the backstory, to get them where they need to go. And, if I do say so myself (*dusting off shoulders*), it's not too bad.

Ever had to re-vision your work? How far are you willing to go to rewrite your fiction/poetry? Are you willing to scrap everything but your basic characters and start over? How much re-visioning is too much?

Usual Suspects (#atozchallenge)

PS (in this case, pre-script)--My Mondays and Wednesdays have me running around without good internet access all day until 9pm EST (US). I'll get back to you, but it might be late tonight. 

Today's post is a little different from my other 25 for the A-to-Z Blogging Challenge, because I'm trying to do double duty. I know, I know. Shame on me. Maybe I'm cheating a little, but I don't think so. Maybe it's more like positive time management :)

Anyway, today is U for the A-to-Z Challenge.

It's also the Now Starring... Blogfest.

So, today, I give you my Usual Suspects.

Courtesy of Wiki Commons

Here's my ideal cast of Fighting Fate, my work in progress. These are only the major players for Book 1. Anyone else I'll have to save for another time.

Anabelle Lindsky, played by Emma Roberts. 
Anabelle, 19, is a lively girl, impulsive and playful. Emma Roberts physically looks the most like how I picture Anabelle in my mind. I'm not positive I've ever seen Roberts on screen, so I can't say much about her acting. She just needs a pair of blue contacts.

Prince Marcus, played by Chace Crawford.

Marcus, 21, has little interest in what the royal family wants from him. He's rebellious, but in his own subtle way. Not only does Crawford look like my ideal Marcus, but his attitude and his acting making me think he'd do well.

Admittedly, it was a toss up between Crawford and Zac Efron, but Crawford won out.

Lily Yasukawa, played by Aya Ueto.

Lily is spunky and nuts, and drives Anabelle to do things she wouldn't do of her own accord. She puts up with not nonsense, and it's in your best interest not to lie to her. She has her ways of making you regret it.

Roger McKilthy, played by Jake Gyllenhaal.

Roger is Marcus's bodyguard. Serious and stoic, and, well, hot. Yup. Roger's muscle and hotness, and I can't think of anyone better than Gyllenhaal to do that. Oh, yeah, he's a good actor, too :)

Betsy Lindsky, played by Charisma Carpenter.

Anabelle's mother is beautiful and spunky. Who better than Carpenter to play that role?

Then again, it's hard for me to think of Carpenter as her own age after habitually watching Buffy. To me, even at 41, she's a HS student! But in my WIP, she'd be playing her actual age.

Queen Renee, played by Helena Bonham Carter.

I think Helena Bonham Carter is so incredibly beautiful, even when she's playing an evil Death Eater. The woman has so much poise and charisma, she would be a perfect Queen. 

Eric and Camilla, Archduke and Archduchess, played by Alan Tudyk and Gina Torres.

They have such great chemistry in Firefly and Serenity, and they both fit the bill physically for my mental image, so I'd love it if they could play my Duke and Duchess, too (just in less cowboy-meets-outer-space-type clothing).

Princess Natalie, played by Summer Glau.

Okay, I never watched the Terminator series. My devotion to Glau comes from all things Joss Whedon. Natalie's character is a little crazy, a lot blunt, and just enough off the mainstream that Glau seemed the perfect fit. Plus, Glau's dance experience could come in handy in Book 2. *wink* 

Lady Zoe, played by Amanda Bynes.

Zoe is blonde, beautiful, and voluptuous. Of all the characters I've listed here, she's about the only one who hasn't changed.












Who would you cast for your novel?

Rutilated (#atozchallenge)

Welcome to today's post on the A-to-Z Blogging Challenge. My challenge, as I have chosen to accept it, is thus: I have asked on my Facebook and Twitter accounts for people to contribute random words beginning with today's letter. From Random.org, I have selected one of these words, and will below challenge myself to connect said word to writing.

For the letter L, I received 39 suggestions. Random.org selected number 35: rutilated.


Rutilated

Okay, I'll admit it. I had to look this up. My friends have taken it upon themselves (I think) to stump me with some of their words. (I really should have done this before taking the GRE several years ago.)

What got me was when this word wasn't in my dictionary.

So, despite my complaining about it a couple of weeks ago, I went to (*gasp*) Wikipedia.

Image courtesy of Wiki Commons.

"Rutile is a mineral composed primarily of titanium dioxide, TiO₂... Rutile derives its name from the Latin rutilus, red, in reference to the deep red color observed in some specimens when viewed by transmitted light."

In the spirit of crystals, and red ones at that, I've decided today to tell you a little bit more about the magic in my novel Fighting Fate. If you read my entry for the Nature of Magic blogfest, or my entry for the Query Letter blogfest, you might have noticed that I need to spell out some details. So, here goes.

The source of magic in the story comes from two stones—one red, one blue—each given to one of the sons of the first king to find the true nature of personal magic. Each ancestor of the two brothers, Elmore and Aldred, was ensured some piece of that magic as long as the stones exist. This is "myth" to some, and the stones are kept hidden, under the protection of the ultimate head of each branch of the family, usually the king or queen. The stone chooses (sort of) the head of the family because it will increase that person's magic if it is touch his or her skin.

However, since it's a myth, many people in the story either don't know about it or don't believe it. They take their magic for granted. Because of the stones, only descendants of the two brothers have access to this magic. There's another kind of magic, when magicless people try to control the magic within the earth for their own purposes, but it's as violent as an unbroken horse, and leads to mystical, incurable injury in almost all cases.

So, when Prince Marcus discovers a commoner who has magic, he becomes suspicious. He feels compelled to discover her secret, be it either her tricks for taming the magic of the earth, or which branch of the family she comes from. When she insists it's neither, he only decides to pursue the issue harder.

Thanks for reading, folks.

What issues have you needed to sort out recently? How do you outline your thoughts? Do you freewrite on the computer or a journal? Do you talk out the issues with a friend or family member?

Today I'm taking suggestions for the letter X. Have any? Leave them below. Thanks!

P is for Query (#atozchallenge)

No, I'm not confused. Well, not about my post, anyway.  Today I'm participating in the Query Letter Blogfest, hosted by Alicia, Erinn, Holly, Pam, Quita. Tomorrow I will post my letter P. I figured it would be okay to switch the days, since they were so close together. Moderators? Am I out of line? :)

So, today I'm posting my query blurb for Fighting Fate. I'm currently in the midst of substantial (painful) edits, which is why I've left the word count blank. It's wrought with problems, so hack away. PLEASE!



Dear ________,

When a dare causes Anabelle Lindsky to use her magic and sneak into the restricted area of the royal Mansion, she only wants to say she’d met Prince Marcus. After she gains his attention, however, Marcus decides to pursue this daredevil commoner with her sky blue eyes and unexplained magic abilities. The odd magnetism between them makes it impossible for either to resist the other.

Anabelle didn’t realize that her stunt would also attract the attention of the violent, impulsive Queen. The Queen’s knowledge of a prophecy about the two young adults forces her to keep Anabelle and Marcus apart, no matter how drastic the measures. After the Queen suggests a threat to Anabelle’s life, the couple run without any knowledge of the prophecy. Anabelle and Marcus must decide if their attraction is worth the risk of avoiding the Queen’s wrath, unaware that the stability of their lives and the nation depends on their decision.

Fighting Fate, a New Adult Romance/Urban Fantasy novel of about XX,000 words, is the first of a three-part series, though it can stand alone.

(Personalization goes here)

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
Rosie Connolly


UPDATE

Here's a second draft. Hopefully I've addressed some of the issues. I'm not afraid of comments and know this is really rough, so don't hold back, folks. I can take it.

And thank you!


When a dare causes Anabelle Lindsky to use her magic and sneak into the restricted area of the royal Mansion, she only wants to meet Prince Marcus. For reasons he can’t explain, he saves her from being discovered by security. After she gains his attention, however, Marcus decides to pursue this daredevil commoner with her sky blue eyes and unexplained magic abilities. What neither of them could have anticipated was that their meeting and future relationship had been foretold as the first in a series of events leading to civil war and the destruction of the nation.

Anabelle didn’t realize that her stunt would also attract the attention of the violent, impulsive Queen. The Queen’s knowledge of the prophecy forces her to keep Anabelle and Marcus apart in order to maintain her control, no matter how drastic the measures. After the Queen suggests a threat to Anabelle’s life, the couple run without any knowledge of the prophecy. Anabelle and Marcus must decide if their attraction is worth the risk of avoiding the Queen’s wrath, unaware that the stability of their lives and the nation depends on their decision.

Frak (#atozchallenge)

Welcome to today's post on the A-to-Z Blogging Challenge. My challenge, as I have chosen to accept it, is thus: I have asked on my Facebook and Twitter accounts for people to contribute random words beginning with today's letter. From Random.org, I have selected one of these words, and will below challenge myself to connect said word to writing.

For the letter F, I received 63 suggestions. Random.org selected number 10: frak.


Frak

What the frak am I talking about? Frak's not a real word. How could this end up as the topic of my blog post today?

Frak, as you may or may not know, is the swear word of choice for the characters from Battlestar Gallactica. According to Wikipedia, I can mean any of our three main 4-letter words (you know, starting with F, S, and D, respectively) for the poor victims of the Cylon Wars. And the best part about the word "frak"?

It doesn't get bleeped.

Creating terms for our fiction can be useful, especially with profanity, as it's not as necessary to define it. The meaning of expletives can be gleaned by the reader by context alone, without lengthy exposition. For example, in my own fiction, my characters have two main swear words: "sprick" as in "that sprickin' jerk" or just plain "Sprick!" and "frut", which is more of a noun and less a verb.

Other words may require greater explanation. In my own personal writing journey, I recently discovered this during the Nature of Magic Blogfest, hosted by Tessa Conte and Laura Diamond In this excerpt, my character "veiled" herself. In my mind, that was perfectly clear—she used magic to create a false image around her (in this case, the image of nothing at all), kind of like putting a jacket on a book. What I hadn't anticipated was that other people would read this as meaning "invisibility cloak". What does that mean? I didn't define my term well enough.

Back to the drawing board for me :)

Do you coin new terms in your fiction? What kinds of terms? Profanity, or basic penny words?

PS--Today I'm taking suggestions for J. Have some? Leave them below. 

Lost and Found Blogfest

Today I'm participating in the Lost and Found Blogfest, hosted by Myne Whitman to celebrate her reaching 500 followers. Congratulations, Myne!

As you can see, the task is to write about something you've lost and (re)found. So here's my story. It involves finding two things at different intervals. Two for the price of one :)

WARNING: This story is somewhat personal, discusses dark material, and eludes to violence (though imaginary/from a dream). Please read with caution.


My father and I were very close, especially after I went away to college. So, several years after I graduated, when he was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer on July 3, 2008, I broke. Broke down. Completely. I'm the only child and daddy's little girl, and this destroyed my world. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. And when he died on October 1—only a couple of days before my birthday—it all got worse. The walking dead seemed animated in comparison to me. I stared at the TV without any idea what I was watching, and lost close to 40 pounds in about three months.

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

That's when my nightmares began. One in particular plagued me night after night. I stand on a beach, my jeans rolled up to my knees as the waves swallow my feet over and over. I'm not prepared, though I know what's coming. And from nowhere, I'm attacked. Literally, from thin air. Over and over. I'll spare you the details, but the pain would continue for what seemed like an eternity before I would wake in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming.

This dream tortured me night after night for at least a month. In late November or early December, I realized that the only way for me to take control of the dream would be to write it down. I needed to own it instead of it owning me. So, I did.

This is my first finding. I began writing again. I hadn't written anything beyond term papers in ten years.

Picture courtesy of http://buffy.wikia.com/

This dream became the climax in my epic Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan fiction—sort of. It involved the Buffy crew but added several new characters of my own creation, including my new MC, Edie (see Season 8 for how I could easily do this). I shared the pieces I wrote with fewer than a handful of close friends, and only the parts that were actually written. I jumped around in writing it—a lot—and my outline grew toward War and Peace-length proportions. It became unmanageable, and while I plugged along at it, it grew difficult and tiring to keep all the subplots straight.

The following July (2009), I had another idea, one that has led me to write Fighting Fate (which is its 72,482nd title). Edie and her beach sacrifice snuggled into the recesses of my Documents folder and started gathering dust.

About a week ago, I woke up thinking about Edie and her sacrifice. As my consciousness gathered strength over my dreaming mind, I realized that this story is worth saving. I can rework it, streamline it, remove the Buffy elements, and make it mine. Truly own it like I had wanted to do 2.5 years ago. I rediscovered my story. Now I think I'm going to spend a few months (re)plotting it, and potentially use it for my NaNoWriMo project in November.


Are you participating in Myne's blogfest? I'll be sure to stop by. 
Not participating? What have you lost and found again?

Nature of Magic Blogfest

Hi everyone. Today I'm participating in the Nature of Magic Blogfest, hosted by Tessa and Laura.

THE TASK:
Write or share something you've already written that, to you, shows the nature of magic. It can be an excerpt from your WIP, something you've written especially, poetry, whatever strikes your fancy. It just needs to show the nature of magic as it exists for you or for those you write about.

Considering the task, and my own rewrites of my WIP—which you haven't heard about much as of late with all the blogfesting going on—I had hoped to have a certain conversation between two of my characters ready, in which they discuss being raised and trained in their magic. However, it's not ready.

*head-smack*

Instead, I give you this. It's from my first chapter. This is the first magic the reader sees.


From: Fighting Fate (New Adult, Urban Fantasy/Romance)
Chapter 1, second scene

After an hour, Anabelle started feeling restless. They’d seen a model of the throne room—not even the real one—and the living quarters of the former Duke and Duchess—the parents of the Queen’s husband, the dead King Nathaniel. Lily had been right. The tour showed nothing interesting.
 

So when they passed a bathroom, Anabelle tapped Lily’s hand and slipped inside without notifying the pink umbrella. She waited until her watch ticked past two numbers before she prepared herself. Watching the mirror to be sure, she invoked her magic and cast a veil over her body. She examined the veil as her reflection disappeared. She spun in several directions, checking that the veil left no toe or belt buckle visible. Once satisfied, she slipped out the bathroom door and turned away from the direction of the group.
 

She walked on the sides of her feet, trying to keep her dress shoes quiet. When a guard stomped toward her, she flattened herself against the wall and held her breath until he turned a corner. She kept her eyes on that corner. How had she become such a coward? If she planned to do this, she needed to do it properly. She pushed herself away from the wall and continued down the hall.
 

She slid past another guard at the entrance to the restricted areas. The walls around her glowed a brighter yellow than the halls she’d seen on the tour, and the cherry wood tables and chairs—which lined the walls in the public areas—were absent here. She worried she might got lost back here with no identifiable landmarks of furniture. She tried keeping a map in her head of the turns she took, but direction had never been her skill, no matter how much magic she injected into a mental map.
 

Instead of worrying about it, she focused on the magic she knew she could control. Seeking. She’d used it in middle school to avoid the mean girls. She’d used it in high school to avoid the teachers she didn’t like. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it to find the person she sought instead of avoid. She concentrated on her limited knowledge of the Prince—his physique, his personality, his likes and dislikes—and hoped she could get a trace on him.
 

She continued wandering the halls until she sensed him behind a door. She backtracked around a corner and spotted a surveillance camera. This kind of magic she had never tried before, and she hoped she could manage. She reached up until she could reach the wires at the back of the camera. She imagined the the last thirty seconds playing on a loop, a continual visual of nothing.
 

Her throat constricted and she reached to tug at her collar. Despite the shaking in her chest, she listened for the door to open and prepared to drop the veil.


Thanks for coming by and reading. If you have any comments for me, I'm more than welcome to them. If you'd like to share something beyond the comment box, you can email me at rlconnolly01 [at] gmail.com.

PS--Starting next week, I will be posting on Tuesday and Thursday, and Friday begins the A to Z Blogging Challenge.

Catch Me If You Can Blogfest

First, remember to join Charity, myself, and our other awesome participants for the HONE YOUR SKILLS Blogfest on March 16th (next Wednesday). One short story of 750 words (no more than 1000), and help from your fellow bloggers to HONE it to its best shape. It will help you develop your skills as well as bring thoughtful feedback so you can feel confident enough to send it for publication (if you want, of course).

Second, today is my mom's Birthday! Happy Birthday, Mom!! :)

What else is going on TODAY? I'm participating in the CATCH ME IF YOU CAN Blogfest, hosted by Kristina at KayKay's Corner.

The basics:
On Monday March 7, post the first 550 words (or less) of your WIP on your blog. If you can, leave a link to your email address* in case someone has an especially long critique.

So, here it is. This is the latest new beginning of my WIP, THE MONARCHY'S LIES (although the title is still tentative). The 550 word limit is hard, since my first chapter is only 850 words, and a lot of the tension is in those last 300 words. Aw, well. If it's not in the first two pages, it's my problem, not yours, right?

Email address is at the bottom. Thanks, folks :)

Chapter 1
I sat in my seat, tugging at the tight collar around my neck. I hated collars. In fact, I hated anything on my neck—turtleneck sweaters, tight necklaces, even my fingers to check my pulse—but today I would endue anything on my neck. Anything to get to the Mansion.

I checked my watch. “We should have left already,” I said.

My best friend Lily sat in the desk next to mine. “Relax,” she said. “You’ll get to see your beloved prince soon enough.”

“Whatever.” I yanked the collar straight away from my throat. Any second now, it planned to strangle me. I just knew it.

“Oh, don’t give me that line,” she said. “You’d swoon just like any other girl if you got within 10 feet of him and you know it.”
 
I rolled my eyes. “Be still my sprickin’ heart.”
 
“Anabelle Lindsky!”
 
I jumped as Ms. Crawlee’s voice boomed above my head.
 
“Detention. Tomorrow.” She passed me and continued down the aisle.
 
“For what?” I asked.
 
“For swearing.”
 
“Ugh.” I fell back in my chair.
 
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Lily whispered, giggling.
 
I crossed my arms over my chest. The gesture moved the fabric of my shirt, and brought back that choking sensation. I reached my hand up again to tug at the collar.
 
Lily batter my hand away. “Knock it off. You’re gonna stretch it out.”
 
“That wouldn’t be so bad.” I tugged again.
 
“Except it’s your mom’s.” She grabbed my wrist until I stopped fighting.
 
Ms. Crawlee hushed the room. “I’m passing out a worksheet—  Quiet! The front you’ll need to finish on the bus, the back during the tour. You’ll turn them back in to me when we return to the bus in the afternoon.”
 
Figured. I took the stack of papers from the guy in front of me and passed on the rest. A quick scan of the worksheet told me Ms. Crawlee hadn’t asked any stumpers, but had created busy work for the bus ride so the student wouldn’t get rowdy. I looked at the back. She’d asked for specifics, information that she hadn’t covered in class yet. I figured I could fill out the entire worksheet on the bus and listen during the tour in case I’d missed any.
 
Aw, who was I kidding? I wouldn’t miss any. My memory spells never failed me, and I knew everything ever written on royal history.
 
A few minutes later, we’d boarded the bus, which now rumbled down the highway. I scribbled my answers on the worksheet, knowing Ms. Crawlee wouldn’t be looking for massive detail. I could feel Lily looking over my shoulder as I wrote.
 
“I hate you and your memory spells,” she said.
 
“Shh.” I looked around to see if anyone heard her.
 
“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for the rest of us if people knew,” she said. “You’d quit throwing off the curve.”
 
“If I wanted to throw off the curve, I’d have graduated five years ago.” I focused on the next question.
 
“You don’t think you’ll be too bored during the field trip, do you?” Lily asked, and I could sense her sarcasm. “I mean, you won’t have to listen for the answers like the rest of us commoners.”
 
“I’ll be listening.”
 
“No, no, you’ll be bored senseless.”
 
I turned my body in the seat to face her, seeing the plot brewing inside her green eyes. “What are you thinking?”


Thanks again for reading. Post below or email me at rlconnolly01 [at] gmail [dot] com with any crit you might have.

Happiness is a Warm Draft

For some reason the original Beatles song is running through my head. I felt compelled.

This will be short for many reasons, the biggest of which is I'm running late and don't have much time, but I wanted to be sure to post today.

First, Nathan Bransford will be posting the finalists for his Stupendously Ultimate First Paragraph Challenge sometime today. Hop over to his blog to read and vote for the finalists.

[poor segue]

So I mentioned last week that I have gone back to revising my first WIP. I realized I had to completely change the backstory to make the present story more believable. Well, in the process, my brain has been ON FIRE, creating this trajectory for my MCs. So much fun!

This morning, in my half-awake-half-asleep, please-don't-bother-me-because-the-sun's-not-up-yet state, I was plotting out a scene in a park with my four main characters. Now bear in mind that, in my original draft, the story is told in 1st person. Well, my imagination took me to a place where my supporting male character separated from the rest of the group—or security reasons, of course—and my mind followed him. The scene evolved, and not only did I like it, but I realized it might be rather crucial.

Thus, a new draft was born (I believe this one is marked number 592, give or take a few hundred). I started working on it yesterday morning, and wrote over 1000 words yesterday in time that I didn't have to be working on it. But when the fire is lit, it's hard to contain, no?

So, in the spirit of Nathan Bransford's Stupendously Ultimate First Paragraph Challenge, I give to you my new and latest first paragraph.

Title: The Monarchy's Lies #592 (title subject to change, since I don't like it anymore)

Genre: YA Romance/Urban Fantasy

Anabelle Lindsky tugged at the collar of her shirt. She’d never felt comfortable with things around her neck—turtleneck sweaters, tight necklaces, even her fingers to check her pulse—but today was different. Today she would endure anything to get to the Mansion.

And, folks, I promise I'll get off my editing/revising kick soon. I'm just so excited about how this is going for me that I need to share. Thanks for reading. :)

What person do you normally use to narrate? 1st/2nd/3rd? Do you jump back and forth? Do you just know which will work best? How do you decide? Have you ever written something completely, and then started over in another POV?

ReEdited Again

So I got no reading done this weekend on my stack of novels and memoirs. I printed off my first WIP last Wednesday (11pt font, .5" margins, 1.5 spacing).  I hadn't looked at the thing since before NaNo and had honestly forgotten many things about it.

For reference, especially since a handful of you awesome readers are new after Alex J. Cavanaugh's awesome Top Ten Music Blogfest on Monday (Welcome! And thanks again to Alex for hosting :) I must tell you the brief history of me and this WIP. I started it on 18 July 2009 (don't ask why I know the date; I just do) and worked tirelessly on it and its two sequels until all three were written at close to 450K in March 2010 (don't know this date, though). And then I never let go. And I didn't let go. And I didn't let go. I didn't start anything new...

Well, no, that's not entirely true. I worked on something akin to garbage for about 10 days, which amounted close to 50K of stylistic nonsense. Even the plot was pretty boring. But even so, I couldn't take my mind off of the first WIPx3.

So, like every idealistic new writer, I put my first 250 words on Nathan Bradsford's blog for critique (my entry has not yet been selected), and my first 5 pages up on WriteOnCon.

A. Sobering. Experience.

After only one person critiques my first 5 pages on WriteOnCon, without holding back and essentially telling me the idea had merit but the execution stank like rotten composting roasting on an open fire, I snapped back to reality. I got involved in a critique group, found a fabulous individual critique partner from it, and rewrote the whole thing.

Then it sat. I stopped looking at it in the middle of October. I did NaNo, finished my semester, started another project, and then realized I could finally get back to the original.

On Friday I read 1 chapter. I didn't get any further than that.

That was enough. I realized how all entirely completely utterly horribly wrong some of the basic foundational material was. While the main plot works okay, I have to entirely rework my backstory. I need to make it more relatable.

People had made this suggestion before, but I hadn't been ready to hear it. Three months away from my WIP, and I think I'm ready. We'll see how it goes.

In the meantime, for the three of you who might have read a little bit of it, here's a shot of Emma Roberts (courtesy of EmmaRoberts.net), which is how I picture my MC, Anabelle (minus the blowing of the hair, of course, unless Olivia's around).

How do you edit? Have you had any editorial surprises? How long do you wait before you return to your WIP? How much overhaul do you take to your work? (Please don't tell me that it's perfect the first time! I might have a brain spasm.)

Notes on Revision

As you may (or may not) recall from December, I've been reading Stephen King's On Writing. There are two major reasons why I'm still reading it. First, I went on a reading binge over winter break—7 books in 19 days—which was amazing, but I limited my reads mainly to fiction. Second, every time I pick up King's book and read a section, I want to grab my computer and write! Not too helpful in keeping up the reading stamina.

My latest insight from Mr. King has to do with WHEN to revise. He suggests leaving your baby on the sidelines until you've all but forgotten about it. It's the writer's version of the "old" adage, mentioned in the movie Swingers—she won't call until he's completely forgotten about her. King suggests a minimum of 6-8 weeks apart from your latest prodigal work.

I had promised myself at least a month away from my NaNo work before revising it, but over the break I cheated a little. I tried working on it one morning and I'll tell you, it was PAINFUL. The whole thing continually frustrated me. I didn't get very far, to say the least.

King also suggests working on something else in between the original write and the revising. Something that can easily fill in the time slot between draft 1 and draft 2. Something that's completely different from the original project in question. So I've been working on this new dystopian, post-apocalyptic YA mumbo-jumbo that, unfortunately, for the first time for me, has no set ending in my mind. I mean, the mental outline is coming along, developing some decent plot twists, and the basic stuff at the beginning isn't going to make or break the ending, but I'm in personal uncharted territory. And it's scary. And it's hard.

I'll push through, though. Don't worry.

But with all of this, the funny bit is that I did set aside something before NaNo, and I have all but forgotten about it. It didn't even occur to me to go back and revise it until I read this section in King's book. My first big piece (that doesn't fall into the FanFic category) is sitting on my hard drive, all but forgotten, waiting for me to come back and edit it up. I can read it as if it had been written by someone else, rip it up, and decide if I want to market it or not. I might be able to do a better job with fresher eyes.

So, to summarize:

• Monarchy's Lies (currently in search of a new title): ready for the knife.
• Demon (also in search of a new title): desperately needing some time on the sidelines.
• Underground (working title, but, knowing me, it'll probably change): causing pain and anguish; still working on the mental outline; trying my hand at chapter 4.

What's your strategy for revising? Do you wait until you can look at a piece with "stranger's eyes" before revising? Do you have any revision secrets you can share?

To Prologue or Not To Prologue?

*sigh*

I recently joined an online critique group, and gave them my latest rewrite of the first 4 pages of WiP #1.  The latest rewrite has seen me scrapping the first 3 chapters, and starting at the height of the initial action.  But there was one catch.

What's going on?  Where does this take place?  Is this our world or another one?

Yeowch!  Too many questions are left outstanding, but need to be answered earlier.

I don't want to reintroduce three chapters (approx. 10K words) of backtory.  So, the question is, what do I do to make things clear early enough in the story while still avoiding large paragraphs of exposition?

Here was my thought, and I don't know how much I like it.  A prologue.  Now, everyone and their agent's mother says not to prologue, so I'm torn.  At the moment I have 1 page of prologue, approx. 260 words, introducing one key historical moment of background, still trying to capture the reader's attention.

One potential problem is that the prologue has to be told through a 3rd person omniscient narrator.  The rest of the story is (currently) 1st person.  I recently read a book that did this, and it didn't feel problematic to me, but my hubby (the lit PhD) was concerned about the transition.

Of course, the other problem seems to be that prologues are loathed and, by some, seem to be considered a sign of bad writing.  I don't exactly want to introduce myself that way, that's for sure.  I'm just not sure what else to do. 

So, folks, what do you think?  Do you prologue?  Do you hate prologues?  How do you feel about the narrator transition from one to the other?  Am I committing a mortal literary sin here?

When In Doubt, Throw Everything Out and Start Over

Whew!

WriteOnCon was an intense ride.  I learned so much in such a short period (3 days!).  Top that off with the final for my intensive summer class (as of Thursday I am officially class-free for two weeks!), and my already slushy mind simply melted into sticky sugar water.  I'm still trying to piece everything together and make sense of it.

One post (series) that impacted me from the conference was from agent Weronika Janczuk (and if I didn't love her from her posts, I would because her name is Polish!) on pacing and plotting—click here for part 1, part 2, and part 3.  I focused on her descriptions of plot arcs, what should happen in the first 1/4, the middle 1/2, and the last 1/4 of the novel, how to build tension, etc., etc., and applied it to my current painful revisions of WiP #1.

I'm not willing to admit that my first round for WiP #1 didn't somewhat conform to the formula set forth in these posts.  It did.  But I believe it can be better.  Scratch that.  While it does conform to the increasing tension and tight climax in the last 10%, it's a mediocre story at best, and a complete overhaul will help it shine.

Add to Weronika's posts this vlog by author Kimberly Derting.  I don't write YA thriller/suspense, but that doesn't mean there aren't ample lessons in this vlog on how to build suspense that can be applied to any genre.  As I contemplated Kimberly's words with Weronika's echoing in my sugary mind, ideas of suspense-building mingled with my pondering of story arcs, and I realized, huh, this could be more suspenseful.

My story is told in 1st person (for now).  In the "original" story, my MC finds out some key information less than halfway through the story.  I realized I could increase the suspense by delaying her discovery.  I've been outlining for a couple of days now a complete overhaul of the story, trying to put the events in a proper order to delay discovery, continually increase the tension, and raise the stakes in the climax.

Finally, I'd like to throw into the mix this post from Helen Ginger's post on the Blood Red Pencil—Writers are Hookers.  Beyond the inevitable giggle this invokes in me (yeah, even a few days later), she makes a beautiful point about where the story (and each scene) needs to begin.  After reviewing my first 4-6 chapters for over a month now, I'm almost willing to throw out the first two chapters.  They are mostly background information, and I know that.  I hesitate because I feel like it's important, but we all know that this information can be incorporated later.  And some of it has been moved through recent, pre-overhaul revisions, meaning that leaving it upfront is redundant.

To risk getting a little weepy, part of my hesitation in the complete overhaul is strongly personal.  This story began as a part of my recovery process after my father passed away.  While a strong part of me yearns to be professional and know what needs to get slashed and burnt to make this puppy publishable, deep down I want to leave it, considering it a sacred tribute to my dad.  It's a little silly—my father's nowhere to be seen in the entire story—but that doesn't stop the emotional connection and the need to protect my baby from the red-line.

What I've decided, based on this final post by Jennifer Hubbard, is that I don't have to throw anything away.  (Okay, I knew that, but it's nice to have the reinforcement.)  I can keep the sacred version of my story, the one that makes me think of my struggle and my progress in recovery, and I don't have to share it with anyone but myself.  I can love it and baby it and wrap it in a huge security blanket and save it from the big, bad publishing world forever.  But I can also take the bones, the deep structure (Snicker, GB linguistics out there! Snicker!), the character histories, etc., and weave them together with this new and improved baby, one that I'm willing to raise and help mature into an undeniable force to be reckoned with in the brutal publishing industry.  I'll teach it not to take criticism personally—my baby could never learn that.  I'll mold it into a giant who will box its way onto the desk of an agent, causing said agent to swoon.  After rebandaging its fearsome hands, stopping the bloody nose and tending to its swollen lip, it will be ready to move from the agent's desk to that of the publishers, who will also love and adore it...

Man, am I getting ahead of myself!  I haven't done anything more than work on the outline.  I need to stop daydreaming and get to work.


How do you feel when you have to start over?  The more seasoned writers out there must not do this as often, but I know we have all done it at one point or another.  Have you ever coddled something despite its disrepair?  How long did it take you to admit that some work had to move permanently onto the shelf?

Character Rap Sheet

My dear blogosphery friends,

I need your help.  Through much reflection, a newly received critique, and lessons learned through last week's WriteOnCon, I've come to realize that I need to do great things to improve my characters.  This is hardly a surprising discovery.  I've been slowly moving toward this for some time, and have blogged about it before.

But now I want a complete overhaul of almost every single character.

Yeah, there's one who's interesting and developed (in my not so humble opinion).  Unfortunately, she's second-string, and her deeper involvement in the stories doesn't occur until book 2 :(  Not much help when I'm gutting book 1, is it?

The plan:  I want to create an in-depth questionnaire for myself that I must answer in excruciating detail for every individual who crosses my pages.  I don't care if the character makes a 2-page appearance—well, actually I do, because it means s/he should get cut.  But each character needs to be examined under the bright interrogation lights until they sweat so much I can't read their words on the pages.

I have the following already:

Physical Appearance (eye color, hair color, other defining facial information, height, weight, scars, piercings, tattoos, is their second toe longer or shorter than their big toe? clothing style, hair style, makeup...)
General Historical Information (DoB, DoD (if applicable), education, extra-curricular activities, suspensions, broken bones, hospitalizations, first kiss, first extensive sexual experiences, mother's maiden name, heritage, children, parents...)
Personal Information (left/right handed, allergies, contacts/glasses/20-20, exercise routine or not, favorite color, food preferences, handwriting style...)
Personal Quirks (nervous gestures/ticks, sweaty hands, what do they do when they lie? phobias...)

Other Randomness:

• What did s/he want to be after growing up?
• Did s/he have any pets as a child?  Names?
• Hobbies?  How serious are they?  Past hobbies since abandoned?
• Favorite iconic figures? (actors, writers, musicians, artists, world politicians, historical figures...)
• Video game obsessions?
• City or country or suburbia?
• Boxers or briefs?
• Favorite type of music?  Favorite type of fiction or non-fiction? Drama, sitcom, or documentary?
• Do they drink?  What do they drink?
• If s/he had a million dollars (or applicable currency)...?
• Left brained or right brained?
• Favorite/Worst childhood vacation?
• Favorite/Worst childhood memory?
• If s/he could visit anywhere, where would s/he go first?

The problem with the list:  My list so far is a better description of who I am than anything else.  It demonstrates how I think, and not necessarily how my characters think.  The problem, therefore, is that my characters can only grow as much as I allow them to if I stick to this list.  I don't like that.  Not one bit.

(Personal information: type-A control freak...) 

My request to you, dear beloved cyber-friends:  Can you contribute anything to my laundry lists above?  What other questions should I ask my characters?  The randomer the better, folks.  Hit me with your best shot! :)

And thank you!!!