Musings of a Would-Be Writer

Coming Up For Air

2010-11-03T06:26:00.001-07:00

Yes, I have been absent and for that I apologize. Life has become decidedly more complex and blogging has suffered for it. Working a full time job and a part time job, a full load of graduate coursework, revising a novel and beginning the query process, and now NaNoWriMo, (oh yeah, and my family) have necessarily pushed some things out of the way. There are only so many hours in a day and if my sluggish exhaustion is any indication I should be spending a couple more of those hours sleeping.

For now, those of you who are participating in NaNo and would like more buddies can find me there as mkdbail. I welcome your buddyage!

Good luck and to all of you who are similarly overworked, hang in there. You're not alone.

At First Sight Blogfest

2010-10-07T07:11:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Jacee Drake for hosting the At First Sight Blogfest!

My submission to the fest is an excerpt from my novel. The set up: Dusty is a secondary character, but one of my faves. He's a faerie who can talk to animals. He's out one morning and meets up with Bamboo, who is a cat.

*************

Dusty pumped his wings harder as he zigzagged through the forest, enjoying the early morning before he and Willow started their day. He loved summer mornings and often got up early so he could visit with his animal friends, making it a point to check in on them and share gossip and news every few days. This morning he’d gone farther than he had for several weeks and was just about to turn around and start back when he noticed that the human house that had been empty for months now had lights on inside. He flew closer to get a better look and saw a woman sitting on the porch, eyes closed, with an open book laying across her chest. The cat on her lap lay sprawled on his back, but he was awake and watched Dusty as he approached. It had been ages since Dusty had chatted with a cat and because he enjoyed meeting new animals when he got the chance, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to this kitty, even if there was a human dangerously close by.

It won’t hurt to just say hi.

He flew down and landed on the porch railing without a sound. He stood still and tense, holding his breath, as he watched the woman sleeping. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes moved back and forth beneath their lids. Satisfied that she was, indeed, asleep, Dusty relaxed and with a big grin on his face he waved at the cat, who eyeballed him suspiciously.

“Pssst, over here kitty,” Dusty whispered, his wave more vigorous. The cat growled at him.

“Hey, be nice! I’m just trying to be friends. Come over here so we can chat!”

The cat rolled upright, glared at Dusty, then jumped down to the porch and sauntered over to where Dusty waited. He was a beautiful cat with fluffy orange fur which made Dusty want to reach out and ruffle his cheeks, but this particular kitty didn’t look excited to see him. He couldn’t understand the cat’s hostility. It had been his experience that most animals were curious and happy to meet him.

“What’s wrong, kitty? I won’t hurt you.”

Dusty jumped down and landed lightly on the porch where the cat sniffed him with cautious contempt.

“C’mon Kitty, what’s the problem? Why won’t you talk to me?”

What are you? Dusty heard the cat’s thoughts flood his mind, happy he seemed to be warming up to him.

“I’m fae. We have a settlement here in the forest. My name is Dusty. What’s your name?”

My person calls me Bamboo.

“Cool name! You and your person haven’t been here long, have you? What happened to the nice old lady who used to live here?”

She died.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Why?

“Well, isn’t that the polite thing to say when someone dies?”

I didn’t know her, so I don’t really care.

“Wow. You’re not a very cheerful fellow, are you?”

It’s not a matter of being cheerful. I just didn’t know her, so it isn’t important to me. Did you know her?

“Sort of. I’ve seen her a few times, but it’s been a while since I’ve been here so I didn’t know she’d died. Why are you and your person here?”

Holly stirred in the rocker.

You’d better be careful, you’ll wake her.

*****************

Now, go check out the rest of the entries and enjoy!

Here's to Another Twenty

2010-10-06T06:03:00.000-07:00

Happy Anniversary, Hubby. I love you even more now than I did 20 years ago when I said "I do."

Banned Books Week

2010-09-25T13:59:00.001-07:00

September 25 - October 2

This week why not read a banned book? Open your mind and look at the world from another point of view. Personally, I've never understood book banning. First of all, it only proves the cowardice and small-mindedness of the banner(s) and secondly banning something only makes it that much more desirable. Remember prohibition? Yeah. Like that. Alcohol was illegal? Really? Like that kept people from drinking. It only made people more determined to drink.

Hmmmm. So maybe we should ban books in a sneaky backward effort to makes people want to read them more. Anybody see what happened around the blogosphere last weekend when some dude advocated banning the book, Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson? A huge wave of support and lots of publicity for the book. So, I wonder if a little reverse psychology would do the trick?

The Great Blogging Experiment - How To Write Compelling Characters

2010-09-24T06:05:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Elana Johnson et al for hosting the Great Blogging Experiment. Participants are all asked to blog today about the same subject: How to Write Compelling Characters.

I didn't actually sign up for the experiment, but the subject is interesting enough that I'm going to blog about it anyway!

So, what makes characters interesting?

In my opinion perfect characters are just boring (and I don't personally know any...do you?). I want to read characters who are flawed and human, who make mistakes and learn from them. It's as simple as that (I kid, it's not really easy).

After you create imperfect people to write about, show us all about them (you know, show, don't tell?) Help us understand them by challenging them and making them make dumb mistakes, then show us how they become better people because of it.

Making your characters compelling is kind of a 2-step process: create people with flaws and dreams and then give them challenging situations that allow them to evolve.

It sounds easy, but it really isn't. It's tempting to write perfect people, but that's just plain boring. Writing interesting characters, and writing in general, takes a lot of practice, but that's part of what makes it fun - coming up with new and fascinating people to write about!

So what qualities do you think make compelling characters? How do you approach writing them?

Blogfeast!

2010-09-23T06:54:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Angela over at Jaded Love Junkie for hosting the Blogfeast! My entry is below, from my WIP, Faerie Fate. It's a cross post from my other blog, Mara Writes.

***********

Their house was small and homey. The space was loaded with a soft overstuffed couch and chairs in mismatched patterns. In the kitchen, Willow was cooking something that smelled good enough to make Shadow’s stomach growl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

“That smells great, Willow.”

Willow began the business of serving the meal and not too long after she’d set out plates and bread, Dusty burst through the door, skidding to a stop in the middle of the room. Starrie and Shadow jumped when the door slammed open, but Willow seemed to take it in stride.

“Where've you been, Dusty?” she asked as she dished up another bowl for him.

Dusty leaned over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “You’ll never believe me even if I tell you,” he said between heaving breaths.

“Try us,” Shadow said.

“Well, I was flying through the forest, saying hi to some friends, and it was just such a beautiful morning I kept on flying, you know? I ended up in a pretty meadow where I saw a deer I know and she introduced me to her baby, and then I saw some lights through the trees so I went to check it out.”

“So, what was it?” Shadow prompted him.

Dusty gulped a couple of shallow breaths as he went to the kitchen and got a drink. “Willow, you remember the house outside the forest where that nice old lady used to live?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Well, she doesn’t live there anymore.”

Shadow heaved a sigh. Dusty’s storytelling irritated him, mostly because it took him forever to get to the point. He struggled to maintain his patience as he watched Dusty guzzle his drink, wipe his mouth and put the cup in the sink. He wondered if there would to be any more to the tale other than an announcement that some old human woman no longer resided in the house she used to reside in.

“If she doesn’t live there, why were the lights on?” Starrie asked.

“Exactly!” Dusty exclaimed, as if the mystery were solved.

“Was there someone else there now?” Willow prompted.

“Yes there was. I got close enough to see a young woman on the porch and she had a beautiful ginger kitty on her lap. He was so furry and it’s been a really long time since I talked to a cat. So I made sure the lady was completely asleep and I snuck up to the porch and talked to the kitty. But it turns out he wasn’t so friendly after all.”

***********
So, that's my entry. It's not a feast, just a little breakfast among friends. Hmmm. Wonder what happened between Dusty and the cat?

Now go check out the rest of the scenes at Jaded Love Junkie !

24-Hour Play Festival Success

2010-09-18T21:11:00.000-07:00

This weekend was the 24-Hour Play Festival at the university. What's that, you ask? Well, it's a theatre event where within 24 Hours plays are written, rehearsed, produced, and performed. On Friday evening we all meet, introduce ourselves, and share the prop and costume piece we brought.

Then the actors and directors go home and the writers write plays. The finished plays are due by 6:00 a.m. Then actors and directors show up to learn lines, block the plays, and rehearse. Then the house opens at 7:00 p.m., shows start at 7:30 and by 8:30 it's been 24 hours and we're done!

So this is the fourth year I've written for the festival. The first year I wrote a great play, second year bombed big time (mostly because I drew newbie actors who couldn't memorize the script, but the script wasn't my best, either). Third year was good. This year turned out to be awesome!

When I went into it Friday night, I had no idea what I wanted to write, which is pretty much the point of the exercise. But sometimes as a writer you have some vague ideas floating around in your head. I ended up adapting this, which I wrote for the Invasion of the Bloggy Snatchers blogfest.

It turned out amazing and I was really pleased with the result. Was it perfect? No, there were definitely places I realized, after watching it performed, that I can make adjustments, tighten dialogue, add jokes, etc. But for having been accomplished in 24 hours? It was great!

So tonight was another 24-Hour Play Festival well done. I love this as a writing experience!

And Now I Panic

2010-09-14T13:15:00.000-07:00

I submitted a proposal for a presentation to be included in the Red River Women's Studies Conference at University of North Dakota, and I was accepted. The conference is held annually and I presented an academic paper last year, but this year the conference is accepting creative presentations so my proposal was to do a reading from my sci-fi/chick lit WIP.

Imagine how excited I was when I was accepted into the program. Yay! I get to do a reading!

Today I received the schedule of events and I am the only creative submission in the entire conference. The only one. Everything else is hoity-toity academic stuff. Suddenly I feel seriously out of place, like a black sheep, like a silly little piece of fluff amongst the academic heavy weights. A sampling of the other presentations at the conference finds such offerings as:

"Community Circles: Unveiling the Gap Between the Realities of Domestic Violence and the Paternalistic Assumptions of the Adversarial Process." (what does that even mean????)

"The Evolution of Western European Feminism and its Relation to the New Left."

"Gendered Discourses of Stability and Change: Women Communicating Wisdom."

And then you see me on the schedule as: "Excerpt from a Science Fiction Novel."

I am so outclassed it's not even funny. Not only have I never done a creative reading of my own work, but I am not an actress. How am I supposed to make these characters come to life like they are in my head and not sound like a complete moron in front of all these academic types? They probably don't even read fiction unless it's part of the "canon" and written before, say, 1950 (preferrably 1900). I can't compete with the canon.

I'm really thinking about backing out because I don't have nearly enough confidence to pull it off.

Anybody else ever found yourself in a similar situation? How did you deal? Run screaming from the room and hide in a dark corner hoping it would all just go away? Or did you face your demons and pull off a victory?

I Struggle to Understand The Success of a Certain Vampire Novel

2010-09-13T12:54:00.000-07:00

One of the courses I'm taking for my MFA this semester is entitled "Individual Aesthetic and Process" the goal of which is to develop standards of value appropriate to the genre in which the student (me!) wishes to succeed. Because I have such a dissociative desire to write both screenplays and fiction I've decided to explore my aesthetic and process with regard to both genres.

How in the heck am I going to do that? Good question. One element of the course requirements is to explore what makes effective and significant fiction and screenwriting by examining three novels which have been adapted to film, the subsequent film, and the screenplay then write responses to each discussing story elements, themes, and structure and how these either were or were not successful in the novel form versus the film.

Basically as a student of writing I want to learn how to write well. But what writer doesn't also want to experience success? Are writing well and success mutually exclusive? I don't think so. And to explore that question, the stories I chose to look at in both novel and film form are: Twilight, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and Whip It. These novels and screenplays were all written by women and, I think, range all along the scales of quality and success.

I wrote the paper on Twilight today, and I've gotta say that I just don't care how popular it was, how successful it was, how much money it made....I just don't like it. It's insipid, it disregards conventions (i.e., it's littered with excessive adjectives and adverbs which make the writing so much weaker than it should have been), and I'm seriously disturbed by some of the messages and themes (co-dependence, underage relationships, obsession, etcetera....).

When I read it the first time I fell for the soap-opera allure of it...like a vampire glamour it mesmerized me to just keep reading no matter how bad it was. It has a certain crack-on-the-page addictive quality to it, though I still can't identify exactly what that quality is because an objective look at it just makes me embarrassed that I fell for it.

However, on second read-through the flaws were much more evident and I actually had a hard time forcing myself to keep reading. The repetitive nature of references to Edward's astonishing beauty, strength, speed, marble-like form, cold skin, and overall perfection in general were gag-inspiring. And Bella's teen angst and utter lack of self-confidence was dispiriting.

The film was even worse.

In just a 3-page paper I couldn't attempt an explanation for the incongruous success of both the novel and the film. I'm stumped to explain it other than it must have struck a chord with its target audience (tween/teen girls who daydream of idealized true love, Prince Charming, and all the trappings thereof) and it was just the right thing at the right time. Nothing more than a quirk of fate.

So...what are your feelings about Twilight? Love it? Hate it? Don't understand it's appeal? Why do you think it was so successful?

Life in the Classroom for a Noob Teacher

2010-09-10T07:56:00.000-07:00

As some of you may know, I'm doing my teaching practicum this semester as part of my MFA degree. I'm teaching freshman composition at the university where I got my BA.

I've had very little guidance, save some advice from a former instructor-turned-friend, and absolutely nothing else. I had to design my own course, write my own syllabus, and I'm teaching myself how to teach.

It's been an...um...interesting experience.

The first week passed in a stomach-lurching blur. I don't freak out about public speaking, in general, but it's a totally different story when you're responsible for filling an hour three times a week in front of 22 people.

But after the first couple of classes I was past the being-nervous-in-front-of-people feeling. My stomach had calmed down. The butterflies had disappeared.

However, I was still left with the difficulty of not being able to fill an hour. I was laboring under the assumption that I needed to fill the entire time with lecture. Until I began to bore myself. I simply can't talk that long. And when the students were nodding off I knew it was time to try something different.

Of course, by that time I was convinced I was a crappy teacher and I was thinking to myself, "what the hell have I gotten myself into?" I had a panicked moment of doubt when I thought my carefully laid plans of the last few years were all a pile of shit and here I am in my (grmf)-ties and I've accrued massive student loan debt and it's way too late to discover now that I made a mistake.

Now, usually, I'm not a quitter. I'm stubborn. So I let that moment of panic pass and I looked at the problem logically. I asked myself: Do you like teaching? And I answered, actually, I really do like being in the classroom. I love the university atmosphere. And I like the idea of helping other people learn how to write. So all I had to do was figure out how to manage the classroom.

I'm sure this is not a revelation to anyone who teaches, but I decided to mix it up. Only lecture for maybe 20 minutes then engage the students in some kind of activity that requires their participation.

Last Wednesday we were talking about critical thinking and how it's like investigating and that the question is the investigator's most important tool. So we played a question game (not 20 questions, though I thought about that. I'm saving it for another day). And they loved it. It was a smashing success and they understood how it applied to our discussion. Someone even said, as they were loading up to leave (after the class lasted the full hour...yay!), "that was a great class!"

I got all warm and fuzzy inside.

So what am I learning by being a teacher? That I can do it as long as I'm determined and flexible and creative.

Yeah. I can do that.

To Pen Name Or Not To Pen Name?

2010-09-06T18:58:00.001-07:00

The subject of pen names has been explored brilliantly and in depth at various writer's blogs around the blogosphere. In fact, Rachelle Gardner has also discussed it today on her blog, so please visit her there for some great advice.

As a writer, there are several reasons you may want to use a pseudonym. You may have a job or be looking for a job and want to keep your writing and working lives separate. Imagine you work as an elementary teacher by day and write erotica or romance by night. It could be inconvenient to have your employer....or parents....google you and find out about your other life. A pen name might be in order if you just don't like your name, or it's very common and you share it with a lot of other people, or it's the same or similar to a celebrity or another author. If you're planning on writing in several genres, it may be prudent to have a pen name to keep your writing life neatly organized.

Interestingly, whether or not to use a pen name is a question that we ask each of the authors we interview on Critique This WIP and there have been some intriguing answers, so clearly there are as many opinions on the subject as there are authors.

For a combination of these reasons, I've come to the conclusion that I need a pseudonym. It's a question that each of us in my critique group, Critique This WIP, has considered recently. We've been discussing it amongst ourselves for a while now and we all pretty much came to the same conclusion. Some of us have jobs that we want to keep separate from our writing lives, some of us have common or not very "writerly" sounding names, some of us don't want our family to be affected by our writing, so we've all decided to take pen names.

The fun came for all of us in selecting pseudonyms we could feel comfortable with. Tessa was already using a pen name, so the issue was a moot point for her, but the rest of us struggled to find names that "felt" right, that we could comfortably assume and not feel like we were playing at pretend. I've selected the name Mara Nash (come follow me over there, too!), and will now begin building a web "presence" in her name.

I'm nearly finished with revisions of my first novel and will be sending it out to betas soon, then beginning the querying process, so I felt it was prudent to begin the process of assuming my pseudonym. An interesting point Rachelle made in her blog post on pen names is that writers should start the query process from the beginning using their pseudonym. Do all of your correspondence using your pen name, and identify yourself in that way. You don't need to tell the agent it's not your real name until they offer you representation. This is good information to know, and something I had no idea about before I read her blog post. So, thanks Rachelle!

I'd be interested to know your feelings about pseudonyms. Do you use one? Why or why not?

Haiku Blogfest

2010-09-03T06:54:00.000-07:00

Today is the haiku blogfest hosted by Stephanie Thornton. The blogfest runs Sept 3rd and 4th, so be sure to visit Stephanie's site and check out the links of everyone participating!

As I've commented here before, I'm not a poet by any stretch of the imagination, but I do love haiku - they're deceptively simple yet can be so zen. And I'm not good at writing them. Like I said deceptively simple, not actually simple.

On her site Stephanie suggested that blogfest participants write haiku based on their WIP, so rather than make an attempt at a "real" haiku (i.e., seasonal references, nature-related, moras vs syllables, etc), which I'm sure I'd butcher, I wrote one about my paranormal romance WIP.

Faeries are real. What?!
Rogue fae father wants her dead.
Can soul mate save her?

If I can come up with one for my sci-fi WIP I'll add it tomorrow!

Check out the rest of the entries and enjoy the fest!

Fight, Fight, Fight Blogfest

2010-08-31T09:20:00.000-07:00

Thanks to JC Martin at The Fighter Writer for hosting the Fight Blogfest!

This is an excerpt from my sci-fi WIP. It's right at the 1000 word limit, so it's a little long. But hope you like it!

The set-up: Jaska is a thief (it's written in first person so he's the "I" character). On his way to steal a valuable map he's shanghaied by space pirates. This fight occurs shortly after he comes onboard their ship.

******************

“Strip,” Snake commands.

“Yeah, right. I don’t think so,” I say, and a nervous laugh ripples through the crowd. I guess I just challenged the pack’s Alpha.

“You don’t really have a choice,” he says. And although it’s a seriously creepy command, he’s right. I’ve got no weapon and I can’t fight my way off the ship. But I'll be damned if I'll stand here buck naked in a crowd of pirates. I wonder when these guys last saw time in port, on solid ground, and more importantly, in a woman’s bed.

I drop my pack on the nearest bunk and shrug out of my jacket. That’s when Snake, Tiger, and Bug jump me. The crowd cheers. Once on the floor, I manage to draw my knees up to my chest, protecting my softest parts, then roll onto my side. Someone kidney-punches me from behind so I throw an elbow backwards and connect with a satisfying crunch. Whoever it is yelps in pain and his weight disappears off me. There’s a whoop from somewhere in the crowd. I guess he’s rooting for me. Somebody else stands over me trying to kick my head but I have my arms in the way and I’m wedged too close to the bunk for him to land anything. I twist around and kick out with both feet, landing a blow against his locked knee pushing it into hyperextension. He screams. The third guy comes at me, punching at my face. I reach up and grab a handful of his hair and yank his head back. With my other fist I punch him in the temple. That knocks him out cold.

In that instant I jump to my feet, crouched and ready for battle. There’s only Snake and Tiger left conscious and I know I can take them, assuming after I’m done with them the rest of the crowd doesn’t decide to finish me off. Tiger has a broken nose, blood pouring down his chin, and Snake is limping, but they’re still game. It would take more than these minor injuries to disable a couple of pirates. They stalk forward and I retreat.

“What’s with the fight, guys?” I ask.

“You have to earn your place,” Snake says.

“I never asked for a place. I don’t even want to be here.”

“You’ve gotta earn a rank.”

“This is how you rank your crew?”

“It’s as good a measure of a man as anything else,” Tiger says.

I’ve gotta give him that. Tiger lunges for me and I step aside, but he still lands a glancing blow to the belly. I grunt in response. Snake rushes in and lands a punch to my left eye that sends me spinning. Tiger's ready with another punch but I duck to the side to avoid it and see a pile of dishes on the bunk next to me. I grab the nearest utensil, a three-pronged fork, and swing at him, sinking the fork up to the hilt in his belly. He stops short and looks down at his trunk, surprised to see the fork buried there. I use that moment to knee him in the groin then, as he doubles over, grab him by the back of the head and ram his face into my knee. He falls like a sack of grain to the floor. That’s two down.

I spin to face Snake, who springs at me, much like his namesake, and I notice just in time that he’s armed with a knife. I jump back and just miss being gutted.

“Hey, I give, man. You win,” I say.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Snake says and leaps for me again. I jump back and trip over something on the floor. On hands and knees, I scramble between the bunks away from Snake. A glance to the left and I see a shovel under one of the beds. At this point I’m not surprised to see anything in here. Snake’s footsteps get closer. I reach under the bed and grab the shovel, and quickly gain my feet, then, before Snake can see what I’ve got, I turn and jam it into his gut. At close range it doesn't do much damage, but maintains some distance. He grunts, but then tosses the knife in the air and catches it by the blade. Quick as a blink he hurls it at me. My reflexes are good, especially when it comes to self-preservation. I hop sideways just enough so that the blade drills my biceps instead of my chest. Now I’m pissed. Enough is enough. I jerk the shovel up so that it catches him under the chin and crunches his jaws together, snapping his head back. His eyes roll back, he loses his balance and he falls on his ass.

I slide the knife from my arm and turn my back on Snake. I rip a strip from the cleanest sheet I can find and wrap it around my arm, then return to Snake and offer him my hand. He's groggy, rubbing his jaw and cocking his neck back and forth, checking to be sure it still works. There’s suspicion all over his face as he squints at me, but I just stand there waiting for him to take my offered hand. When he finally does I help him up.

“Are we done now?” I ask. “Do I pass your little test?”

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “You’ll do.” The crowd is dispersing. Some of the guys congratulate me for surviving, avoiding Snake’s gaze. Someone helps Bug and Tiger, who are now coming around.

Tiger is up, cradling his sore balls in his hand. “You fight like a dog,” he says, his voice boggy from his swollen nose.

I find this amusing since he was out to kill me first. I shrug at him. “If by that you mean I fight to win, then sure.” Really I was more concerned with surviving than winning, but a little bravado after the fact never hurt anyone.

**************
Now, hop on over to the Fighter Writer and check out the links to the other entries!

Fairy Tale Blogfest

2010-08-30T07:14:00.000-07:00

The lovely Emily White over at Stepping Into Fantasy is hosting the Fairy Tale Blogfest today. When I first read the announcement for this blogfest I was totally excited. And then the days slipped by and I hadn't written anything. Here we are on the big day and I'm writing by the seat of my pants again.

What I came up with is a sci-fi mash up of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. It's a little long, but I hope you like it!

So, without any further ado, here's my contribution to the Fairy Tale Blogfest:

**************

Rafe Charming strove always to live up to his name, and so far he'd done well for himself. In the midst of a galactic uprising he'd found plenty of work as a hero-for-hire. But this job might have been biting off more than he could chew.

"Hey, Rafe," his partner, Doc, whispered. "You still think this job was such a great idea?"

Now three floors under the ruins of an ancient palace on a planet at the fringe of the galaxy, Rafe reconsidered. A mental inventory only ramped the adrenalin another degree: one entrance, one exit, the Crone Council, an army of androids crawling the planet surface, a senator's daughter in need of rescue. All in a day's work.

"Maybe not," he admitted. His back to the damp stone wall, he inched closer to the nearby chamber, careful not to trip on rocky debris.

Keeping the wall between him and the vastness of the chamber, he slid a mirror from his pocket and edged it into the open space where the wall came to an end. What he saw inside caused a sheen of sweat to prick his hairline, a bead sliding down his temple. He swallowed hard.

Seeing his response, Doc let his head drop against the wall behind him. "Let me guess," he whispered. "Our lovely target is being held against her will in the midst of some impossible obstacle course."

"You're half right," Rafe replied.

Doc's brows rose as he considered what could possibly make their situation more complicated. Then he smacked his hand to his forehead. "Some huge, hairy, invincible creature is guarding her."

"Bingo."

"Shit. I don't know why I keep working with you."

"It's the charm. I'm irresistable," Rafe said, shooting Doc his most charismatic grin.

"Yeah, whatever," Doc grunted. "Let's get this over with. I'll take the hairy beast. As usual. You get the girl."

"As usual," Rafe finished. That was his favorite part.

They stepped into the empty space of the doorway, blasters blazing, and luck was on their side as they took the massive creature by surprise. It's eyes shot wide as the first bolts hit it, singing its fur. It bellowed rage while its blood flew, spattering the unconscious woman it was guarding. The force of the blaster shots compromised its balance and, arms flailing, it tipped backwards and toppled off the platform into the void below.

The following silence rang in Rafe's ears, but there was no time to waste. With nimble and practiced feet Doc negotiated the obstacle course, making short work of booby traps and obstructions. Rafe took up the rear, guarding against surprise flank attacks.

On the central platform, the woman lay unconscious on a stone dais, her hair an ebony puddle framing her alabaster face.

Rafe approached her, his heart tripping with anticipation. He watched her slow and steady breathing, in awe of her perfect beauty. Her lips were full and rosy and they stirred in him a desire to taste them. He amended his earlier thoughts. This was his favorite part of the job.

"Doc," he said in a reverent whisper. "The balm. Give me the balm."

Doc rolled his eyes and dug around in his pocket until he found the tube of lip balm, then placed it in Rafe's outstretched hand.

Rafe smeared it on his lips, feeling the familiar tingle as the magic took effect. It was almost gone. They'd have to go back to that creepy apothecary and get some more. He sighed. All part of the job, and well worth it if it meant kissing more women like this.

He leaned in until his lips met hers. Soft and cool and sweet, he applied more pressure - just to be sure - then savored the growing heat as the magic began to do its job. He sampled one last mouthful of those luscious lips before the heat of the magic was too much, then stood to find Doc glaring at him.

"What?" he asked. "It's my reward for a job well done."

"What a prince," Doc said. "And we're not out of the woods yet." He gestured at the dark hall from which they'd come. "We still have to get out of here."

The woman stirred and sat, rubbing her eyes. "Where am I?" She asked.

Rafe took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "C'mon, Princess, we've gotta go."

Just then, a spine-chilling cackle filled the room. Looked like their luck wasn't going to hold after all as the Council of Crones spilled from an entrance hidden in the opposite wall. As twisted and hideous as rumors promised, Rafe wasn't interested in sticking around to make their acquaintance. His job was done and it was time to go.

"Doc!" he called. "Take the girl and get back to the ship! I'll take care of these hags."

Doc didn't wait to see if Rafe changed his mind. He took the girl by the hand and sprinted out the door, retracing their steps while Rafe backed away from the crones, his blasters burning bright, serenaded by the sweet sound of screeching as each shot hit its mark.

"I take it back," he said to himself, hopped up again on an adrenalin high. "This is definitely the best part!"

Review of Whisper Kiss by Deborah Cooke

2010-08-28T13:38:00.000-07:00

Recently, I was lucky enough to win a signed copy of Whisper Kiss by Deborah Cooke from the FreshFiction blog. The funny thing is that I had already gone out, that very same day, and bought a copy of the book before I learned that I'd won the signed copy!

First, let me say that the Dragonfire series is at least in part responsible for inspiring the series of paranormal romances that I'm currently writing. So there you go, Deborah, you're an inspiration!

This is how Whisper Kiss describes itself:

For millenia, the shape-shifting dragon warriors known as the Pyr have lived peacefully as guardians of the earth's treasures. But now the final reckoning between the Pyr, who count humans among the earth's treasures, and the Slayers, who are determined to eradicate both humans and the Pyr who protect them, has begun...

Niall Talbot has volunteered to hunt down and destroy all the remaining shadow dragons- who were weakened by the desruction of the Dragon's Blood Elixir- before they can wreak more havoc. Among them is his dead twin brother, making Niall's mission not only dangerous but personal.

Tattoo artist Rox believes the world is a canvas to be made more beautiful. An unconventional spirit who isn't afraid of anything, she doesn't even flinch when a shape-shifting dragon warrior suddenly appears on her doorstep. And as a woman who follows her heart in matters of passion, she makes the perfect mate for a firestorm with Niall

Now on to the review.

Just like with all of the books in the Dragonfire series, I couldn't put Whisper Kiss down from page one. The author weaves a heart-pounding tale of desire and danger that kept me turning pages well into the night. And when, bleary-eyed, I finally put the book down and slept, it was the first thing I thought of when I woke up the next day and I couldn't wait to get back into the pages.

A lost soul, a guilt-ridden twin, a megalomaniac, an army of undead dragons. It's a roller coaster ride of emotion, sexy dragons, and tense battle scenes you do not want to miss. Who could ask for more? Cooke masterfully ramps up the tension bit by bit until you're sure the worst is just around the corner and you're whispering, "no!" with every word you read. I literally couldn't read fast enough to find out what happens next.

I've got to say that I'm impressed that Cooke has managed to create five distinctly different love stories, each of which is self-contained within a single novel, while at the same time continuing a main story arc which remains compelling and fresh thoughout the entire series.

And of course there's a teaser at the end of Whisper Kiss for novel number six, Darkfire Kiss due out May 2011 which I now have to wait impatiently for. *sigh* (if only I could wrangle an ARC for review purposes...)

I whole-heartedly recommend this book. And if you haven't read Cooke's other Dragonfire novels, now is the time to run out and find them for a marathon of shape-shifting fun.

What Makes Good Writing

2010-08-27T07:27:00.000-07:00

I'm cheating a little here because this is a cross post from my other blog, Critique This WIP.

First, let me say that the first day of university teaching went fairly well. I was a nervous wreck and only had enough material to stretch the class to 25 minutes, but I really hadn't planned for it to last the whole hour, so I count the whole episode as a success...mostly because I survived without A) fainting, B) sounding too stupid, C) completely losing control.

Today is day two in the classroom and we're going to begin a discussion of what makes good writing. That's why I'm sharing this cross post from Critique This WIP.

It's not so easy to sit down and bang out a good paper, especially if you don't know anything about the nuts and bolts of writing. So as I've gone about writing my syllabus, I've been thinking about the writing process in general and, specifically, what are the qualities that make good writing?

These are questions I'll be discussing with my class. Part of learning how to put the puzzle pieces of a good academic paper together (or putting together any writing project) is understanding the underlying purpose of whatever you're writing and getting at the meat of how to know if it's good.

What qualities make good writing? It's a big, open-ended question which will have as many different answers as people who answer it. With so many different kinds of writing - fiction, nonfiction, academic, technical, business, poetry, and, and, and - it seems like it would be impossible to identify a comprehensive set of qualities that define goodness for any and all varieties of writing...and it is. But there are some basic, foundational qualities that apply to any type of writing:

1. Ideas/theme/story/meaning that is interesting and/or important: This is the heart of the piece - what the writer has chosen to write about.

2. Form/structure/organization that is logical and effective: This is how the items in number 1 are put together and flow. Is there a beginning, middle, and end? Does everything the writer has written make sense to the reader?

3. Language that is smooth and expressive: Good writing uses just the right words to say just the right thing. Do the words paint a picture in the reader's mind? Is there sufficient description and appropriate vocabulary? Are sentences fluent and easy to understand?

4. Voice that is individual and has style: This is the expression of the writer's personality through words. Is the voice consistent throughout? Is it distinctive?

5. Conventions that are correct and appropriate: This is includes punctuation, spelling, grammar, sentence structure. These should adhere to accepted conventions for the English language, unless there is a stylistic reason not to.

As I start discussing the nuts and bolts of building an academic paper, I want the students to be thinking about these ideas of what makes good writing. I want them to think about how writing well will elevate the importance of the content over the form. I was thinking of this analogy earlier: When you build a house, you hide the framing, the electric wiring, and the plumbing inside the walls. And hopefully your plan is laid out so that it flows logically. These are all essential parts of the house and you wouldn't want to live in a house without them. But you don't want to see them or think about them every day, either. You know they're there doing their jobs, but what you really want is to enjoy the aesthetics and comfort of your home.

The same can be said for writing. Whether it's academic or creative, your plan, framing, electrical wiring, and plumbing are your organization, grammar, spelling, and punctuation. If those things are done properly, you won't see them in the writing. All you'll see is the story, theme, ideas or meaning. So thinking about what makes good writing while you write will help you lay the foundation, no matter what your writing project.

What do you think makes good writing? I've only given you five things to think about. I'm sure everyone has their own opinions, too. Do you agree with mine? What would you add to the list?

Back to the Classroom

2010-08-24T06:31:00.001-07:00

School starts tomorrow, which in and of itself is no big deal. My kids will be back in the classroom, and it's a big year for our oldest because he's a senior. I'm trying not to think about how fast the year will go and how much my heart is going to break when he goes to college.

Speaking of college...I'll be stepping into the classroom as an instructor for the first time tomorrow. And let me tell you, I am totally freaked out. I'll be teaching freshman composition, so it's not rocket science, but I've never taught so this will be a learning experience for me, as well. I will spend this semester finding my teaching style and learning how to teach. These poor kids will be my guinea pigs. I'm also going to be teaching second semester composition at the air force base. That will be an entirely different teaching experience.

But....I've written a thoughtful and workable syllabus, so at least I'm prepared (I hope). And I think it works in my favor that as freshmen, these kids have no idea what to expect from university instructors, so I probably won't suffer too much by comparison.

Here's hoping I get through tomorrow without barfing or babbling or, even worse, drawing a complete blank and having nothing to say!

If nothing else, this whole experience will replace the golf course for me as a source of writing fodder.

Hot Enough for You? And More Golf Course Fun

2010-08-20T20:22:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I told any golf course stories, so I think it's time for another.

Actually, it's been pretty dull on the course for a while now. We had a couple of tournaments which require two beverage carts to keep everyone happy (read: to keep everyone boozed up). People drink a lot on tournament days. On those days Hubby drives the second cart. We split the course: front nine and back nine, and even then I can't keep up. We make it a little more interesting by placing bets to see which of us can sell the most and who can earn the most tips. It's even more fun when I tell the people I'm serving that Hubby and I have bet against each other...sometimes they take pity on me and tip me extra. But some of them are snitches and when they get on the back nine and meet up with Hubby they laugh, hahahaha, and confide in him what I told them, then tip him too. On the one hand, being uber-competitive as I am, I resent them. On the other hand, all the tips end up in the same place so we end up with more cash because of it.

For those of you unfamiliar with North Dakota weather, it changes really fast. One of the favorite local sayings is, "if you don't like North Dakota weather, just wait a few minutes." We've had a couple of days on the course where it starts out sunny, hot, humid, then as the hours tick away the clouds build, the wind picks up, and before you know it you're stuck at the tee box on 4, which is like half a mile from the clubhouse, and suddenly the clouds open up and literally dump an inch of rain. Okay, so not so much dump as blow sideways, and no matter how fast you try to get the stupid cart to drive it's not fast enough to avoid getting soaked to the skin so that when you walk into the clubhouse Hubby and boss and everyone laughs at you.

Today was a pretty slow day. It topped 90 degrees and probably 150% humidity. Pretty miserable. Every single time I stopped to sell something, somebody had to ask me "hot enough for you." I mean, really. Is it necessary to ask that? Because clearly it is hot enough. It's more than hot enough. But how do you answer that?

"Why yes, yes it is."

"It's hot? I hadn't noticed."

"Oh yeah baby, it's hot. Just like I like it."

"aaaaarrrghghghghgspfffffft."

But it got better when the really, really old fossil of a man who golfs every single weekend but has never, ever said a word to me, much less deigned to buy anything from me, asked me to take my top off. Okay, back up a little. He was golfing with about a dozen Canadians (who are notorious on the course for getting liquored up but quick...no offense to Canadians in general. It's just our local ones)(they come down from Saskatchewan and load up on American beer they can't get in Canada).

So Fossil is golfing with all these Canadians (I don't know if they're friends, relatives, business associates, or what). And Fossil actually buys some beer from me. Apparently it loosened his inhibitions and his lips a great deal. At the tee box for 7 he asks me:

"Hot enough for you?" (big surprise there). I give him a polite, noncommittal and dismissive laugh. then he says:

"How can you stand to wear that sweater?" (I was wearing a lightweight sweater over a tank top.)

I say: "The heat doesn't really bother me that much." (it does, but I'm not about to wear just a tank top around these guys)

He says: "You should take your top off."

I'm like, what?! Then he says, as he's back in his cart and driving past me to the next hole:

"Hehe. Dirty old man, huh?!"

Ewwww. So I don't see him again until the back nine, tee box for 14, where he and his buddies buy yet more beer. Fossil says:

"It's still hot. You should take your top off."

I ignore him and sell beer to his more polite Canadian friends. He tries one more time:

"When are you going to take your top off?"

I say: "When I get home tonight."

Which makes the Canadians guffaw, probably because they're all drunk, because it wasn't really that funny.

Thankfully, that was the last I saw of Fossil and his pals today. I hope he goes home and sleeps it off and the next time I see him he's back to his ignore-me-and-don't-buy-anything self.

So that's all I've got for golf course stories for now. I'll probably have more later. God knows that place is a gold mine for a writer.

Invasion of the Bloggy Snatchers!

2010-08-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

I'm getting in on this super duper late in the game. When Rebecca at Sonshine Thoughts first announced it I wanted to jump on board, but of course life got in the way and I looked at the calendar today and realized, OMG! It's Invasion of the Bloggy Snatchers day and I've got bubkis to post. So I'm pantsing this.

**********

"Road trip!" I hollered, jangling the Happy Acres van keys I stole from the nurse's station after sneaking into the coma ward and pushing the call button.

The sun shone through the windows of the common room, leaving a striped pattern on the floor from the bars that kept us safe. A techno beat thumped from the stereo.

"Come on, let's go you guys. We can go anywhere. See? I've got freedom right here, in the palm of my hand." I pumped my fist in the air, shaking the keys to emphasize my point.

"Leave me alone. I'm too edgy for the outside," Bill said, then added, "Zimbabwe."

He cringed as a matter of habit right before Claudine slapped him upside the head. He was well trained to expect the head-slap, but not well enough trained to keep his mouth shut.

"Courtney?" I asked, joining her at her computer where she was madly scheduling and adminstrating her group critique blog. And doing homework. And researching. And writing. And pulling her hair out in little tufts that drifted to the floor.

"Fine. But I'm bringing my laptop," she grunted.

I approached Mia in the corner. She was having another tea and hot dog party with her imaginary zombie friends. They all wore bow ties and flip flops. One sported a spiffy bowler hat. It's Happy Acres. We can all see each other's imaginary friends.

"Mia? Road trip?" I asked.

"ZOMG. I'm totes in! (this never happens)(where's my caffeine?!). All the zombies nodded their assent, as well.

Just then Tessa danced in from the hallway, making her customary entrance, trailing sparkles behind her. She stopped long enough to giggle and throw confetti on the zombie party, then fluttered to a red leather chair where Suzie sat rereading her tattered copy of Twilight yet again. I followed her.

"So, um, Tessa. Suzie. Wanna road trip?"

Tessa threw a handful of sparkly confetti. "Will there be cupcakes?"

"Can I bring my book?" Suzie asked, not looking up from her book.

"Yes and yes," I said. I'm a compulsive liar. I'm really bringing donuts.

One final stop on my tour of the room. "Your majesty?" I asked Simon (we all know he's really the king of Scotland, even though Scotland hasn't come around yet. There's an e-mail campaign going on as we speak).

He glanced up from his icy glass of vodka and his entourage of imaginary literary babes, deigning to acknowledge me. "Yes?"

I jingled the keys seductively. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"Would I ever," he said. The gaggle of babes giggled in unison at his innuendo. "But only if I control the radio."

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. That meant more symphonic metal. But it was a price worth paying.

"Shotgun!" Claudine called from across the room, loud enough for the nurse (who had returned to the nurse's station in a huff, embarrassed that she'd fallen for the call-button-in-a-room-full-of-coma-patients yet again) could hear her.

I quickly swung the keys behind my back and slapped on my innocent eyes, but she knew better and approached me with her fists on her broad hips.

"Hand them over, Margaret," she said and slid a wide open hand toward me.

"Damn," I said, and gave her the keys. I glared at her. She glared back. The silence was deafening (except for the techno). Her glare turned into a glower and I knew I was in trouble for sure.

"Um, can I have a donut?" I blinked, then gave her my best puppy dog eyes.

"Hmph," was all she said, then turned and marched back to the nurse's station. I shrugged and went to sit with Bill.

"Zimbabwe," he said.

"Indeed."

Weather Blogfest

2010-08-15T05:31:00.000-07:00

I'm a day late for the weather blogfest, but according to Nick at A Little Slice of Nothing, who is hosting the fest, it's okay to post a day or two on either side of the fest...so I guess I'm still in the safe zone.

This exerpt from my WIP is actually a repeat of the exerpt I used for Tessa's Blogfest of Death, but it works for this Blogfest too...death by weather. What's more fun than that? (literarily speaking, of course).

The setup: Rand is a rogue faerie-turned-human who's pissed off at humankind and wants to start a war with them. Victor is his right hand man. In this scene they're testing a new weapon.

***************

“Is everything ready, Victor?” Rand asked his mage.

"Yes, Master.”

“Good. Then let’s get on with the test.” While Abelo was out searching for his daughter, Rand had decided to test his newest weapon. He needed something to keep him busy, and since weapons test was on the to-do list there was no better time than the present.

He’d chosen the small, isolated community of Fossil in central Oregon as his target. The name was just too ironic. He and Victor were positioned on a high point outside of town and prepared to launch the weapon prototype.

Rand lifted the lid on the wood crate which housed the device. Once the lid was open, the weapon floated free of the housing and hung in mid-air, a thing of beauty. The size of a basketball, it hissed and crackled with electric blue energy. It took Rand’s breath away.

“Shall we?” He asked Victor.

Victor handed Rand a vial of opaque white liquid, which he uncorked and swallowed in one gulp. The warmth of the substance tracked down to his center and then quickly raced to his limbs, energizing him with additional magic. He closed his eyes and began to whisper the spell he and Victor had designed to direct the weapon. His arms out at his sides, he threw his head back as the words gained momentum and his natural gifts took over. It felt good to control the weather again. He had so little opportunity anymore and after years of not being able to use his magic, he reveled in it now. Wind began to rush and gray clouds swirled from nowhere, obscuring the blue sky. The weapon responded to Rand’s urgent words, first spinning wildly on its axis, then whizzing away as it closed the distance between the men and the town. The tempest blew stronger, dark menacing clouds forming overhead as the weapon neared the first buildings.

Rand called on the winds and weather, bending them to his will until he was satisfied to see a twister drop lazily from the clouds as the weapon reached the center of town, where it hovered, waiting for the twister to meet and trigger it.

Even from his vantage he could see humans as they stepped out of their homes and businesses and stared up at the sky, no doubt wondering at the anomalous tornado – and the strange glowing orb hovering over the center of town. He snorted a derisive laugh. How stupid they were – when faced with a threat from nature, they stood like fools and gaped at it. It wasn't until the twister breached the edge of town that people began to race around, frantic and confused about where to go. Rand urged the wind to blow harder, pushing the tornado to meet the weapon. And then they met in a glorious blue explosion of destruction. When the orb burst it released its energy in a shock wave which shot straight down and then rippled outward. As it came in contact with each human being they disintegrated into a cloud of dust and blew away in the wind. Blue lightning streaked across the sky, and fat drops of rain began to fall as the last of the people in town erupted into puffs of dust and disappeared into the storm until the town was deserted and every single human being had been wiped from existence.

“Perfect,” Rand said. “Absolutely perfect!”

*******************

Hope you liked it. Now go check out the rest of the entries in the Weather Blogfest at A Little Slice of Nothing!

MFA Residency: Day 6

2010-08-07T02:56:00.000-07:00

Friday was the last day of the residency, which is always bittersweet because it means the fun is almost over. But by Friday everyone is getting kind of burned out and tired from constantly being on the run for a week, and missing family, etc.

We finished out the second day of the fiction workshop which was, of course, awesome. Even though my piece was workshopped on Monday I still learned a lot by listening to and participating in the critiques of other people's writing. It's a good way to find out what works and what doesn't for form, style, and story. And some of these people are writing some very fascinating projects.

Later in the day we had a lecture and then a wrap-up where we discussed the things that work and don't work for the residency and the program in general. It's sort of the program administrators' way of doing quality assurance, and I don't know how useful it is to them, but it seems to be a good forum for students to air grievances and highlight the things about the program that work best for them.

Finally, the day ended with an open mic for students and readings by a couple of former students from their current works. I read a piece of flash fiction for the open mic (nervously), and some of the other students read some really good writing...mostly poetry, which is really hard to do well. I was seriously impressed with a couple of them.

So now it's early Saturday morning and I'm mostly packed (except for my laptop), getting ready for the shuttle to take me to La Guardia. I slept crappy last night anticipating a long day of travel so I'm tired and I'll likely be cranky when I get home, but seeing the shiny happy faces of my kids and hubby will temper that somewhat, I'm sure. It will certainly be nice to sleep in my own bed tonight.

MFA Residency: Day 5

2010-08-05T16:23:00.001-07:00

For those of you following along, today was day 5 of my MFA residency. I woke up still feeling slightly dizzy and sore but I took some Dramamine and Advil and those seemed to do the trick.

The morning workshop I attended was "Teaching Creative Writing to Non-Writers." The instructor was really great and she gave us some awesome ideas for ways to engage non-writers. We participated in several very fun and productive writing exercises that I can see being useful for teaching both creative writing and adaptable to academic/composition writing. So I was inspired after the workshop.

Then it was lunch time and I started getting really nervous because this afternoon at 2:00 was the agent Q and A panel followed by agent meetings...and I was signed up to meet with an agent. The panel Q and A was fantastic. Four different agents representing vastly different genres, all in the same room and available for us eager writers to pick their brains...which we did. They were a wealth of information.

After the panel it was meeting time. I was totally freaked out trying to remember my one liner pitch, but as it turned out I didn't even need it. Several weeks ago we'd sent intro letters, synopsis and first 10 pages of our projects to the agents we were meeting with, and she didn't even ask for a pitch. She just launched into a discussion about my project and basically said she really liked my story and characters and thought the writing was good, etc.

I was really worried because it's not completely revised and polished, but apparently the agents make allowances for that when they meet with MFA students. Whew.

So she finally asked me, "you'll have this edited in, what, 1 month? 2 months?" and I said, "definitely!" She said, "good!" She said she only has one romance client herself, but she just hired a new agent who handles more romance and she said when I have the manuscript finished to send it to her new agent, then she gave me the new agent's e-mail address.

I'm so stoked!

So now I'm going to give up sleeping and spend every waking minute that I'm not working, eating or doing other vital survival-related activities on editing.

Today was definitely an awesome day. *sigh*

MFA Residency: Days 2 thru 4

2010-08-04T16:21:00.000-07:00

I'm late posting info on days 2 thru 4, but we've been super busy, so please forgive my tardiness.

Day 2, Monday, was the first of a 2-day fiction workshop. All participants exchanged 10-20 pages of a current fiction WIP and critiqued it before arriving at the residency. Then we spent the 3-hour meeting time workshopping each others' pieces. Because it's such a wildly popular, well-attended, and intense workshop, it's split into 2 days. My piece was workshopped the first day and received very positive reviews. Whew. That's very good news since I'm going to be pitching it to an agent on Thursday. Hope she liked the first 10 pages I sent her.

Monday afternoon there was a lecture by one of the instructors, a very humorous reading actually, then we met for peer workshops where our group really just bounced around new project/plot ideas. I didn't have anything to contribute. Then Monday evening we had readings (one was really great one was okay) and the Flash Fiction Slam. I read for the flash fiction slam, but I was totally nervous and I had 2 pieces to choose from for reading: a cerebral type humor piece and a dark, grim piece. I chickened out on the dark piece and wasn't very happy with the reading of the humorous piece. But it was fun anyway.

Tuesday was supposed to be more workshops, meetings, lectures, but....

I got sick. It wasn't food poisoning, and I'm not entirely sure what the heck it was, but it involved mostly vertigo and dizziness and sore back and neck. So I spent the entire day in bed after ingesting Dramamine and Advil. There wasn't much on TV, but between what I could find on TV and a book to read, and room service, I made it through the day and after a decent night's sleep I was sufficiently better this morning to return to the MFA hijinks.

Today, Wednesday, was an interesting revision workshop, then a sort of sobering lecture entitled, "Can I Actually Make a Living At This," (i.e., writing). The conclusion was: sort of.

After that we sat thru a panel wherein program graduates talked about what they did for the internship/practicum component of their degrees. There was a wide range from working for a literary journal to teaching to working as a grant writer.

Finally, several students gave presentations summarizing their enrichment projects. One of the requirements of the program is to do an enrichment project which is not at all related to your thesis or your writing studies. For instance, one of the students today gave a powerpoint describing the Italian American Art Festival she developed. Another designed a bilingual newsletter for a small town in an effort to bring together the Latino and Anglo populations. The third presentation was another powerpoint describing the stage play the student produced and directed.

So only 2 more days. Time really flies at these residencies. And tomorrow is the agent panel and directly after that? Agent meetings. I'm so nervous I'm trying not to think about it, otherwise I might be sick. Wish me luck, okay? I'll let you know how it goes.

MFA Residency: Day 1

2010-08-02T03:53:00.000-07:00

Hey Everyone!

I was talking about a week ago about all the preparation I was doing for my MFA residency, and how I was looking forward to all the inspiration and creativity.

Well, travel was uneventful, thankfully, and I arrived without incident a couple of days ago and yesterday was the first day of actual workshop. I signed up for a session on flash fiction.

Before the residency we had all sent each other a piece of flash fiction and then yesterday we discussed flash fiction in general then workshopped each others pieces. It was a great experience. Everyone has such wide ranging stories and backgrounds, and most of the stories were well done. I got some valuable insight into my piece which allowed me to come back to my hotel room and revise it last night.

Yesterday afternoon we attended a panel where several graduates of the program spoke about their experience in the program and how it has propelled them in their careers...basically what they're doing now and how what they did in the program helped them to get there. It was very insightful.

We met with our mentors for the courses we'll be taking this semester so we could get down the nitty gritty of actual academic work.

Then in the evening we attended readings by a recent graduate from her memoir (it was very powerful stuff) and by one of the instructors (who is an awesome writer) from his recently published bestseller and from a novel he's currently working on.

It was a busy day, but that's what residency is all about. Packing an insane amount of academia, creativity, and inspiration into one week...enough to send you through the entire semester.

What's today (Monday) got in store? A fiction workshop, peer workshop, more readings, and a flash fiction slam contest tonight (I'm gonna read my newly revised flash fiction piece....wish me luck!!!)

Contest!

2010-07-29T09:18:00.000-07:00

We're having a contest over at Critique this WIP to celebrate reaching 100 followers. You really should go check it out. It would be a shame if you were to miss out on all the fun!

MFA Residency Countdown

2010-07-27T07:47:00.000-07:00

As many of you may know, I'm working my way through an MFA in creative and professional writing (2 semesters left, yay!). The program is low residency which means it's independent study for the most part, except that twice a year I travel to campus for a week-long series of workshops, panels, meetings, readings, etc.

The next residency is coming up July 31 - Aug 7. I've signed up for workshops in fiction, flash fiction, "obsession as the engine of literary invention," and "teaching writing to non-writers."

Plus, I'm so excited (and by excited I mean completely and utterly freaked out) that I will be meeting with an agent during the residency (every summer there's an agent panel and afterwards the agents take meetings with some of the students). Gulp. I'm dealing with this by pretty much not dealing with it. Although I should probably figure out how the hell to best use my meeting time to my best advantage.

On Monday afternoon there will be a flash fiction slam...of course I'm participating with a micro-fiction piece of 153 words. That should be interesting.

For the fiction and flash fiction workshops all the participants are required to send pieces ahead of time so that we can read and critique each other's work and be ready to workshop it. For the flash fiction workshop, that's not such a big deal. All 15 or so people each sent in selections of 1 to 3 pages. So was able to read through those pretty quickly. But the fiction workshop? With 15-20 people each sending in between 10 and 20 pages (most of them close to 20 pages because they insist on sending the page maximum), that comes to somewhere around 225 pages to read and critique in a week. Not so easy. I'm slogging my way through it now.

Finally, I'm doing my teaching practicum this semester by teaching two sections of composition at the local university (one on campus and one at the air force base annex). I'm madly trying to get a syllabus and lesson plans written since classes start on Aug 23. At least I managed to get books ordered for the course. Now I just need to get organized and finish the syllabus!

So Saturday morning I'll be heading to CT, and as I have for past residencies, I'll be blogging about the different workshops and activities.

I'm really looking forward to the fun!

On the Nature of Muses

2010-07-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

I had a great post planned for today, a companion piece to the adverb post from not long ago. But life got in the way and I haven't written it yet. I promise I'll get to it shortly, though.

In the meantime, please go check out today's post (authored by moi) at Critique This WIP, all about the Nature of Muses.

Enjoy!

Blogfest of Death

2010-07-17T20:06:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the lovely Tessa at Tessa's Blurb (and CritiquethisWIP) for hosting the Blogfest of Death!

I had another scene I was going to use, but I realized I'd already used it for the Murder Scene Blogfest a few months back and because I don't want to repeat myself, I decided to use a different scene. My antagonist leaves plenty of death in his wake, so I have several scenes to choose from.

Tessa's rules state that for the Blogfest of Death at least one person has to die...I went all out and killed a whole town. Mwahahahaha.

Ahem. Okay, so this scene is my antagonist, Rand, doing what he does best...being a bad boy. He's a rogue faerie-turned-human who's pissed off a humankind and wants to start a war with them. I think the scene itself is fairly self explanatory. Enjoy!

******

“Is everything ready, Victor?” Rand asked his mage.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Then let’s get on with the test.” While Abelo was out searching for his daughter, Rand had decided to test his newest weapon. He needed something to keep him busy, and since weapons test was on the to-do list there was no better time than the present.

He’d chosen the small, isolated community of Fossil in central Oregon as his target. The name was just too ironic. He and Victor were positioned on a high point outside of town and prepared to launch the prototype weapon.

Rand lifted the lid on the wood crate which housed the device. Once the lid was open, the weapon floated free of the housing and hung in mid-air, a thing of beauty. The size of a basketball, it hissed and crackled with electric blue energy. It took Rand’s breath away.

“Shall we?” He asked Victor.

Victor handed Rand a vial of opaque white liquid, which he uncorked and swallowed in one gulp. The warmth of the substance tracked down to his center and then quickly raced to his limbs, energizing him with additional magic. He closed his eyes and began to whisper the spell he and Victor had designed to direct the weapon. His arms out at his sides, he threw his head back as the words gained momentum and his natural gifts took over. It felt good to control the weather again. He had so little opportunity anymore and after years of not being able to use his magic, he reveled in it now. Wind began to rush and gray clouds swirled from nowhere, obscuring the blue sky. The weapon responded to Rand’s urgent words, first spinning wildly on its axis, then whizzing away as it closed the distance between the men and the town. The tempest blew stronger, dark menacing clouds forming overhead as the weapon neared the first buildings.

Rand called on the winds and weather, bending them to his will until he was satisfied to see a twister drop lazily from the clouds as the weapon reached the center of town, where it hovered, waiting for the twister to meet and trigger it.

Even from his vantage he could see humans as they stepped out of their homes and businesses and stared up at the sky, no doubt wondering at the anomalous tornado – and the strange glowing orb hovering over the center of town. He snorted a derisive laugh. How stupid they were – when faced with a threat from nature, they stood like fools and gaped at it. It wasn't until the twister breached the edge of town that people began to race around, frantic and confused about where to go. Rand urged the wind to blow harder, pushing the tornado to meet the weapon. And then they met in a glorious blue explosion of destruction. When the orb burst it released its energy in a shock wave which shot straight down and then rippled outward. As it came in contact with each human being they disintegrated into a cloud of dust and blew away in the wind. Blue lightning streaked across the sky, and fat drops of rain began to fall as the last of the people in town erupted into puffs of dust and disappeared into the storm until the town was deserted and every single human being had been wiped from existence.

“Perfect,” Rand said. “Absolutely perfect!”

*******

Now, go to Tessa's blog and follow the links to all the other fun death scenes!

Tagged - What's in My Bag?

2010-07-14T07:51:00.001-07:00

Looks like I've been tagged by the lovely Suzie over at Writer Junkie (and one of my partners in crime at CTW) to reveal what's in my bag/purse.

Let me start by saying I loathe carrying a purse so I try to use the smallest purses possible. This is my current purse:

The lighting is bad in my office where I took this pic, so if you can't tell the purse is powder blue. Not very exciting overall, huh? Okay. Here's the contents:

As you can see I like to keep it simple. A change purse for money, a checkbook and pen. My antique cell phone, clip-on sunglasses (cuz I wear glasses and it's easier to just clip on my sunglasses). Some loose change and a receipt. And for breath hygiene and appearance emergencies: gum, a compact and lip gloss. That's it!

So now I'm going to tag the rest of the girls in CTW!

Courtney

Jill (though don't think Jill has a personal blog...)

Tessa

Have fun girls!

Happy Birthday, Rachel

2010-07-10T12:40:00.001-07:00

Thirteen years ago today I gave birth to my only daughter, Rachel. Although the birth itself was an horrendous experience, and she and I barely survived it, she was the perfect baby and has been an amazing joy ever since then.

Happy birthday, my sweet Rachel!

A Luke Warm Defense of the Adverb

2010-07-05T18:22:00.001-07:00

If, as a writer, you're anything like me, the adverb, at least in the first draft, is your dearest friend. When you're in the midst of the fresh new love affair with your story, adverbs seem like a natural element which are at home sprinkled among your verbs and adjectives, frolicking with abandon and adding spice and verve to your prose.

And then you turn your baby over to your critique partners and whammo! the red (or whatever color your CPs use) "track changes" marks slash all of your lovely adverbs and you get vicious comments about choosing stronger verbs.

Adverbs are a class of words which modify verbs, adjectives, clauses, sentences and even other adverbs. They typically answer questions like: "when," "where," "to what extent," "in what way," and "how."

Although there are several different kinds of adverbs (including comparative adverbs [more/less]; adverbs of place [outside], purpose [in order to], and frequency [always/never]), the most commonly criticized in fiction is the adverb of manner, or the -ly form. Supposedly, these are the "scarlet letter" that mark writing as amateurish and weak. But I would argue that used judiciously and in proper circumstances, adverbs of manner can enhance your story.

There are several reasons why -ly adverbs are frowned upon in fiction:

1. They are redundant. In the sentence, "She screamed loudly," the loudness is already implied by the screaming, which is generally understood to be loud.

2. Adverbs make it easy to choose weak verbs. Compare: "He turned abruptly and she moved quickly toward him, 'I hate you,' she said harshly" with "He spun to find her stalking toward him, 'I hate you,' she growled." Still pretty melodramatic, but no cheesy adverbs!

3. By cutting adverbs you give yourself opportunities to show rather than tell. Instead of telling us that your heroine is beautifully groomed, describe for us her hair, her makeup, or the colors and textures of her clothing.

4. Why not choose a strong action verb instead? Try "sprint" instead of "went quickly" or "crave" instead of "really want."

5. Adverbs of manner are frowned upon in fiction because they tend to be distracting and prevent the reader from experiencing emotions or delving into the intentions behind the action. Good writing needs to pull the reader into the experience of the story rather than just relating what's taking place.

However, there are situations when -ly adverbs are appropriate, such as:

1. In dialogue. Realistic dialogue would include the use of adverbs because people actually use them when they talk. "I probably shouldn't steal money from my mother's purse because she will be seriously pissed off at me if she finds out."

2. They work as awesome placeholders when you're deep in the frenzy of a first draft and you don't want to take the time to craft the perfect sentence or search for just the right verb. Slap in a "looked longingly" and find a better verb in revision.

3. As long as you use them sparingly in places where they work hard and produce strong results, then -ly adverbs can be your friend.

As you can see, adverbs of all persuasion play an important role in fiction, but the dreaded -ly adverb can be especially tricky if you're not careful. However, if you use them sparingly and responsibly they can enhance your writing beautifully. (you see what I did there?)

Now, you tell me how you feel about adverbs!

Secrets Blogfest + Literary Crush Blogfest = Double the Fun

2010-06-29T21:31:00.000-07:00

So today is a double dose of fun as Tara over at Midnight Ink is hosting the Secrets Blogfest and Frankie Diane over at Frankie Writes is hosting the Literary Crush Blogfest. (Kristen Yard at Take It As It Comes is hosting the Bickering Blogfest, too but I don't have an appropriate scene for it!) Being the blogfest addict that I am, I had to participate!

Below is my Secrets Blogfest entry. It's from my current sci-fi WIP. The secret in question is that the two main characters don't speak the same language and are trying to communicate without words (for the most part). It's not a secret in the standard sense, but I think it still works. Setup: Jaska inadvertently finds himself on Earth where he runs into Amie who decides to help him. They're in New York heading for a subway but Jaska wants to explore this strange new world. Amie is the redhead to whom Jaska refers.

The door of this particular shop opens and someone walks out with a steaming cup of something and a round bread-like food wrapped in a papery cloth. The aromas flow from the open door and make my stomach growl. I grab the door from the person before it shuts, and I’m ready to go inside when I feel a hand on my arm. When I turn, I find the redhead with an exasperated look on her face. She’s babbling in her language and I can hear the translator buzzing and clicking in my ear, trying to keep up with her. It still doesn’t have enough information to translate, though. I just shrug and turn my back on her and walk inside. She makes a disgusted grunt at me, but follows me inside. I smile. On this planet less than a day and already I’ve got women following me wherever I go.

Inside, this shop apparently sells food and books. The ceiling is low and intimate and the décor is woods and sleek black. The walls are covered in bookshelves. The tables are packed and there’s a line at the counter where I can see a glass case full of foods. I head in that direction, cutting through the line of people so I can inspect the offerings. The redhead is close behind. “Hey!” she says and pulls me around by the shoulder so I’m facing her. Hmm. She must have said that to me enough that the translator figured out what she meant. I point at the glass case of food, then to my stomach. She raises an eyebrow at me and crosses her arms across her chest. It pushes her breasts up so they’re bulging at the vee in her blouse. Nice.

So I’m reduced to ridiculous sign language to communicate. I take a deep, appreciative breath, sniffing the good smelling food. I paste a silly grin on my face, then rub my belly and lick my lips. Think she’ll understand that? Apparently she does because she sighs and rolls her eyes, then goes to the counter, cutting in line, and says something to the guy working there. He looks angry at her, she sounds angry back, but he gets a big bag and I watch with my nose on the glass as he takes one of everything and puts it in the bag. She throws some green paper on the counter, grabs the bag out of the guy’s hand and shoves it into mine, then grips my other hand in hers and pulls me through the line and out the door. I chuckle at her when we’re back outside, but the look on her face is a mood killer. I make like I’m going to inspect the contents of the bag, but she pulls me along. I guess I’ll have to wait.

Jaska shares my obsessive love of pastry. Below is my Literary Crush blogfest entry. It's unconventional. I happen to adore Stephen King's Dark Tower series and my love letter is to Roland Deschain, the Gunslinger himself. (Frankie originally created this blogfest for YA characters, and I crush on some of them too but it felt a little too, um, cradle-robber creepy for a grown woman to be writing love letters to adolescent boy characters). I've got enough adult literary crushes to keep me busy writing love letters for a while.

Dearest Roland,

I know you don't have a lot of time for the frivolity of love given your obsessive quest to find the Tower and put the world right. I mean, clearly you've got your priorities and you don't let anyone get in your way as evidenced by the long line of dead bodies (both friend and foe) strewn along your back trail. But please take a moment to pause and hear me out.

Your nobility and dedication would make any king proud to call you knight. If only you knew the cruelty of the Tower you'd understand that it doesn't matter how many times you find it, there's nothing at the Tower that will put the world right. You keep making the same mistakes over and over and the Tower keeps playing its games with you.

My heart aches for you and I wish I could convince you that there's more to life than that blasted Tower.

I adore your bad boyness, your charisma, and your weathered cowboy good looks. Your quiet contemplation and practical wisdom coupled with the heart you keep so well hidden and protected all fan the flames of my ardor.

If you ever realize the futility of your quest, please remember me. Ka doesn't have to rule everything with an iron fist - you can make your own ka.

All my love,

~Margaret

One Lovely Blog Award - and New Friends

2010-06-27T19:38:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I also blog at CritiqueThisWIP which is the home of my critique group. We originally had five members, but due to other obligations we ended up losing three of them. Courtney and I were so lonely with just the two of us, we ran a contest and found ourselves three awesome new members! They are: Suzie, Tessa, and Jill. Please take a second to visit CritiqueThisWIP and welcome them to the group!

In addition to adding new members to CritiqueThisWIP, we're also adding new features. We're continuing Friday Fiction, which is an ongoing story where each member of the group adds a new scene every week. It's so much fun we decided we had to share it with all of you, and voila! Tuesday Tag is born! It will be a serialized story which will start on Tuesday, July 5th. One of the CritiqueThisWIP members will start the story, then the rest of us will add scenes on consecutive Tuesdays. After that? Every Tuesday we'll be inviting our bestest blog friends to add scenes to the story! If you can't wait to participate, go over to CritiqueThisWIP and let us know so we can get you on the schedule.

We're also going to be doing some book reviews and more author interviews (we've got a great line up of authors to interview, and we're going to interview each other so you can get to know us better!). Oh, and keep an eye out for an awesome contest once we reach 100 followers.

So, on the Lovely Blog Award. Suzie, one of the new members of CTW was sweet enough to pass this award on to me from her personal blog, Writer Junkie. Thanks Suzie! The rules of the award state:

1.Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and her/his blog.

2. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you've newly discovered.

3. Contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

First, let me say that Suzie is awesome for passing this along to me, and I humbly accept it. Secondly, I am nothing if not a rebel and a rule breaker, so I'm not going to pass it along to 15 blogs that I've newly discovered. Mainly because there aren't 15 I've newly discovered. Other than Suzie and Tessa, who already have the award. I'm terrible at singling out blogs for award love because I just love them all. So please, help yourself to the award cuz you all deserve it!

Dirty Dozen Movie Bloghop - Correction

2010-06-24T08:12:00.000-07:00

On Sunday I participated in the Dirty Dozen Movie Bloghop hosted by Alex Cavanaugh wherein participants list their 12 fave movies and explain why. After further consideration I need to make a correction to my list.

I know this seems somewhat inconsequential, but I'm going to do it anyway. Here is my original list. I need to change number 11. I originally selected Mulan because for some reason I felt compelled to include an animated movie in my list. Don't get me wrong, I still think Mulan is a decent flick, but on further consideration I wouldn't call it one of my favorites.

I am replacing Mulan with Wall-E. I loved this film from the first time I saw it for it's sweetness, humor, and social commentary. I think it works on so many levels but especially as both a cautionary tale and a heart-warmer.

So there you go. In the scheme of things, not an important announcement, especially considering that the dirty dozen bloghop is yesterday's news. But since I've got nothing else to talk about today, and this was inexplicably on my mind, I thought what the heck!

Have a great day! (and be nice to the Earth or you might end up fat, dependent on technology, and at the mercy of a giant megacorporation bent on world domination through consumerism...)

The Dreaded Synopsis

2010-06-23T06:04:00.000-07:00

This is going to be super brief (hopefully) as I'm in a frenzy trying to get synopses written for my two current WIPs.

First off, the girls at CritiqueThisWIP (me included) have decided we need to have synopses of the WIPs we're critiquing for each other so that while reading each others' work we'll have some idea where the story is going and can comment on issues we feel might be affecting the story or leading it astray. A good plan, I think.

Secondly, when I go to my MFA residency the first week of August there will be agents visiting the university specifically so that we can meet with them. Of course I want to take advantage of that opportunity! But those of us who wish to meet with agents must have synopses of our WIPs prepared and turned into the program chair by July 12. Yikes.

Anyone who's written a synopsis of their WIP knows it's not as easy as you think it should be, and they're right. And how do you write a synopsis for a pantser WIP? I have no idea what's going to happen in this novel until I sit down and write. This is not going to be an easy exercise. All of a sudden I need to do at least some minimalist plotting. *sigh*

By the way, we've got some new members over at CritiqueThisWIP. You really should go check them out. They're loads of fun and Courtney and I are really excited to have them in our group!

So now I'm off to fret over my synopses. Care to share any of your synopsis-writing experiences? Tips? Advice? Help?!

Movie Dirty Dozen Bloghopping Fest!

2010-06-20T19:44:00.000-07:00

This bloghop fest is brought to you by Alex J. Cavenaugh and the idea is to list your 12 fave movies of all time and...er...explain why.So here goes:

1. Galaxy Quest
This is, indeed, my all time fave movie. It makes me laugh every single time I see it and literally every line is quotable in useful ways. ("Yeah, you were giving me the 'we're dead' signal. I was agreeing with you. Like I know where the hold button is.")

2. Twister

I don't know why I love this movie. It's just a fun rollercoaster ride. And I love the Van Halen music.

3. 13 Going on 30

I know. It's fluff. But it's fun fluff.

4-6 Back to the Future 1, 2, and 3

Duh. These go without saying. But I'm going to say it anyway.

7. Stargate

Because like some people are Trekkies (see #8) I'm a Stargate fan (in all its incarnations)

8. Star Trek 2009

Yes, I do like all things Star Trek (except Deep Space Nine which was a heinous mutation unworthy of Star Trekdom). I enjoyed all the series (except DSN which doesn't count as Star Trek), but didn't really enjoy most of the movies until the 2009 version. Love it.

9. Laura Croft: Tomb Raider

I adored the video game and in turn the movie because Laura's a tough smart chick who doesn't take crap from anyone (and I think I secretly want to be her...did I say that out loud?!)

10. Toy Story

Who doesn't like Toy Story?

11. Mulan

I'm kind of on the fence about this one actually. I'm not a big fan of Disney because most of their female characters are wimpy or co-dependent and there's rarely an animated Disney film which doesn't begin or revolve around one of the main characters' parents or family members dying (think about it - Nemo? Mom and thousands of siblings. Snow White? Orphan. Cinderella? Dead father. Belle? Dead mother. Jasmine? No mother. Ariel? No mother. But Mulan has both parents and nobody's dead and she's a tough chick who doesn't take crap from anyone...um sound familiar? See #9. But I don't want to be her.)

12. Reign of Fire

Christian Bale? Matthew McConaughey? Dragons? Need I say more?

So what do you think of my Dirty Dozen? You should definitely go check out everyone else's (see below) and share yours!

Bad Boy Blogfest

2010-06-20T05:52:00.000-07:00

Wow! Another blogfest. I love these things. It's fun to share something I've written, then check out everyone else's scenes. Thanks to Tina over at Sweet Niblets for this one. I mean, who can resist a bad boy? It's like chocolate - you know you shouldn't but it's so hard to be good!

This scene is out of the new sci-fi novel I'm working on. It's first draft unedited, so be patient with me. The MC is Jaska. He's a contract slave from another galaxy on a mission to win his freedom but accidentally ends up on Earth where he meets Amie in New York. This is his first meeting with her from his perspective. (And a PTD is a personal translocation device).

I've never seen anyone with hair that color. She ran right into me while I was shaking the lousy PTD trying to get it working so I could get the hell out of wherever this place is. I’ve been to cities bigger than this one, some encompassing entire planets. I’m not intimidated by hordes of people living in such close proximity. It happens everywhere. But it is intimidating to find yourself in a place where the language is foreign. And I speak a lot of languages. A quick glance confirms that this is easily a third or even fourth world planet. No advanced tech and probably no off-world contact. Time to leave.

But then this woman runs into me and I can’t stop staring at the hair. It’s the color of desert sand at sunset. She asks me something in her language, which is harsh-sounding and tongue twisting. I quit staring at her hair and focus on her eyes, which are such a light blue they’re nearly gray. Her face is sprinkled with dainty freckles. She asks me something again.

“Look, lady, I can’t understand you,” I say, pointing at my ears like that’ll help her understand. I give the PTD another shake, then shrug my shoulders. “My translocation device is shot.”

She looks at me funny. I’ve known enough women to recognize the look. She’s attracted. I sigh. Then she grabs my arm and pulls. Not a good idea. It’s bad enough to have a chip implanted in my neck restricting me, but I’m not a fan of being man-handled. Even by a gorgeous woman. She backs off some and says something else. I can’t tell what from the words, but she softens her tone then offers her hand. Well, why not. The blasted PTD is dead and I’m not going to fix it standing here in the middle of all these people. If I’m going to need help it may as well be easy on the eyes.

I roll up the PTD and stuff it in my pack, then pull the translator from my compad and cram it in my ear. I’ve never used it because every kid learns enough languages to get by in the world before he’s ten. I’ve learned even more in my line of work. But I’m going to need the translator now. It’s supposed to be able to learn new languages quickly. Let’s hope. I sling my pack over my shoulder and take her hand. It’s slim and dainty in mine and her skin is cool to the touch. Damn. I’ve gotta be careful.

There you have it. Hope you enjoyed! Now, go over to Tina's place and read the rest!

Breaking The Rules Blogfest

2010-06-18T08:17:00.001-07:00

Ah, another blogfest! What could be more fun?! This one is hosted by the lovely Elizabeth Mueller. Participants are supposed to share "writing before you learned the rules," or "WIP just to spite the rules." I'm entering a piece from a current WIP which laughs in the face of the rules.

This selection is the very first bit of a new sci-fi novel I'm writing (um, sorry it's so long) which breaks the rules in these ways:

A) It's written in present tense. I know there's no hard and fast rule against writing in present tense, but it's not so commonly done so I wanted to try it.

B) The story is written in first person POV for both of the main characters. I wanted to write in first person POV but I couldn't decide which character's POV to write from, then I thought, why not both? I've clearly separated sections of POV and made distinct voices and so far it's working beautifully and I love the story. (This selection is the male MC's POV).

C) I'm totally writing this story as a pantser. I have no freaking idea what's going to happen next until I sit down and write. It's awesome fun!

I really should have known better than to accept Magda’s offer of freedom. I should have just served the rest of my sentence, however unpleasant, and been done with it. But no, she dangles sparkly, shiny freedom in my face and like a trained animal I salivate and wag my sorry tail and jump at it. I didn’t even ask what I had to do. I just said yes.

“Jaska, darling,” she says, her voice sultry, as if that will somehow get to me. Which it usually does. “I have a job for you. And if you promise to do it for me I’ll grant you your freedom.”

Her green eyes gauge my reaction and when she sees me perk a satisfied smile slides across her red lips. I curse under my breath. I really need to work on my poker face.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, knowing it’s going to cost me something big.

She waves a red-nailed finger at me as if I’ve been a bad boy and chuckles in her sex-goddess voice. I can’t help reacting. Gods, I hate her. “Oh no, honey, you have to promise me first.”

“Why should I trust you?”

She steps closer and runs her finger down my chest and I grab her hand, stopping it before she gets any lower. She’s made it clear what she wants since she bought my contract three years ago and dragged me here to this gods-forsaken outworld. I’ve been fighting her ever since. I’m just the next in a long line of contracts she’s bought, but I suspect I’m the first who hasn’t rolled over and jumped in her bed just because she winked. This only makes her more determined. Sure, she’s gorgeous at 5 - 11, long black hair any guy would kill to get his hands in, those come-hither-and-I’ll-make-it-so-worth-your-while green eyes, and curves to die for, but I’ve never heard the truth from her lips once and the fact that she’s so deep into the syndicate is enough for me to keep her at arm’s length.

Don’t get me wrong. A little crime never scared me. How do you think I ended up with a criminal contract in the first place?

“You have to trust me because you don’t have any choice,” she purrs.

“If I don’t have any choice, why offer me my freedom?” I ask. She just smiles and I can see the answer in her eyes. “You don’t really expect me to survive this little mission of yours, do you?”

She suddenly looks all innocent. “I never said that, pet.” She bats her black lashes my way. I cringe inside when she calls me that knowing that as long as she holds my contract that’s essentially what I am. And she knows it.

“Cut the crap, Magda. You wouldn’t offer me my freedom if you thought you’d actually have to pay up. It’s just to sweeten the pot so I’ll be more motivated. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Her smile turns sweet and she turns her back on me and sashays across the room to her desk. Pissed off or not, it’s tough not to appreciate that action. She picks up a scrap of paper then turns and props that fine ass on her desk, crosses her legs then crooks her finger at me, reeling me in like a fish. I don’t go immediately, but damn it she knows I will eventually so I just go to get it over with.

“Mmmm. You know me so well,” she swings her leg casually, her high heel dangling suggestively from her toe. I get just close enough to reach for the paper scrap in her hand where it’s hanging like her shoe between her first and second fingers. But just before I can snag it, she pulls it back. “You promise?” What a tease.

I roll my eyes at her and resist the urge to grab her by the neck and squeeze. “Yes,” I say between gritted teeth.

She extends the note to me again and I rip it from her fingers. It just has a name and planet on it: Gil Hjalmarr, Thyr.

I laugh at her. “Seriously? I don’t even know what you want yet, but it must be worth a lot if you want it from Gil.”

“He has a map I want.”

“A map? That’s it?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“To what?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Just get me the map.”

“Well, it would make it a mite easier to find if I know what the map’s to.”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

I scowl at her. She’s not making this easy, as usual. It’s like she wants me to get killed. My punishment for not submitting to her?

“Did you ask him nice? I mean, when you ask nice most guys trip all over themselves to give you what you want.”

“You know as well as I do Gil isn’t most guys,” she says, a grumpy warning in her eyes. “And you haven’t given me everything I want, either."

I laugh at her, genuinely this time. I ignore her blatant hint about giving her what she wants. That’s not going to happen. But I know Gil. He’s leader of the biggest criminal network in the galaxy. He makes Magda’s business dealings look like a sweets stand on the neighborhood corner. He’s humanoid but without all the inconvenient emotional baggage most of us lug around. Basically, he would be immune to Magda’s favorite forms of persuasion.

“So you didn’t even ask at all?”

“Oh, I asked. I needed to make sure he had what I wanted. Which he does. But of course he wouldn’t give it up.” Even her pout is pretty.

I sigh. “So you want me to steal this map from him?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And you give me your word of honor you’ll deactivate my contract once I bring you this map?”

“Indeed I will, darling. You’ll be a free man, two whole years early.”

“If I live.”

“If you live.”

I pretend to consider her offer, even though I know damn well that she knows I’ve already made up my mind. But a man’s gotta have a little pride, even if he is a contract slave to the most notorious vixen in the entire galaxy.

Okay, so there you have it. Now go check out the rest of the entries and enjoy!!

Creativity Workshop: Weekly Roundup

2010-06-15T06:32:00.001-07:00

It's time for another weekly creativity roundup...okay, it's 2 days late. But I'm working 2 jobs here and I'm running out of steam, both literally and creatively.

Which explains why this week was a creative failure. I'm too exhausted to think straight, much less be creative. It's all I can do to work on editing my WIP and writing on the sci-fi novel I started.

I'm going to make a concerted effort to participate in the creativity workshop this weeks, but I'm not holding my breath. I can feel it slipping on my priority list and unfortunately with the schedule I've got going now, something's gotta give.

On the upside, this was a pretty good weekend at the golf course. The weather was nice and tips weren't too bad.

Yesterday I was sitting on the cart waiting for a couple of groups to finish putting so I could ask them if they needed anything and one guy, who wasn't too far away, was getting all ready to put. He was concentrating on getting set just right and just before he hit the ball he looked up at me and deadpanned, "could there be any more goose shit on this course?!" Then hit the ball.

There are a lot of Canadian geese on the course and as a result there is, indeed a glut of goose shit on the course.

Next Top Title Blogfest

2010-06-12T19:08:00.001-07:00

I had big plans to participate in the Next Top Title Blogfest. I was going to use it as an opportunity to force myself to come up with an amazing title for my still untitled romance series and individual novels of said series.

But guess what?

I couldn't think of anything. Sad, huh?

I can think up a whole book (well, more than one, actually) but I can't think up a few words to call it (them).

*sigh*

Eventually each book and the entire series will have a name. Unfortunately, it's not going to be today.

But just because I was a *blogfestfail* doesn't mean you shouldn't go check out the rest of the entries - go now - right here!

Creativity Workshop: Weekly Roundup

2010-06-08T13:22:00.000-07:00

I totally forgot to post this on Sunday, or even Monday. So this week I'm super late.

Last week's goal was to write in the western genre. As I think I mentioned, I have an idea for a western novel, so I was going to bypass short story and instead begin this novel. I managed a short-story length start - about one chapter - and I'm happy with it so far. I still need some plot work, but I have a good idea where it's going, I just need more detail.

So I would say I met last week's goals to my own satisfaction.

And since this is the end of the first 4-week block of stories, I would give myself a B grade. I dropped the ball in week 3, so had to rearrange my goals - leaving out the detective genre altogether. But I accomplished what I set out to in sci-fi, horror, and western, however I didn't link them the way I intended using the motif of doors. Oh well.

This week I'm supposed to begin work on the second set of 4 stories which will focus on emotion. My original goal was to write 4 stories focusing on emotional extremes all in contemporary settings and linked by main characters being members of the same family.

So far I have absolutely no ideas whatsoever and it's already Tuesday. I guess I'd better get brainstorming.

Here's where I make all my sad and pathetic excuses: Um, trying desperately to work and scrape together enough money to pay bills. Stress of said underemployment is causing my nerves to fray. Working hard on edits and revisions of novel. Doing critiques for some crit partners. Still wanna write on the sci-fi and western novels I started in weeks 1-4. Etc.

But...sometimes stress is the best inspiration. Anybody else get flashes of genius when you're mired in mind-numbing, stomach-churning stress?

Me too.

Okay, so that's it for this week's roundup. There'll be another one next week, and I'll try to post it as close to Sunday as possible!

Paying for Good Service

2010-06-07T13:27:00.000-07:00

This is another golf course story.

Sunday I was working the course, and it was a pretty good day. Then I run across a couple of guys on the 7th hole who give me a load of crap because I didn't attend to them earlier (I generally stay away from hole 1 and 2 cuz people just left the clubhouse and they won't want anything yet...same with 9, 17 and 18 only because they're heading into the clubhouse soon.)

Giving me a load of crap the minute you get my attention isn't necessarily a good idea, especially if you're still on the front nine, because you've still got a lot of holes to golf.

These guys were loud and obnoxious and clearly not serious golfers. They were driving around like maniacs in the golf cart whooping it up. I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd tricked the cart out with a gun rack and antlers on the grille.

So I sell these guys some beer and they give me more crap about staying close by cuz they're gonna want lots of beer through the whole course. Then...they stiff me on the tip. Nothing, nada. I'm making a whopping $7 per hour, so I'm depending on tips to boost my income.

I go on my way, not feeling the least bit inclined to follow these jokers around.

When I make it back to the clubhouse, they've finished the 9th hole and they're at the clubhouse being loud and buying more beer. They give me yet more crap because they had to wait until they got to the clubhouse to get more beer (a mere 2 holes).

They go on their way, and after I reload the cart, I head out as well. I meet them again on the 11th hole. They buy more beer and stiff me on the tip again, but insist I follow them around so they can keep a steady supply of beer flowing.

My first thought is: Why don't you buy more than one at a time?

My second thought is: Why in God's name would I follow you around if you're not tipping me?

Driving the golf cart at a golf course will quickly turn anyone into a tip whore. I'm no exception.

So I don't see these morons for the rest of their time on the course, until I meet them up at the clubhouse after they've finished. They see me drive up and throw their hands out, shrugging, as if to say, "where they hell have you been, sweetheart? We needed beer!"

I just gave them my sweetest and most innocent smile and said, "Sorry, guys, it's been a busy day."

I taught them the most important lesson on the course: You pay for my service. I go where the money is.

So there you go, lesson learned.

Beach Scene Blogfest

2010-06-05T06:08:00.000-07:00

We have Rachel to thank for the Beach Scene Blogfest. Go check out her site for links to the rest of the beach scenes.

Mine is pasted below. It is from my second novel-in-progress, which has yet to be edited in any way. The set up is this: Rand is the antagonist (a rogue fae-turned-human), Victor is his shaman/sorcerer. They are on the hunt for a special mermaid whom they have finally located on a tropical island.

What is it, Master?

Let’s get a lay of the land, locate the mermaid. The instant you see her bind her magic.

How are we going to keep her from bolting?

If you work quickly enough you can get her magic bound and then transport us before she can escape.

Yes, Master.

They explored the island, which was fairly small, sticking to the beaches near the water. The sand was a nearly blinding white in the bright sunlight. A little over halfway around the perimeter of the island they found Naida frolicking in the surf near the beach with a couple of dolphins and a half dozen other merpeople. She threw her head back, laughing as she played. Rand was pleased to see she was completely disregarding her own safety.

Let’s wait until she comes closer to shore.

Yes, Master.

They held back, staying over the shore, paralleling the group as it made its way toward a nearby lagoon. Rand’s luck held as they took a break from their abandon for a rest in the shallow water. Naida and a couple of the other merpeople drifted lazily along the surface, laughing the entire way, until they reached the secluded beach where they collapsed in a wanton heap, their tails still slapping in the surf. Naida continued to giggle, as she tried to catch her breath, her skin and hair glistening with salty sea water.

They were completely unaware as Rand and Victor approached them, they were so absorbed in their hedonistic pleasure. This was going to be much easier than Rand could have hoped. They drew nearly close enough to reach out and touch them.

Now, Victor.

Victor didn’t even answer, throwing first a disabling spell then a binding spell and before Rand could utter another word Victor had transported them back to his chamber. Slightly disoriented by the sudden change in scenery, Rand was nevertheless happy to see Naida flopping around on the floor appropriately like a fish out of water, rage glowing in her turquoise eyes.

Dream Sequence Blogfest

2010-06-04T08:46:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Amalia T. over at Good To Begin Well, Better to End Well, for hosting the Dream Sequence Blogfest.

This is my teeny tiny entry.

Holly was dreaming of Shadow. In her dream, he was sweet and kind instead of aggravating. She smiled and sighed as he took her in his arms and held her. She didn’t care that it felt like giving in, it was where she belonged. He wasn’t condescending or possessive, he just fit. In her dream, he kissed her and she sighed his name. He kissed her again and she kissed him back. He tasted so real. His lips were soft and strong so she wrapped herself around him, and was rewarded when she heard him growl her name as his tongue snuck into her mouth. She pulled him closer.

Go to Amalia's blog and check out all the other entries. You won't be sorry!

National Donut Day

2010-06-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

Friday is National Donut Day and I can't even begin to explain how sublime that is. And although I adore carbs of all kinds, the best of the best, in my opinion, are donuts.

So pass me a chocolate glazed chocolate cake donut, or an apple fritter, keep one for yourself, and enjoy the celebration!

(I LOVE this pic. I just want to roll around in all those donuts. OMG. It's donut heaven).

Speculating on the Fickleness of Fate

2010-06-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

This story is not in the least bit related to writing. It isn't even related to the golf course which was, in fact, quite dull this weekend. Although my buddy Chuck was golfing on Monday. "Hey, it's Maggie!" says he. "Well, Margaret to most of the world, but Maggie to me." Oh my.

In fact, this story is related to my day job which I dislike in general, but which I'm grateful to have after being unemployed for two months.

So today I'm hard at work at my Cinderella drudgery when Outlook chimes in that I've received a new e-mail. Usually work-related e-mails consist of "this account's account specifics have been modified. Be sure to study the changes!" *yawn*

However, this e-mail said "new job posting." Okay, says I. I shall check it out. Which I did. And it was a job I'm qualified for and which would pay by the hour rather than production. Trust me when I say, this is a good thing.

The job announcement clearly states "you must be an employee of the company for 90 days before applying." I've only been with the company for, like, 17 days. But I think, I'm a rebel. What does it hurt to ask, right?

I send HR a cheerful e-mail enumerating my qualifications and attach my resume (which, by the way, they gushed over when I applied for my current job).

I get an e-mail back from HR person #1 who says, "you have to be with the company for 90 days before you can apply."

I send her a polite e-mail back saying, "this is the kind of job I wanted when I applied to the company but there weren't any available, so I took my current job with the understanding that if anything became available I'd be considered."

I get an e-mail back from HR person #2 repeating the 90-day company line.

Okay, I thought. So much for that.

Until later in the afternoon when I get another e-mail from HR person #2. "Good news! As of today the 90-day rule has been abolished. I've forwarded your resume to the hiring manager!"

I was like, huh? How coincidental is it that the very day I apply for a job I'm qualified for, but I haven't been with the company long enough to apply for, they decide to do away with said 90-day restriction?

I'm thinking one of two things is going on here: 1)Fate is messing with me - setting me up for another cosmic practical joke. The 90-day restriction is lifted but I still won't get the job. 2) Or, I'll get the job and it'll suck worse than the one I have now.

Generally speaking, I just don't trust Fate. It reminds me way too much of Death in Final Destination; it has a sick sense of humor and it stalks you relentlessly.

However, we shall see what happens. Stay tuned for the scintillating details (I know you're hanging on the edge of your seat....)

Creativity Workshop - Weekly Roundup

2010-05-29T12:38:00.001-07:00

I know, it's a miracle. Not only am I on time posting my creativity workshop weekly review, but I'm actually early. *gasp* I promise you friends, that the Earth has not spun off its axis, and it is not the onset of Armageddon that I have actually managed to post something pre-deadline.

So what, pray tell, has occurred that I'm posting early? Nothing. That's right. I accomplished absolutely nothing this week in terms of my creativity workshop goals. But I promise, I have excellent excuses:

1. I started a new job which had me in fits of anxiety all week. After being unemployed for 2 months I sucked it up and took another transcription job after I swore to all that is holy never to do that again. However, paying the mortgage and feeding the kids trump my deep dislike for my never-purposely-chosen career, so now I'm back at it and because I thought I had escaped the work I've done for nearly 20 years, and tasted a brief but sweet reprieve, I am now beset by anxiety attacks. I know, it's silly, but it can't be helped. I do continue to seek other employment, but the job market, it sucketh.

2. I've been madly working at editing my novel. My goal is to have it agent-ready by the first week of August, when my next MFA residency is scheduled. Often the university will invite agents to the residency and the students may make appointments to visit with them. I would very much like to have a finished novel to talk to them about. However, with only two months until the residency, I need to work my ass off to get my novel even close to ready.

3. State high school track meet was Friday (it's actually Fri and Sat, but our son only ran Friday) in Bismarck. We drove down Thursday after work and stayed the night, then sat in 90+ degree heat all day long (I forgot sunscreen and I am now a beautiful shade of medium rare. I even burned thru my shirt. yikes.) Son didn't do as well as he'd hoped, but it's his first trip to the state meet so at least he knows what to expect for next year. (The pic is Son with his 4x800 relay team - he's second from left.)

So, what is next week going to hold for me as far as the creativity workshop? Well, I'm going to have to rearrange my goals. For this first 4-week block I was going to write stories in 4 different genres: sci-fi, horror, western, and detective. My rearrangement is going to consist of dumping the detective genre, mostly because it'll likely just frustrate me, but also because I really want to at least start the western. So I'm going to chalk up this week as a wash and start next week fresh with the western. I'll be working the golf course Sunday and Monday (weather permitting...it's gray and drizzly today the day after 90+ degrees...go figure ND weather), so we'll see just where I can cram writing into my schedule this week.

Wish me luck!

And hope everyone has a good Memorial Day weekend, whatever you're up to!

This Week on the Course

2010-05-25T07:04:00.000-07:00

Most of you know I'm driving the beer cart at the local golf course for my summer job. This weekend was pretty fun. I only worked Friday and Sunday because Saturday was the high school regionals track meet and since my son was running, I wanted to be there to watch him (he qualified for state in the 4x800 relay).

First, I've got to say, there's a surreal feeling to doing this job. How many of you have ever played Sims Golf? I have, and driving the golf cart around the course is eerily like playing that game. The same sounds of geese honking, balls being whacked, etc. And I'm Sally the refreshment cart girl (or whatever her name is, I forget at the moment). Frequently as I make my rounds I'm put in mind of Sims Golf and it makes me giggle.

So anyway, this Sunday was a dud. The weather was nice, but nobody was on the course. I spent six hours driving around in circles and only sold about $150 worth of stuff. The highlight of the day was catching the same guy peeing on two different trees.

Friday, however, was a hoot. In North Dakota, Canadian geese are "protected" and they're freakin' everywhere on the course. You literally end up chasing them out of your way. Golfers have to golf around the geese, you're serenaded by their endless honking, and since it's spring it's baby Canada goose season, so there are dozens of little puffy yellow geese everywhere. At one point, as I sat patiently waiting for a herd of them to cross the path, I counted 23 babies being urged along by two grownups. Holy moly, that's a lot of kids.

While we're talking about animals, there are tons of ground squirrels on the course too. I nearly ran one over Friday. Well...technically he ran under the cart as I was driving. I squealed and waited for the bloody crunching sound, but he was lucky - he timed it perfectly to get under the cart between the wheels without being squished.

The Canadians were out golfing in droves Friday. Nice afternoon, eh?

It was a beautiful day, but super windy. This, of course, prompted multiple ball jokes.

- All the guys on the course or golfing balls to the wind.
- I've never seen so many guys wandering aimlessly in search of their balls.

You get the picture. I amused myself no end all day long - until I was actually hit by a flying ball. That had me on guard the rest of the day. It's no fun to be whacked by balls falling from nowhere out of the sky.

Because of the weather, I couldn't keep enough beer stocked on the cart. Of course there are always a few wise guys who think they're funny when you ask what you can get for them and they answer, "well, I'll take a cold beer unless you've got some warm liquor." Haha. So clever. Those guys are usually halfway hammered already and think they're seriously amusing when they're just idiots. I did sell a record 18 beers at once to one group of four guys, though. And they were also already well on their way to drunk. I was hoping I left the course and was safely home before they hit the road. Yikes.

At one point, as I was parked between holes 4, 6 and 7 waiting for customers to show up, there were three older guys finishing up hole 4. It turns out one wasn't wearing a shirt but I hadn't actually seen him yet. Some older lady finished hole 6 and saw me sitting there. She came up to chat and confided to me:

"Have you seen the guy golfing without a shirt?"

I said no.

"Well, I'm 63 and nobody would want to see me out here golfing without a shirt."

That goes without saying. She was a heavy 63, too. Yucky mental image.

"He must think he's some kind of Adonis. Nobody wants to see that. Especially with man boobs."

I laughed, not knowing the guy's like almost right behind her, putting on the 4th green.

"Well, you have a nice day sweetheart."

Okie doke. When she left I focused on the guys behind her, one of whom was Adonis of the man boobs. Ewwww is all I've got left to say on the subject except that just because you can legally go shirtless doesn't mean you should.

Finally, I'm starting to learn the names of some of the regulars on the course. It helps to ingratiate myself with the good tippers, and when you're making a living mostly off of tips, ingratiation is an important part of the job. I've learned Tim, who drinks Coors and spends a lot of money on the course, and is a super good tipper; there's Auggie (which I think is short for August, but I never asked), who doesn't always buy beer but he's nice enough anyway; and then there's Chuck who I met a couple weeks ago. He told me his name was Chuck and asked me what my name was. Margaret, I say. That triggered a discussion among him and his group about nicknames for Margaret.

"Do you go by Maggie?"

No.

"Don't insult her. How about Marge?" another guy in the group asks.

No. And how Maggie is an insult I'm still trying to figure out. If I had to choose between the two it would be Maggie. Marge? Really? Blech.

By this time they'd all teed off and started the trek to the next hole.

"See ya later Maggie," says Chuck.

Okay, next time around Charles, I say. This elicits a hoot of laughter from him. So this weekend I see him again. He doesn't buy anything, but hollers across at least one hole:

"Hey! It's Mags!"

Indeed. He thought that was pretty funny. I had no answer for him. Just waved and kept on driving.

Wonder what next weekend's gonna bring?

Creativity Workshop: Week in Review

2010-05-24T07:55:00.000-07:00

So here we are at another Monday and my week in review is a day late - as always.

This 4-week segment of the Creativity Workshop is, of course, my self-challenge to experiment with writing in different genres. This week past I was going to write a short story in the horror fiction genre. Why? I don't know. I don't read horror, per se, and I don't watch horror movies, but I decided to write a horror story because it was so far outside of my comfort zone as to be a serious challenge.

At first I was like, WTF am I going to write?! I considered something zombie-related, but decided against it (maybe another time). I was finally inspired for a story idea by a comment made by one of my MFA colleagues on our online workshop. He said, about another colleague's poetry, "I felt like painting a giant, dark, wall-sized abstract painting and scratching those poems into it with a bloody knife." Great compliment, eh?! So anyway, that inspired me to write a horror flash fiction. I know it's kind of a cop-out to write flash fiction for a creativity workshop, but I actually think it worked well. Sometimes super-short can be super-compelling.

So what genre am I going to attempt this week? Western. Yep, pardner. I've had an idea for a western novel for a while now so I'm going to start exploring that in greater depth. Again, not sticking strictly to the short story form, but it's a creativity workshop and this is my opportunity to push myself into a place where I'm not necessarily comfortable, but a place I need to go nonetheless. Otherwise I'm likely to keep pushing this story down the "to-do" list until I never do it.

This week I'll work on doing some character studies (they're not going to be the same old overdone cowboys - MC is a woman), do some research into the old west for the purposes of becoming familiar with setting (maybe reread some Louis L'Amour?), do some brief outlining, then start writing the story.

Logline/Hook Line Blogfest

2010-05-22T15:49:00.000-07:00

I'm tardy posting this, but only because I was at the regional track meet all day!

Bryan over at the Time Guardian Blog was kind enough to host this blogfest today, and since I can't pass up a good blogfest, I've posted my five loglines below. However, I post them with one caveat: I just now wrote them, so they're most likely not agent-worthy!

Anyway, hope you enjoy them and be sure to check out Bryan's site for links to all the other participants!

1. Holly Reed yearns to belong, but when she learns she's half faerie, and the father she's never known is a renegade bent on killing her, the only way she'll be allowed to stay in the fae realm is to accept the protection of a faerie she just met who also claims she's his soul mate.

2. Meeting her soul mate is the last thing on her mind when Holly Reed discovers she's half fae, but his protection may be all that saves her from being killed by her renegade father.

3. Holly Reed isn't the least bit interested in marriage, especially to a faerie who claims he's her soul mate, but when Holly discovers her father is a renegade faerie who wants her dead, marriage may be her only chance to survive.

4. Discovering she's half faerie turns Holly Reed's world upside down, but things only get worse when she learns that her father is out to kill her, and her only hope of safety is to accept the protection of a faerie she just met who claims she's his soul mate.

5. When Holly Reed discovers her father's a renegade faerie out to kill her before he starts a war with humankind, her only chance for survival may be the faerie who claims she's his soul mate.

So which one do you like best?

Let's Talk Blogfest

2010-05-17T21:49:00.000-07:00

The blogfests are flying hot and heavy around the blogosphere...which is fine with me cuz they're loads of fun. Today is the Let's Talk blogfest hosted by Roni over at Fiction Groupie. After you read my sizzling dialogue (ahem) go over to her site and check out all the other links. You'll be so sorry if you don't!

So, this scene is from chapter two of book one of my still unnamed paranormal romance novel and trilogy. Dusty is a faerie, Bamboo is a cat, Holly is a human who has yet to discover she's actually half faerie. This is part of the conversation when Holly meets Dusty for the first time.

“What are you?” She repeated.

“You can see me? And hear me?” He asked.

“Of course I can. Why wouldn’t I be able to? You’re plain as day.”

“It’s night.”

“Not quite. More like evening.”

“Still, it’s hard to see in the evening sometimes. I could be a trick of the light.”

She giggled at him, her fear quickly dissipating. “That doesn’t explain hearing you.”

He appeared to consider that. “You’re right. Maybe you’re dreaming and it just seems really real.”

“Uh, no. I’m pretty sure I’m awake.”

“But you shouldn’t be able to see me or hear me. I don’t understand.” He landed on the handrail of the banister again and began pacing, arms behind his back, leaning forward and appeared to be deep in thought. He muttered to himself as if she weren’t there. “There must be something about her. Some reason why she can see me. It’s just not right. I should be invisible.”

Bamboo meowed.

“You hush up kitty, you already made a mess of things. If it weren’t for you she never would have seen me. I don’t want your opinion anymore.”

“Wait, you can talk to my cat?” she asked, eyes wide with amazement.

“Sure. I can talk to all kinds of animals.”

“Okay, back up a minute. What exactly are you? Do you have a name? Where do you come from?

“My name is Dusty. I’m fae. I live in the forest.”

“What’s fae?”

“Faeries.”

“You’re a faerie? But that’s impossible. There’s no such thing as faeries.”

“Wrong.”

And as he said it, she felt the truth of it. It was like something in her heart woke up and felt right.

“Are there more of you out there?”

He had stopped pacing and stared hard at her, his eyes dark now. “I really shouldn’t be talking to you at all, and I definitely can’t tell you anything more about fae. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why? I’m not going to hurt you.”

He looked surprised at her comment, and then his face fell into sadness. “I’m sorry, but I can’t believe you. You may not mean to hurt us, but somehow you will.”

“I would not!”

“You can’t be trusted. I’ve already said too much. You seem nice enough, but I’m going to have to make you forget you met me. It’s the only way to keep us safe.”

“Now wait just a minute…”

He goes on to mesmerize her from there, but there's no more dialogue in the chapter and since this is a blogfest about talking, I cut it off here.

Now I'm going to go start reading all the others! Have fun and enjoy the blogfest!

Anecdotes from the Course

2010-05-16T20:56:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I'm driving the beer cart weekends at the local golf course in order to earn some extra cash.

Unfortunately, I fell victim to a nasty stomach bug on Friday which meant I couldn't drive the beer cart on Friday or Saturday. Hubby works at the course every summer, too (he's the chef...err...cook). He wasn't scheduled to work on Saturday but graciously volunteered to take my place on the cart so at least we'd keep the money in the family. The big turd earned over $120 in tips during his shift (none of which, I might add, he was willing to share with me).

I was well enough to work on Sunday and because it was such a beautiful day I was looking forward to raking in the tippage. For some inexplicable reason, the course was nearly a barren wasteland. Nary a golfer to be seen. I managed a measly $40 in tips for a six hour shift. A paltry sum.

I was amused when one golfer handed me a dollar tip and quipped that he was "contributing to the college fund." (like a buck would put me over the top so I could afford tuition). Ironically, I am a grad student. However, I suspect that either he didn't look very closely at me and simply assumed that because I am female and I drive the beer cart that I must be a 20-something coed (which I'm not), or else I can actually pass for a 20-something coed (pffft - excuse me whilst I scoff).

I was not so amused - nay, quite irritated in fact - by a cranky old guy who told me what a crock it was that I was out of Snickers bars (I had actually just sold my last one to a guy at the previous hole...they were a popular item). He ranted about how it was bullshit that all I had left was M&Ms, KitKats, Reeses, Salted Nut Rolls, and Twix. "Well, that's all just a bunch of crap."

I longed to tell him what he could do with the non-existent Snickers. The stupid candy bar was only going to cost him a buck, no matter which one he chose, and he wasn't going to tip me anyway, so I was eager to move on. He finally bought a Reeses, and bitched about it the whole time, and I had to bite my tongue while thanking him sweetly. I nearly gagged on it.

Otherwise, I sold somewhere in the neighborhood of 130 beers and 46 sodas in six hours. I'm really hoping next weekend I can capitalize on three days of tip-worthy weather. And in the meantime...I'm going to find out where Hubby hid his tip hoard from Saturday and siphon some off. He'll never even realize what happened.....

Creativity Workshop: Week in Review

2010-05-16T19:49:00.002-07:00

As part of the creativity workshop I'm participating in over at Merrilee's place we're required to post a review of the week just past, while at the same time recap our goals for the coming week.

This week in review: I chose to open the first four-week sequence by writing a sci-fi story. I think overall I would call this a success. I did some research into the genre in general, developed characters, setting, and plot, and began writing the story. Unfortunately, I'm having difficulty wrangling the short story form. Used to be, back in the day, that's all I ever wrote. Now it seems that I'm novel-fixated. The story I plotted quickly mutated into a screenplay in my head but no matter how much I fought with it, the best I could do was begin a novel. Which, in the end, I don't count as a failure because it could turn into an awesome novel. I'm certainly quite pleased with the 3500 words I managed to write over the course of the week.

Recap of next week's goals: This is where I start fidgeting. The three remaining genres I plan to write in this first four-week block are western, horror, and detective. For some reason detective freaks me out the most so I'm saving it for last. I already have an idea for a western novel which I'm going to cheat and use as the basis for the western genre story I plan to write...so basically I'm just going to start that novel. Horror has me...well...horrified.

I know absolutely nothing about horror as a genre, at least in literature. My only exposure to horror has been in movies, and even then it's been limited because I just don't watch horror films. I really hate slasher flicks, and don't consider them "real" horror because they're just gratuitously bloody. So, where does that leave me? I could go with psychopathic criminal kind of horror...but that makes me uneasy and I don't think I can write about that. I find bugs horrifying, but I wrote a horror story about bugs already so I should try something else. For some bizarre reason I find myself amused by zombies - probably because they're so ridiculously unrealistic as to be humorous.

So I guess basically I have no plan for this week other than I'm going to write a horror story. I'm going to fly by the seat of my pants. Maybe I'll write it as a micro flash fiction so it's over faster. We'll see how the whole thing turns out. Wish me luck.

Flirt Fest Blogfest

2010-05-16T05:46:00.001-07:00

Today's the Flirt Fest Blogfest hosted by my critique group over at Critique This WIP! I've pasted my flirty scene below. After you read mine, be sure to go over to the Critique This WIP site and read click the links to read the rest!

The setup: Holly and Shadow are faeries. The two of them have only recently met and there's chemistry between them, but they're confused by it. Holly is an empath, which is why she can sense the emotions around her. In this scene they're at a Lunasa harvest festival. I only recently added this chapter to the novel, so it is, as of yet, unedited.

She kept her eyes on Shadow who seemed content to continue watching her, for now. His steady stare stoked a heat in her belly which quickly translated to her cheeks. The swirling storm of everyone else’s wild emotions just outside her focus was getting stronger, the drumbeat more insistent, and Shadow’s gaze possessive.

She sipped her drink, keeping her eyes on him. She thought they’d stand there deadlocked all night as the party raged around them until he took another long draw from his drink, placed it on the table then started in her direction. She watched his progress, her hand sweating and her mind racing. What’s going on with this guy? When he reached her he took her cup from her and placed it on the table, too, then took her hand and led her to the dance floor. He took her in his arms where, she noted with not a little chagrin, she felt right at home. In a daze her arms went around him, their eyes never leaving each other.

“Dance?” he asked, a cocky grin on his face.

To her own horror she realized her mouth was hanging open and she was still staring at him, as if in a trance. She snapped her mouth shut and broke eye contact, shaking the cobwebs from her head. Was he using some faerie magic to lure her in? But she could sense his feelings clear enough; he wasn’t faking his attraction to her, he just wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“It looks like we already are,” she said, feeling it was safer not to look him in the eye for now. He had some power over her she needed to figure out. Dancing with him sure wasn’t helping. His hand at her low back, he pulled her closer until they were snug and then with his arm wrapped around her he swept her off her feet, hovering into the crowd above them. This took her by surprise and she clung to him. “Whoa!”

He chuckled. “Just use your wings.”

She blushed, feeling silly. She was so distracted by him she’d forgotten about them. He lifted her chin with his finger, bringing their eyes back into contact, and her heart lurched again.

“Relax,” he said, burying his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and brushing his thumb over her cheek. “This is supposed to be fun. You’re tense.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” She asked.

“You get right to the point, don’t you?”

“The last time I saw you, you ran away like I was a leper.”

She was finding it easier to deal with him if she was irritated. Otherwise was afraid she’d get lost in him, he was that overwhelming to her senses.

“Well,” he said, a wicked grin spreading slowly across his lips, “as you recall, the last time I saw you, you were stark naked.”

“I guess you weren’t so impressed if my nudity sent you running.”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say I was taken aback.” Still holding her close he traced the line of her tank down one shoulder, across her chest stopping briefly at the valley between her breasts, then back up the other shoulder, making her shiver. “But as I recall, your nudity was quite impressive.”

The heat bloomed on her face again. Between the wine and the music and Shadow coming on so strong she found herself flustered and confused. She didn’t buy his lame excuse for disappearing so quickly the last time they were together. He had definitely been freaked out. And now here he was oozing sex appeal. The way he was moving against her, holding her so close now that she could feel his breath in her ear, and the way he smelled, so masculine, like an invitation to remove her clothes and be ravaged, was fogging her mind so she couldn’t think straight.

He leaned in and laid a gentle kiss on her cheek, then pulled back enough to stare into her eyes again. She forced herself to breathe. One of his brows went up and a slow, confident smile developed on his lips before they descended toward hers.

Sonnet Throwdown

2010-05-12T07:28:00.001-07:00

So, I mentioned yesterday in my Author's Apology (a la Chaucer) that a while back Simon and I agreed to a sort of sonnet duel. I'll admit, I'm intimidated by his skillz. However, I don't back down from a challenge, so I decided to write a story-telling sonnet sequence involving not only all of the subjects he challenged me to write about, but also all of the subjects he listed in his "most epic contest in the blog universe" (the entire list is: symphonic metal, vodka, writing, cycling, Scotland, tattoos, Simon, golf, beer, flirting, old men, me).

So, without further ado, here is my 8-sonnet sequence. Please keep in mind: 1) I am not a poet; 2) this sequence is meant to be snarktastical, not classical; 3) Please forgive the not always perfect meter and the occasional stretch when rhyming.

By the way, since I have yet to title this baby, brownie points to the person who comes up with the best title for it!

Sir Simon, our hero, a right proper Scot

(No really, he has a tattoo to prove it)

Master of wordplay, and skillful bon mots

A poet and scribe, of unequalled wit

Journeyed to the glorious land of Blog

Where he found himself outnumbered by far

Man among women, the clear underdog.

He flirted, cajoled, and bantered galore

Making the ladies of Blog swoon and sigh

But when legions of followers did not

Flock to his side, he was sure he knew why

‘Twas his gender that ailed him – a lot.

But he’d learned a lesson, and now he knew

What it felt like to walk in women’s shoes

The ladies of Blogland treated him right

(Cuz we all know it’s an actual place)

They offered umbrellad drinks every night

Life was sweet, lived at a leisurely pace

But Sir Simon was restless, for manly

Endeavors. He craved vodka and metal

(Of the symphonic variety)

So he resolved ‘twas time to test his mettle

With a quest for his yearned-for libation.

Quickly he made his way to the stable

Keeping to shadows, his nerves tight with tension

He must find a ride both sturdy and able.

He found Schwinn, and Fuji, and Roadmaster,

But chose Peugeot – because it was faster

He jumped on his bike and charged from the scene

Giddy with joy to finally be free.

Heading east for Scotland, so long unseen

And so he began his own Odyssey.

His trip went well, obstacles avoided

Except for the sirens: he listened and loved

Crushing on Charlotte and Simone the Redheaded

But thirst for vodka and homeland beloved

Were stronger than the sirens of metal.

Slightly heartbroken and melancholy

Face to the wind, and his mind on his goal

With no more ado continued his journey.

Still deep in thought he had no way to know

Nearby was trouble for him and Peugeot.

Because this story is utter nonsense

(and because he is the great Sir Simon)

With the laws of physics he quickly dispensed

And easily crossed the Atlantic Ocean

On a bicycle, only to find his

Beloved homeland ruled by a new queen.

He parked Peugeot outside of her palace

Beside a strange squat cart, and surveyed the scene.

As far as his eye could see were scores of

Old men swinging clubs at little white balls

Urging them down tiny holes with love.

By this strange turn, Sir Simon was appalled

Determined to get answers he entered

The palace, and by his courage was bolstered.

He found the queen in a cozy study

Curled by a fire and reading a good book.

Instead of traditionally queenly

She seemed to be down to earth, by the look.

“Welcome, Sir Simon. I am Queen Embee”

“Good lady, what have you done to my home?”

“You would have these men wear skirts so wee,

Eat haggis, and fore’er the highlands roam?”

“’Tis Tradition!” he roared, all riled up.

“This system works: I sell them beer, we flirt

For a while, they play golf. A good setup.”

“I won’t have it, the old ways must revert.

Back to old men in pubs where they’re well met.

And all the rest, on this I’m firmly set.”

“Then, Sir Simon, I will make you a deal.

I know ‘tis the vodka grail you truly seek.

Tho your homeland ire you really do feel,

‘Tis not the ultimate goal that you seek.

Those old men that you see golfing outside

All came in search of the vodka grail too.

I know its location, which I will confide

If you win the challenge I give to you.

In addition, should you succeed I will

Return this land to its old traditions.

But if you lose the land is mine and you’ll

Join the rest of the losing cretins.”

“I have little choice but to agree,” quoth he

If I am to have the grail and be free.”

“If you dare, choose your weapons, Good Lady.”

Queen Embee laughed, “I choose sonnets my dear.”

“Beg pardon? Methinks I misheard you maybe.”

“Indeed you did not. ‘Tis a form I revere.”

“Then I am game and on you should bring it.”

And so it began, the hero and queen

Trading sonnets for more than a fortnight

That neither could win was an unforeseen

Until to a draw they agreed with delight.

“You are a worthy opponent, Good Man.

Honorable and true, ‘twas a good fight.

I shall reward you by gifting half this land

And by relinquishing to you the grail.

With no clear winner, ‘tis a right fair deal.”

“Good Lady, I am humbled by your skill

And tho I weep that the Land of Scot will

Not remain whole, take what I can get I will.”

He bowed, she nodded, their bargain fulfilled.

“And now let us celebrate, Good Hero.”

With a flick of the wrist the grail appeared

A fifth of vodka which set his eyes aglow.

They drank and to each other they cheered

And to two new nations: The Land of Scots

Where traditions continue to rein true,

And the Land of Golf where all the old farts

Continue to hit their balls and sip their brew.

And at the end of this sequence so clever

Everybody lived happly ever after.

Author's Apology

2010-05-11T07:32:00.000-07:00

This post is a preface to tomorrow's where I will be posting a sonnet sequence.

A while back Simon and I challenged one another to a sonnet throwdown (I can't remember which one of us started this whole thing). Originally, I challenged him to write a sonnet that had something to do with the vodka and symphonic metal he's always going on and on about, whereas after my initial post about driving the beer cart around the golf course this summer he challenged me to write a sonnet about beer and old men playing golf.

Okay, says I. Then, he has his "most epic contest" wherein he challenges readers to write short stories or poems on any of a whole list of subjects.

Because I can't turn my back on a challenge, I got it into my head that I would write a sequence of sonnets which would encompass all of the subjects from his contest plus the subjects he challenged me to write about.

So tomorrow I will be posting an 8-sonnet sequence which tells a story about: symphonic metal, vodka, writing, cycling, Scotland, tattoos, Simon, golf, beer, flirting, old men, and me.

When you read it, keep in mind that although I find sonnets fun and challenging, I am not a poet by trade. Some of the lines aren't strictly iambic pentameter, but rather variations, and some of the rhymes are a serious stretch. Overall, I was going for story and snark value over showing off my poetic chops (of which I really have none).

So, stay tuned tomorrow to read my epically silly sonnet sequence!

Creativity Workshop: Week in Review

2010-05-10T09:59:00.000-07:00

As part of Merilee's creativity workshop, every Sunday participants are required to post a review and analysis of the previous week's creative activities and then revisit the goals for the upcoming week.

Because I'm a rebel who doesn't follow rules and bucks the system whenever possible (but mostly because I'm chronically late for everything) I'm posting my review and goals today. I'll do my best to accomplish this on Sundays in the future, but we'll see how that goes. My life is fluid and always in motion so I figure if I accomplish goals within 1-2 days of their due date I'm doing well.

That being said, last week was the first week of the workshop and the only assignments were to brainstorm some interests we might want to work on during the course of the workshop, then select a few of those interests and formulate some goals and specific tasks meant to accomplish them. Even though I joined the workshop late, I'm pleased to say I completed both assignments (and they were both done on time, too...nearly a first for me!)

My goals for this upcoming week: For weeks 1-4 I decided I was going to work on exploring genre fiction by writing four stories of different genres (horror, sci-fi, western, detective). Let me start by saying, what was I thinking? I know nothing about any of these genres and they make me uncomfortable. But I suppose that's the point of a creativity workshop, no?

Okay, so I'll start this week by writing sci-fi and I'm going to use the motif of doors to connect the four stories. My goals for this week will include doing some research into what exactly defines a sci-fi story and then brainstorming some ideas. I think I have a general idea of what I want to write, but I find it intimidating and scary when reading the blogs of other participants that they've got stories clearly outlined in their heads and I'm coming up distinctly blank. And I have one week to write a (one would hope) coherent sci-fi story. Yikes.

I am, however, comforted that Merilee noted on her blog that she anticipates making false starts and that "learning words are never wasted." I shall take that to heart.

And now, off I go to learn about sci-fi. Wish me luck.

Happy Mother's Day and News from the Links

2010-05-09T07:44:00.000-07:00

It's Mother's Day, but I'm not going to spend a lot of time on it here. This morning I've browsed many of the blogs I follow and I think they've pretty much got the Mother's Day thing covered. So suffice it to say that if you're a mother, Happy Mother's Day.

I'm a mother (x3) but I get to work today driving cart at the golf course. It's not bad, though. I'm happy to be making money after being unemployed for two months. So far it's a beautiful morning (windy, but pretty) and I'm crossing my fingers it'll last. The old and worn out joke here in North Dakota is that if you don't like the weather, wait a few minutes and it'll change, which is exactly what it did yesterday. I drove cart yesterday and the day started out blue sky and sunny. It was a gorgeous change from the last week which was gray and dreary with nothing but rain and even a dusting of snow.

Unfortunately yesterday went from good to bad fairly quickly. The wind picked up, the clouds rolled in, and it started raining. Surprisingly, the course was pretty full of diehards. They were traipsing the course in shorts and polos, determined to ignore the nasty weather.

I also did quite well for tips, which was a shocker. Sold nearly 70 beers in six hours, plus myriad pop, Gatorade, sandwiches, candy bars (Snickers was the big fave yesterday).

There were several groups of Canadians on the course and they're always a hoot. Since we're so close to the border, Canadians often come down to shop. They also come to golf. And let me tell you, they're usually the best tippers, too. So I'm always happy to see them golfing.

After just a couple of days driving the beer cart around and having half drunk old guys practically throwing tip money at me, I told my hubby that I've become a tip whore. Sad but true. It's a new world out there. This is the first job I've ever worked where I get tips (I never waitressed). Like I said before, I'm not young and cute, but apparently the more beer these guys drink, the less they care. Which is fine with me, cuz there's not much better than a handful of cash when you leave work for the day. I made nearly twice as much in tips yesterday as I did in wages. Pretty sweet.

So I'm hoping not everyone is at Mom's house today for Mother's day and that there are plenty of people out golfing. Because another big wad of tip money would be an awesome Mother's Day gift (and if I'm really lucky the kids will clean up the house while I'm at work and make the day that much better!)

Happy Mother's Day everyone!

Creativity Workshop: Goals

2010-05-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

As promised, here is the post where I outline my goals for the Creativity Workshop. These will be based on the issues and interests from my previous post. I am to select three of those items to focus on throughout the course of the workshop.

I have chosen to work on genre, emotion, and character variety.

Weeks 1-4: Genre

I will write four stories in four different genres (horror, sci-fi, western, and detective) linked by either theme or motif (which I haven't decided on yet).

I will accomplish this by researching the parameters of each genre, writing a general character and plot outline ahead of time, writing for at least 30 minutes per day.

Weeks 5-8: Emotion

I will write four stories exploring (at least) four different emotional extremes. I'm going to complicate this further by insisting with myself that these all be set in contemporary settings. I think I'll link them by having all the characters be members of the same family.

I will accomplish this by outlining the family and characters ahead of time, getting into an emotional mindset before I write, not being afraid of emotion while I'm writing.

Weeks 9-12: Character variety

I want to try to slip a twist past Merilee for this section of the workshop. Rather than writing four independent stories, I'm going to write one long story (perhaps four chapters?) about four different and distinctively drawn characters.

I will accomplish this by outlining plot, writing at least brief character studies, being mindful as I write of who each character is (personality, profession, back story, etc).

So there you have it. My Creativity Workshop goals.

Playing Catch Up - Creativity Workshop

2010-05-05T12:55:00.000-07:00

Merilee was gracious enough to allow me to join her Creativity Workshop even though the deadline for signing up had passed. Thank you, Merilee!

Now, I'm playing catch up. I'm only a few days behind, but the first assignment is to write a post discussing our issues and interests as writers. My list is as follows:

1. Explore genre.
2. To the point.
3. Explore the world.
4. Explore emotions.
5. Voice
6. Character variety.

1. Explore genre: There are so many to choose from! And I've written in so few of them. I'd like to explore them, stretch myself, see if I can write outside my comfort zone.

2. To the point: I'm not overly wordy and when I write I tend to get right to the point. I need to work on fleshing out my prose.

3. Explore the world: Most of us write what (and where) we know. It's scary to make assumptions about places you've never been and then try to write about those places. I'd like to write about a place I've never been.

4. Explore emotions: I tend to write timid. I want to explore a wider range of emotion. I want to write the extremes and the unexpected.

5. Voice: I need to work on writing more active prose. Sometimes it's easy for the helping verbs to sneak in without me noticing. I need to cut out the sense words too. And I'd like to experiment with POV.

6. Character variety: Sometimes when I have a group of characters they tend to reduce themselves to cookie cutters of each other. I want to work on writing definitively different characters.

So, after some careful consideration, those are my issues and interests. Stay tuned for goals.

Listening to Your Characters

2010-05-04T16:49:00.001-07:00

Today is the Primal Scream blogfest, but after searching through my WIPs I couldn't find a good scene that didn't also give away plot points, so sadly I won't be participating. You should go and read the other entries, though!

One more note of business: Elizabeth Mueller is having an awesome contest. Go check it out! Elizabeth Mueller's contest

Finally, here's today's actual blog posting. Because I couldn't find a scene for the Primal Scream blogfest, I'm reposting here the same article I posted at Critique_This_WIP today. If you don't follow us over there, you really should. And don't forget to enter our Flirt Fest blogfest while you're there. You'll be very sad if you miss out on it.

I once had a playwriting instructor who was the best writing teacher I ever had.

One of the courses he taught was advanced playwriting. Because there were only three of us in the class he didn't really lecture. He spent a lot of time showing us video of plays and documentaries about playwrights, having us read a variety of different kinds of plays, and engaging us in conversation about writing.

He also listened. We were constantly giving him sob stories about how this character or that plot point were giving us trouble. He would patiently let us finish our complaining, and then he would tell us to listen to our characters. Quit trying to force them to do something they don't want to. If you pay attention, they'll let you know what's appropriate for them and what isn't.

Good advice, I think. And advice I try to use whenever I'm writing, whether it's a stage play, a screenplay, flash fiction, or a novel.

Case in point: I just finished the first draft of my thesis screenplay, but this was after a major rewrite. The first version sucked big time, and when Hubby and I reread it, it was clear the characters were forced and the plot just didn't work the way it was laid out. So, we listened to the characters and when we paid attention to them instead of trying to force them to be something they weren't, the path was clear. The rewrite is awesome, and something I'm really proud of.

Same thing for my (as of yet unnamed) romance trilogy (which, btw, I'm driving myself crazy trying to name). Although I currently have the first draft of two of the three novels written, while working on editing I can clearly see places I didn't listen to my characters. I am busily fixing these.

So, this is the gist of my instructor's advice: Create your characters, develop them, get to know them as neighbors and friends, or even as enemies. Have conversations with them not related to the story you're writing. Do this until they're not just characters but people you know. Then when you sit down to write their stories, you'll know exactly how they'll react in any given situation.

How do you deal with unruly characters who don't cooperate? Do they give you writer's block? What do you do to whip them into shape?

Happy Star Wars Day

2010-05-04T08:21:00.001-07:00

Today, May 4th, is Star Wars day supposedly because of the pun on the similarity between the phrase: "May the 4th be with you" and "May the force be with you."

That's good enough reason for me. It's clever and because our culture is ready to name a day after just about anyone or anything, I'm game for Star Wars day.

Like anyone who grew up during the Star Wars era, the first three movies to debut (A New Hope, Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi) were influential on my imagination. I was 11 when A New Hope was released and I vaguely remember liking it, but Empire Strikes Back was the movie that affected me the most. I was awed by it because it was so different from anything I'd ever seen. I was never a real sci-fi fan, but this was a different kind of sci-fi...it was actually fun. Because I have always been a geek, when the other girls my age were drooling over the rock stars and actors in the pages of Teen Beat, my best friend and I were in love with Luke and Han. We must have seen Empire Strikes Back a dozen times in the theater, going home every time speculating on Han's fate after he was frozen in carbonite. To this day I drive my family insane quoting the movie verbatim.

I'm sorry to say I thought Return of the Jedi stunk up the big screen. Even before a degree in English and some screenwriting under my belt I realized the dialogue was childish and unnatural, the directing was stilted, and the story was melodramatic even for Star Wars. (Though I was relieved that Han was thawed and saved from Jabba the Hut.)

By the time the next three movies (The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith), were released I'd grown up and had three kids. I wasn't as steeped in Star Wars. I found Anakin to be a whiny baby and although I thought the overall story was still good, I just wasn't as "into it" as I had been with the first three. I was pleased, however, to have the story complete and satisfied that most of the loose ends were tied up.

In the end, regardless of how good or bad the writing, directing, or acting was, Star Wars has touched the lives of millions, as well as influenced American culture in general. It fired up our collective (and individual) imagination and inspired writers, directors, actors, and just about everyone else to "do or do not...there is no try."

So Happy Star Wars Day and May the 4th...erm...the Force be with you!

Last Line Blogfest

2010-05-01T09:03:00.000-07:00

Today's the Last Line blogfest hosted by Lilah Pierce (it's also Charity Bradford's Baking Blogfest but I don't have a scene for that!) Below is my Last Line Entry. It's the end of a chapter in book two of my paranormal romance trilogy. A word of explanation: Holly and Dusty are faeries and Bamboo is a cat that only Dusty can talk to.

Dusty bristled. “Why is everyone so interested in my love life? I've been back for less than an hour and we’re talking about whether I should mate again, only five short months after I lost the love of my life.” He stood and stomped around the tree, not sure where he meant to go, ending up back where he started. “Damn it! Who does she think she is, anyway? Coming into my life all tempting and seductive with her pearly eyes, and satin skin and that wild hair….”

She’s got you bad, Bamboo said.

“I’m just confused.” He slumped down next to Holly and leaned into Bamboo, drawing on the calm he could always count on finding from his friend. The two of them had been wandering the forest together for months and Dusty hadn’t missed home or his friends once as long as Bamboo was around. He had healed the anguish in Dusty’s heart almost as if he had Dusty’s power to mesmerize the pain away.

Holly rubbed his back. “I’m sorry, Dusty. This can’t be easy. But everything will work out for the best.”

Didn’t I tell you not too long ago that you never know what life’s got in store for you? Bamboo’s chuckle echoed in Dusty’s mind. Looks like life’s pulled a fast one on you, Dusty.

So there you have it, short and sweet. Hope you enjoyed it! Now go visit Lilah's blog check out the links of other writers who are participating in her blogfest!

Newsy News

2010-04-30T14:27:00.001-07:00

First bit of news: I entered my screenplay, "944 Friendly People," in the Nicholl Fellowship competition. I will be nervous about this for months now. Please wish me luck!

Secondly, today is Friday Fiction at my critique group's blog, Critique This WIP and it was my turn this week to add a scene, so go check it out and leave me a comment!

Third, don't forget to sign up for the Flirt Fest blogfest to be held on May 15. You don't want to miss out.

Last, I'm so excited the semester is almost over and when it is I'll be halfway through my MFA program! This time next year I'll be getting ready to graduate. Can't believe it. For this semester I just need to finish my grant proposal, write a short paper, do some critiques of other students' work and then I'm done. Now if I can just get my employment situation straightened out I'll be in perfect shape.

It's a beautiful day here, so I'm going to go for a walk now. Hope it's just as nice where you are!