Day Fourteen- Don't cross the streams--most of the time.

Okay, do you remember that part in Ghostbusters when they've got their packs on and:

Egon: There's something very important I forgot to tell you.

Peter: What?

Egon: Don't cross the streams.

Peter: Why?

Egon: It would be bad.

Peter: I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean "bad"?

Egon: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.

Ray: Total Protonic Reversal.

Peter: Right. That's bad. Okay. All right. Important safety tip. Thanks, Egon.

While I think it's a rare day when Ghostbuster's logic doesn't explain life as I know it, some of you might be wondering if I need to see a "special" kind of doctor. I'll explain. First of all, you'll remember at the end of Ghostbusters--they cross the streams, right? It's the only way at times.

So, you're currently booking on your WIP or NaNo book.... Everything is going either good or bad, but it's going. At what point, do you bring a beta in to assess? I mean... if you're only 20K into something--it's maybe one third of the way done, but YOU KNOW it's going to go through heavy rewrites before you really WANT to show it to anyone. For crying out loud, if you're Diana, you've probably got a bunch of embarrassing homophones hanging around laughing at you behind your back. Write, Diana? I mean, right? (Snicker) Just kidding. Homophones are tricky little buggers.

On the other hand--what if you're taking it the wrong direction? What if your audience is like "what the crap? I have NO idea what you're even talking about here." If you get a beta in there to assess the damage and praise the good stuff--maybe--just maybe you can get things going in the right direction.

The reason I'm thinking of this is that my sister had a really, really, really bad week this week. Funerals. Pet death. Bad. Her sister bailed on her due to some lame sickness that has brought her nigh onto death. So, my sister asked to read all my WIP because she needed to read something new that would restore her joi de verve. It's rare that I let people see my WIPs--especially since I can finish them so fast. I held off on Honor Six (which I've discovered people have been desperate to harass me about, but afraid I'll quit if they do.) I handed over Scorched, Versus the Bounty, and the Chosen Changeling. As I did so, I realized that I actually wanted advice. What was worth finishing next? I'll finish Scorched of course, but I wasn't sure what to do about the Chosen Changeling. I was booking on Versus the Bounty for a while, and then I got distracted by NaNo. So, anyway... she came back saying that she liked the Chosen Changeling the best (which I wasn't shelving, but it was lower on my list of things to finish. I was genuinely shocked. It might be the genre, but still....)

So, bringing in betas to give opinions on an unfinished product... can you do it? Even if there are major flaws that would embarrass you if your beta buddy mentioned it on her blog?

I'm a perfectionist so it takes a really good reason for me to hand around copies of something unfinished. On the other hand, the wisdom of Ghostbusters--sometimes you just need to cross the streams.

Today, I'm going into the doctor--as soon as the temperature outside is about forty degrees. Brrr.

Day Three- Another name bites the dust and the POV was shot

So, I can't very well have a character named Seth and a character named Sidra, and why did no one point this out? If you say their names together, you run into the lisping issue that keeps killing my favorite name "Seth." Crap! This required a find and replace and a new name. Seth wasn't quite catching me anyway. His new name is Asher and that seemed to work with the whole theme of "Fire" but there was a new problem. His last name was Taylor. While all of this occurs in real life, it doesn't occur in fiction--dang it! We will make sure last names aren't stupid when said with first names. So, he got a full-on name change on Day Three. (Is this giving someone flashbacks? Sadly, I can only remember your name as Chris... which it isn't... anymore.)

So, Asher Terry was born. Phew. Name handled.

Point of View-- le sigh. So, I've been using first person and while I think that's good, Sidra's POV isn't enough. Is it weird to throw in the occasional first person chapter from Asher's perspective? (Like every third chapter or something) The other option is to switch the whole thing to third person and just head hop. Any ideas?

Then, there is the tense issue. Verb tense that is. Sidra likes to space off and stare at fires and have internal monologues about fire--which I'm allowing--for now. Her soliloquies to fires are in the present tense and have an extra space before and after. I'm trying to decide if that's too weird and jarring. I know it's hard for me to switch back and forth between tenses.

It's too complicated to explain what I mean in the generic, so here is an excerpt from the first of the book (Sidra's) and a little later (like chapter four) for Asher's--let me know what you think on the tense thing and the POV thing:

I paint almost entirely in reds and oranges. I like to paint fire—and things on fire. This bothers some of those people at school. My mom understands, so I do most of my painting at home. My friends call me “Scorch” because of it. It started in Junior High, and I haven’t been able to drop the name. I guess it’s better than my given name, Sidra. It means “stars” in Latin and my mom gets way too into Latin for it being a dead language in my opinion.

Sometimes when I’m in front of my easel, painting fire, like I am right now, my mind just runs and runs. There are no child support checks and a father living in Mississippi with the super whore, Bliss. There are no awkward moments when I walk into a class and search for the least unappealing seat. There is just me—and reds—and oranges—and fire.

“Sids, come down and grab some breakfast. You’re going to be late for school, Honey!” my mother yelled, breaking my mind’s sprint.

I wiped the paint off my hands with a cloth to the side of my easel. This room used to be my father’s office before he ran off with Bliss, the super whore. Now, it’s an empty room with a concrete floor. It was easier to tear out the carpet than deal with the glass and shards of my dad’s computer—and whatever had been spilled all over the remnants. The room’s demise had been my gain. It had the perfect light exposure and I didn’t have to worry about spilling paint on the floor. It had been the first decent thing my dad had done—leaving behind so much anger that we’d destroyed his edifice—his ode to work.

So, that's Sidra's POV, but here is an excerpt from Asher's:

She was sort of psychotic. She’d spaced out again while watching the fire. This Sidra chick had a serious pyro-mania going on. Still, I was almost positive she wasn’t the one I’m looking for. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the pyro-demons had masqueraded in human form, but they usually didn’t settle for cute female forms with nice copper-colored eyes. Plus, she wasn’t keeping a low profile, and she wasn’t new. That jock on the front row had made it sound like she’d lit plenty on fire over the years. Trace had decided that this was a new spot—possibly even a new demon—or several demons. Considering the amount of fires, I was guessing we had a pack of demons on our hands. It was rare for to them gather like this, though.

Vegas was getting nailed with fires right now. No one suspected arson, but a demon wouldn’t leave traces around like that to get them tagged as arson. That was part of what led Trace and me here. Another city. Another load of fires. A bunch of fire demons.

Nothing should be special about this place, but Sidra was changing that. She was pretty amazing.

Brand liked Sidra too. Brand didn’t like just anyone. He was the pickiest mutt. Brand wouldn’t like her if she was a fire demon. She had to be just a cute pyro in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Still, I had things to do—things that shouldn’t include tailing a hot pyromaniac. Okay, the word “tail” shouldn’t make me smile, but damn Sidra was hot. I couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with the guys at this school. At any other school I’d been in, Sidra would have been the one with the quarterback—not the one being pelted with paper missiles. What was up with that idiot?

The teacher noticed Sidra’s expression and turned the burner off again. I tried to give this Ms. Lyons a smile to relieve that terrified look in her eyes, but Scorch here—wasn’t helping. It was probably just as well we’d be next to the fire extinguisher.

Day Two-- Title was eaten and spit out

So, insomnia kept me up an additional twenty or thirty minutes, and I've been rethinking my title.

Original title is very gollumish: In his Shadow Where he Keeps It.

"We likes the title, my precious, but we ates it because it was tasty."

Considering new titles:

In Flame's Shadow

The Shadow of Fire

Scorched in Shadow

Shadow's Scorch

So, I know the title isn't important but I like to have a good working title. Anyone like one more than the other or have other similar ideas?

Here is the back flap summary (which is subject to change as my characters see fit) :

Sidra is obsessed and teased by the thought of fire. It consumes her every waking thought and is the focus of all her art. Nothing matters as much as capturing the light and depth of reds, oranges, blues, purples, and the occasional common yellow.

Well, that's not true anymore.

There is something decidedly strange about the new guy in school, Seth. He doesn't seem to care about popularity or grades, and he asks a whole lot of questions about why she is called "Scorch." There is purpose in his gaze, and he hints that he's come to Vegas for a reason. When mysterious fires begin plaguing her classmates, Sidra knows it's only a matter of time before they start asking "Scorch" questions. Hopefully, no one finds the paintings of the fires that she painted before they happened. Still, they should be asking Seth. He's been at all the scenes almost immediately, and there is something funny about the air around him--he casts a strangely dark shadow over everything. Then, there is the dog that sometimes is with him. It's huge and dark but disappears like a fire jarred.

She shouldn't be protecting Seth. She shouldn't want him. Still, for a guy hiding in shadows, he sure warms her heart--it's as if she's on fire.