Goals Revisited

So, it seems appropriate for the last day of the year to look back at my goals and see where I got.  Mostly, I've decided not to have goals anymore because goals are a big freaking pain. At some point, I added submit one short story per month, but it's not showing up on here... huh. 

Here are my goals from this year (I made them in March, so that's how I could cheat and add the agent thing) : 

Writing Plans for 2011:

January:

Finish Honor 7. (Completed) 

Revise Secrets of Skin and Stone. (Completed) 

Submit short stories. (Completed--both stories were accepted in the anthologies I submitted them to.  Mystery Times Ten 2011 and Undead is Not an Option.) 

February:

Get agent. (Wooo wahoo!) (Yay)

March:

Do revisions of Secrets of Skin and Stone. (Completed a set of revisions)

Work on short story project. (I probably did.) 

April:

Finish Sentinel's Run. (At some point during the year I finished Sentinel's Run.)

May:

Revision of Curse Me A Story for Sarah. (I did... but it's not quite done.) 

"Six month" scheduled revision of Versus the Bounty and The Unseen Kingdom. (Nope.)

June:

Finish My Other Life. (Nope.) (I wrote Promises of Light and Dark instead.)

July:

Finish Chosen Changeling. (Nope.)

August:

Revise Honor Series. (Crap. No.)

September:

Work on short stories or Honor 8. (Short stories... done.)

October:

Revise Scorched. (Crap. No.)

Revise Good Girls Don't Date Mutants. (I started a revision on Mutants but I haven't completed it.)

November:

NaNoWriMo novel (Completed 50K. I did five novellas instead of a novel.)

December:

Revise Sentinel's Run and begin Sentinel's Run Book Two. (Uhh. No. I did manage to submit 11 short stories during 2011.) 

I'm still working on a revision of Secrets of Skin and Stone... well, I'm waiting on Sarah with that.  I've revised it three or four or five times this year.  

Per my earlier announcement I did get a short story picked up by Entangled Publishing. 

I did actually finish writing my entry for Mystery Times Ten for 2012, but I need to do another revision on it. I could have probably powered through it and subbed it tonight, but I like eleven better than twelve anyway, so there wasn't a lot of incentive.

I fell behind in some ways this year and made some progress in others.  I read around 89 books, did five betas, and I did quite a few requested revisions for editors and for Sarah.

Outside of writing, I lost fifty lbs this year--so that's pretty cool.  

Then, there were parenting struggles and sickness and injury.  It hasn't been all fun and games.  

Next year... okay, I do have some goals.

Goals for 2012

I want to do more reviewing. I'm hoping to review all my favorite books on Amazon--just my favorite books--and just on Amazon. 

I want to lose the last fifteen lbs. to my goal. 

I want to finish revising Secrets of Skin and Stone for the last time with Sarah.

I intend to submit to Mystery Times Ten Contest by its deadline of January 31st. 

I have some short stories to revise for editors, and I'll do that.

My only specific writing goals are that I want to revise and resubmit Honor.  I want to finish my revision of Mutants.  Also, I want to do NaNoWriMo again this year. That's about it. 

In social media goals, I want to work a little harder on keeping up on my blog and creating an author website.  It's been a tough year, and I keep feeling like I'm dropping behind--in fact, I need to write a few blog posts and retro-post them in regards to Christmas and the nativity display. (I did take a bunch of pictures, and I'll post them--soon.)  I can't seem to keep up.  B got the stomach flu for Christmas and my son had it before her.  It's been... fun. 

Anyway, that's it. I hope everyone is having a good New Year's Eve.  See you next year. ; ) 

Taking a Story to the Bones

I can't tell if that title sounds just dirty or ominous or both or ominously dirty... you decide.

So, I'm working on a... reimagination of Secrets of Skin and Stone and it may incorporate but not gut Promises of Light and Dark.

Part of this will involve bringing in the larger story that I didn't even imagine when I started writing SECRETS... and it wasn't until Sarah asked me to open up SECRETS for the possibility of a sequel that I realized it wasn't just a single book. It still will read as a stand-alone in the end, I'm hoping, but there are other people involved that I never hinted at when I wrote SECRETS.

I've mentioned this before, but in case this is your first time here... my agent wants me to write a version of SECRETS for the film agent with her agency to present to producers. It needs more... plot points that involve action. So, I've got her notes on what several sources mentioned needs to be in the final draft and I'm working from that.

This will take SECRETS down to the bones of what it's about. I've never actually done a revision this deep. Of course, I'd never done a chapter-by-chapter summary before Sarah asked me to. There's nothing saying I can't do it, so I might as well try.

It comes down to "what's sacred" will stay in, but everything else is up for grabs. If you've never read Maggie Stiefvater's thoughts on revision, you should check out this post. It's brilliant.

So, what's sacred in SECRETS?

I told Sarah when we first started talking about SECRETS that there was one thing I would fight for... that I refused to sell my book to an editor who'd take it out. I was absolutely adamant on this one single point... You'd think it would be about Gris being a gargoyle. It isn't. That's not actually sacred. He's a gargoyle as a foil for Piper's issues... which are sacred. I told Sarah that I absolutely wouldn't tolerate having the cutting scenes tamed for public consumption. I knew that they made SECRETS a bit edgy but, if anything, I wanted Piper's OCD to be that way. I wanted readers to know that OCD is not simple and pretty.

So, Piper's cutting and her OCD are sacred.

Nothing else is sacred.

Everything else can be cut.

Those are the bones of the story.

I have to keep telling myself that.

Voice is king.... voice is always king. I'll revise until the voice is as strong as it is in this version in the new one. That's the other thing I keep telling myself.

So, my goal, to start off, is to go from Sarah's notes and chapter notes (my agent is a super hero, btw) and write a new chapter-by-chapter summary of this new SECRETS. It'll steal some from SECRETS... possibly some aspects of PROMISES but I want to add a lot more of an ominous feel to it as well as more action. Gris has some cool powers as a Watcher that I under-utilize. I need to really grab those and hype those up.

It needs more cowbell. More violent cowbell. If you don't understand the phrase: more cowbell--> Go HERE.

When I wrote SECRETS I only knew what was happening in Hidden Creek, Alabama for the few steps ahead of what I was writing. Now, I've written out PROMISES and I've written out a chapter-by-chapter summary of Betrayals of Blood and Spirit (the third book in the series... should it turn into a series.) I now know exactly what is happening in Hidden Creek. I've seen what is lurking in the corners.

I feel almost as if I've been given a unique gift in some ways... how would you rewrite the first book in a series if you knew exactly how the rest of the books went? Because of knowing this, I can knock out continuity errors, plant more hints, and really focus on what is sacred and where the action is.

It's a gift.

It's still scary.

I might have a breakdown.

I'll probably need lots of Mountain Dew.

In other news, I sent Sarah Sentinel's Run. That was also scary. I keep hoping such things will get less scary, but having a story bleed out of your brain onto the screen and then sending that off for someone to like or not like... it's a strange process. The world of Sentinel's Run only existed in my mind but it felt bigger than that. It always does. So, showing someone else that... it's always a little freaky.

Okay... back to that chapter summary. *takes a deep breath* *dives in*

Yay or nay. Yeah or nah. Oui or Non. It's done.

So, I took Sentinel's Run from a level zero to a level... five... with seven being the highest. (Because I like seven... that's why... so shut up.)

The continuity errors gave me fits at first, and I wanted to weep, but I made it through those via lots and lots of Mountain Dew and late nights.

Then, came the voice revision... and you know from previous blog posts that voice is king in my world. A book can have all kinds of problems, but if the voice is good... that saves everything. If I can hear their voice in my head, it's perfect and wonderful and I love it.

I wasn't hearing it on Sentinel's Run... not completely. The world was good. The plot is awesome... it has a lot more action, and it's tighter than my other stories. I might do chapter summaries from now on when I'm preparing to work on a book. But the voice wasn't as obvious as in other books I've recently finished.

Voice is king.

Then, over the weekend, I stumbled across the perfect fix for the voice, and everything fell into place. Usually, that's the way of it--when the voice works, I hear birds and see magic, and I just want to run out into the streets and scream in relief. That's how this was.

In other books, once I figured out a few key words that my MC would say... then I knew what they'd say about everything.

In this book, it was all in how Coby responded to questions... did he say "yes" or "okay" or "fine" or "yeah" or what? Was it "no" or "not really" or "nah" or.... When I realized he'd say "yeah" or "nah" and "fine" but never "no" or "yes" and rarely "okay" it all started slipping into place.

Then, I had Mori... who is from an area heavily influenced by French Quebec... and she keeps slipping into French. So, I went through and made sure that she always responded with "oui" or "non" especially when she was under stress, and I watched for those stressful points and added even more French. All week I've had several tabs with French translations and Quebec slang open... right beside sites with farm equipment pictures. I've looked like a cultured hick according to my browsing history.

So, Sentinel's Run is done... and it's well done. I'm really proud of myself. It's not often that I want to hug a manuscript once it's complete, but I want to hug this one. I've sent it off to three betas who'd read the beginning of it last year when I first started it. Then, I suppose I'll let it settle for six months unless Sarah tells me differently. So, I should be revising it the beginning of next year if I can manage it... which is probably when I'll start the second book in the series... if my schedule holds. Looking back, I haven't really kept to my planned schedule at all so far.

Next up, I have a beta read to work on over the next few days, and then I'm burying myself in SECRETS for the rest of the summer. I need to create a more high-stakes version for the film agent. Woo! Violent cowbell!

My muse wants to work on the other WIP that I walked out on last year, My Other Life, so maybe I'll work on that when I'm done with SECRETS or while working on SECRETS. It takes place in Las Vegas so the voices aren't at all the same. It's also in third person... so that might factor into when I can work on it. I don't know. I might create a chapter summary for it just to keep my brain on task. I might do that for SECRETS too.

Well, that's my writerly news.

In non-writerly news, my husband got our Subaru fixed which entailed swapping out the entire engine. It's pretty amazing. It's been out of commission for a while, so it's weird to have another car. He worked on it all weekend and then some. It's so awesome having a husband who can do stuff like that. It feels magical. He's magical. He can fix anything... I'm pretty sure. Everyone should marry useful geeks like him. The world would be a better place... but not him... he's mine... I found him first... get your own.

My kids had a good 4th of July. T is severely spun out from fireworks and hanging out with friends and family. He fell to pieces today at the park when he thought we were out of water for a moment. (My friend had extra water... and it wasn't more than a short walk to get some.) That's how it works with T... the little things add up until he starts falling to pieces over everything. B is doing really well. We got a YMCA membership and we've been taking her to swim at the pool which is perfect for her sensory system. They have a slide, and she goes down the slide over and over and over and over--in a loop.

I'm really, really stressed out. My OCD is so obvious to me that I just want to make excuses for it and say, "I'm sorry... but I have OCD and that's why I'm acting like this." It's probably not all that obvious to those that don't know, but it feels obvious. It's like when the kids were young and would have meltdowns in grocery stores over minor things and I just wanted to shout "They have Autism! They're not bad kids!" I just want to shout, "I have OCD... I swear I'm not psycho... but can you NOT keep repeating yourself or I'll be forced to kill you! Also, your kid isn't being safe! Go stop them from doing that, or I'll be yanking them off the slide while screaming and shouting and ranting... okay? Okay... good. We're clear that I'm not psycho, though, right?" It's so severe that I can't sleep. I stare at the ceiling for an hour or two or three while my brain obsesses over one thing or the other. Finally, exhaustion is knocking me down at three or four in the morning before T stares me awake at eight a.m. (He has got to learn a better way to wake me up... the staring is so creepy.)

Okay, so that was a long update.

So, how is your summer going? *hugs*

There is Now a Level Zero...

For those who don't recognize the title of this post, it's from Kung Fu Panda. Po wants to start on level zero with his training, and Master Shifu says there is no level zero. Then, Po gets his panda tail kicked by the practice equipment and Master Shifu says, "There is now a level zero."

So, I finished my rough draft of Sentinel's Run last night... uhhh... this morning after a five hour writing jag that went until three in the morning. (It was crazy and Mt. Dew-fueled and my husband caught me typing the last sentence at 3 a.m. and said, "You're still up??? You're not supposed to be up!!!" Yeah, it was crazy, but I was on a roll.)

Normally, and my betas can back me up on this, I don't write rough drafts really. My first drafts are typically fully-realized and clean. (I do revise as I write so that's part of it. Also, my OCD keeps my brain at attention constantly for typos.) They're not final drafts by any means, but they're typically not that rough.

The world in Sentinel's Run is more complex, though, and I've stumbled across a bunch of continuity errors I need to work through. So, while it's done... it's not really done. I'm looking at a genuine rough draft. It's killing me. *shakes manuscript* It's a level zero! Okay, maybe not that bad.... I am a little surprised at how many more traps there are for continuity or contradiction issues when you're dealing with a dystopian world. As my world fleshed out throughout the story I noticed that I'd need to explain things and really establish the rules of my world and make sure I don't stray from them.

A lot of it revolves around non-human characters that I've established. I played fast and loose with some of the rules that I set down for the machines, and I need to go fix that. If you have non-human characters... you know... they have their own motivations and responses and you have to stick to that or give a good reason why you're not. I got a bit sketchy at points. Oy. Bad Wendy.

So, yay... I finished... but I didn't. I also need to work on Mori's voice and decide on some of the intricacies in Coby's speech patterns too, but that might be a further down revision. Then, I'll send it to the three betas I promised it to, and I'll shelve it for six months. (I always have shelved my manuscripts for this long... so that I can get perspective before doing a serious revision on them. I "have" done this anyway, but it's something that might change I suppose with Sarah's involvement in my career.)

It's a weird sort of anticlimactic feeling to finish a level zero manuscript. I don't like it. There's not the adrenalin rush of other manuscripts where I can immediately send it off to betas or read a "finished" product and give myself mental high-fives. On the other hand, I really, really, really like this story. I think once I work out some of these kinks it'll be my best manuscript yet, but we'll see.

*eyes level zero*

I hope.

I also got my revision notes from Sarah for the SECRETS version for the film agent from my agency, so that goes onto the calendar for me to complete this summer. It should have plenty more cowbell... even some violent cowbell... by the time I'm done with it. *punches sky* Violent cowbell!

In non-writing news, my kids' summer schedule is filling up. This morning we went to a reptile display and then to the beach. Tomorrow is yoga, a picnic, and the zoo. Thursday is... something... and so it goes. We'll have to take days off every so often so my son can decompress. Unfortunately, my kids tend to fill my life with noise--happy noise--bickering noise--tv--the computer--their DSs--noise, noise, noise, and I have a hard time writing during the day with background noise. So, I see many Mt. Dew-fueled writing sessions at night in my future. My tolerance of noise is so low right now that even my phone's alerts are making me snarl.

Summer is fun. Loads of fun. Really.

Weird Research is All in Day's Work

So, research for Sentinel's Run means that I've had tabs up in google all the time on heavy machinery, and I've been watching videos on equipment too. (Right now, I've got a Wikipedia article on backhoe loaders up.) I also spent quite some time today trying to figure out whether I wanted to spell it "plow" vs. "plough."

Being a writer is all about exciting research like this.

I spent an hour yesterday calculating the possibly velocities of all heavy machinery Mori and Coby might come across in a future world where technology might have improved, but also while relying primarily on solar power. (There's an unladen swallow joke in there somewhere.)

I can't imagine writing during a time when I'd have to go to the library for all this research--the librarians would have thought I was a total freak. Really.

Wendy: "I'd like a book on mean heavy machinery."

Librarian: "You mean ON heavy machinery."

W: "No, my heavy machinery has to attack people. I'll need something with grabbing capability... Oh! Oh! Maybe something that stabs... can you think of something that might stab a person? That'd be awesome!"

L: "Uhh. Are you the person who was asking about sleeping chickens a few months back? And whether you could kill a large amount of chickens without being caught?"

W: "Err... possibly."

L: "That's what I thought."

Writers are such freaks.

On the other hand, I'm really on the home-stretch for Sentinel's Run. I'm to 57K out of the projected 60K... but I think it'll be closer to 65K in the end... maybe. So, I should finish it sometime this weekend. Then, I'll do a revision run-through of it. I've got some squirrelly little continuity errors that I need to fix, but I don't want to ruin my momentum by dealing with them on this draft. After a revision run-through where I also work on the voice a little more... I'll do a Kindle read-through. So, I should have it to betas by next weekend... I think. I hope.

I'm not sure what to do with it after that. That's one thing about having an agent. We're focusing on Secrets of Skin and Stone and Curse Me A Story, so all my other little projects... I don't know why I'm working on them... other than my brain won't hush up AND it is good practice. I don't know.

I guess if Sarah wants to see anything else of mine... she can just ask.

Anyway, back to writing... it's time to kill a few more machines.

Finding the Story in the Music

So, I mentioned on Twitter that I was eating breakfast this last Saturday and the song "Crash into me" came on in the diner, and it seemed to fit the relationship and feel for Sentinel's Run so completely. The following day I was still singing it as I was getting ready for church and the husband asked, "Do you need a different song stuck in your head?" I said, "Are you kidding... I love this song. There are worse songs to have stuck in your head." He laughed. "Yeah, but at church? That's a dirty song... the line just before "show your world to me?" I had to think about it and listen to it again to figure out what he was talking about.

So, this morning, I finally looked up the words to this song on lyrics freak and then I went to song meanings to see what other people thought of the words. (I find that site fascinating, btw... even when I think they're all crazy for what they think.)

I don't know if other people do this, but when I listen to a song... a storyboard plays in my head like the old videos from the early nineties where there was a story behind all songs. (If you don't believe me, check out Meatloaf's I Would do Anything for Love but Taylor Swift's Love Story is a classic for storytelling in a video in my opinion.) (On the other hand, anything by Lady Gaga just makes her songs make less sense. LOL.)

So, I've been thinking about the storyboard that plays in my head to Crash Into Me... and it's not the least bit dirty (though, I'll admit it depends on your definition of dirty--and I could see where my husband was going with that.) So, for fun, I thought I'd narrate the storyboard in my head for the song Crash Into Me by Dave Matthews Band. It looks nothing like the song's actual video which you can see here. I swiped the lyrics from lyrics freak and, of course, they're not mine at all... just the pictures in my head.

You've got your ball. You've got your chain--tied to me tight--tie me up again.

A man is coming home from a long day working. He is walking up the front walkway and he sees a light coming from the side of his house where they've got a big willow planted. With a smile, he goes around the side and stands underneath the willow and sees his wife is getting ready for bed after having waited up for him. They've been married a long time... but she still makes him hot.

Who's got their claws in you my friend into your heart I'll beat again.

His wife turns and sees him through the picture window of their bedroom. He's been coming home later and later because his job is demanding. His wife smiles... and instead of motioning him in... she gets closer to the window.

Sweet like candy to my soul. Sweet you rock and sweet you roll. Lost for you. I'm so lost for you.

His wife presses her hand against the window and tips her head and then she leans forward and kisses the window.... he smiles and then laughs outright when she does a big, nasty blowfish on the window.

You come crash into me and I come into you. I come into you. In a boy's dream. In a boy's dream.

He thinks back to the first time he saw her... he was only a boy compared to what the world has made him now. He was a teenager and he thought he knew of passion and happiness. She was a comet that smacked into him and turned everything upside down. He fell in love as a boy and that stayed with him as he became a man. Sometimes, the boy inside... well, he still loves the way she laughs... and the way she teases. Over a decade later... the man inside thinks they still feel like liquid heat when they make love.

Touch your lips just so I know. In your eyes, love, it glows so I'm bare-boned and crazy for you.

He can see in her eyes that she's remembering too. She touches her lips, kisses them, and presses her fingers against the glass. In some ways, he misses the days when their love was simpler, but it's grown and gotten into him, so not having her in his life makes him feel crazy. He should tell her that... he should, but it terrifies him at the same time. She has so much power over him. Even while he's at work, he's thinking of how things will affect her. If you stripped him down to the essence... down to the bones... she'd be there. Even when she makes him crazy and mad... she's his and he's hers.

When you come crash into me, baby. And I come into you. In a boy's dream. In a boy's dream.

She smiles slyly and undoes the first few buttons on her shirt. Matching her daring, he takes off his... shoes... which makes her laugh. Suddenly, they both feel like teenagers again, swept up in the rush of hormones and heat... and it's crazy... and giddy.

If I've gone overboard then I'm begging you to forgive me in my haste. When I'm holding you so, girl, close to me.

He has laugh lines now... perhaps they're also from frowning--he's been doing his fair share of that too. Once upon a time they only laughed together, and now they fight. They fight over money--over the fact that she wants him home more. He yells that he's trying to give her the world--like he always promised her he would. Somehow, he hopes that the times he's holding her make up for the times when he's trying to prove something that she already knows--that he's a man--that he can be what he thinks she wants. Of course... all she wants is him.

Oh and you come crash into me, baby. And I come into you.

One of her buttons gets stuck. She scowls at it for a moment and then just pulls harder. The button pings off the window in between them a moment later.

Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me. Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me--in a boy's dream--in a boy's dream.

Their bodies have both changed with marriage but the way he feels about her--hasn't. She still makes him crazy with want. He loves how female she is... that she sometimes puts on skirts at home when she gets home... just before sitting on the couch with him and a bowl of popcorn and late-night TV. He's pretty sure she does it just to tease him, but he likes that too. He likes it a lot. It makes him feel like a hot teenager again, making out on the couch. She's wearing a skirt now... and now she isn't.

Oh I watch you there through the window and I stare at you. You wear nothing but you wear it so well.

She finishes undressing, pretending he isn't there, and even turns off the light in their room before lying down in the white sheets on their bed. Normally... she wears one of his over-sized t-shirts to bed and steals a pair of his boxer shorts maybe. Tonight, she doesn't bother... she knows he'll be in soon.

Tied up and twisted the way I'd like to be--for you--for me....

She turns in the sheets and the white sheets twist around her as she does, twining around her body as she stares through the window into his eyes. She crooks her finger for him. With a smile she's always loved, he grabs his shoes and runs to the back door... tripping in his haste... She hears the back door slam and she grins at the ceiling. Their bedroom door opens--and he's managed to toss off most of his clothes throughout the house... and she sees the boy smile within the man she loves. They crash into each other in a mix of hungry mouths and arms and legs... and love.

Come crash into me.

So, what do you think? Is it dirty? Maybe, a little. Is my story anything like yours? Probably not. Maybe you don't even do that. I won't pretend that there aren't a few double entendres thrown into there. "Come into me" could be quite dirty... which I sort of like.

The story I just made around the lyrics actually has nothing, but nothing to do with the story surrounding Sentinel's Run--if anything--it's more like my own relationship with my husband (and, yes, we have a willow tree shielding our bedroom window from the world, but I promise this scenario has never played out.) But the idea of two people crashing into each other's lives with an explosion does have a lot to do with Sentinel's Run. I was venting on Twitter that I can't seem to stop my characters in Sentinel's Run from kissing--even though there are a lot of reasons they shouldn't be kissing... it doesn't matter... my characters keep kissing. That's why the song reminds me of them--that fiery hot explosion of emotions between people that seems to be obvious in young love.

Anyway, this is probably one of those posts that maybe I write just for myself and perhaps I've ruined this song for some of you. *Wendy sticks her tongue out* Yesterday was the kids' last day of school. I'm hoping to get some writing down today, but I might not... but I might... who knows. I'm making good progress, but I'm tired and my allergies are acting up. (I know... I talk about the sexiest things. Pollen is technically the reproductive matter of trees, so there's that.) Annnnnd now I've ruined pollen for you too. ; ) You're welcome.

Sample Sunday- Sentinel's Run

So, I worked into the wee hours last night on Sentinel's Run, and I'm about to start off another stretch of writing tonight. (My kids get out of school on Wednesday so I'm running out of time.)

This book is all written from a 17 year old boy's perspective, Coby's. It's a Dystopian about a world where the machines have taken over and all boys aged 17 are sent off to fight on the front lines of defense against the robots for five years. Most never come home. Coby meets Mori and he's trying to save both their lives and right now they're on the wrong side of the line--they're on the machines' side of the line. He's managed to "rip out the brain" on an excavator and they're driving that around when this scene takes place--they've just run from a large drill, and it's chasing them.

This is what I wrote last night... it's rough... straight out of the tips of my fingers as it were.

The rotating cab meant that I gave Mori one last shot at the drill. When we were a good distance away, I gave into her shouts and pummeling on my arm and swung us sideways so she had a clear shot.

“Don’t act like you’re doing me this huge favor,” she said, scooting to the edge of the cab and putting both hands in front of her.

I wanted to shake her, just shake her. How could anyone be so aggravating and charming at the same time? It seemed impossible. I’d just saved both our lives! We’d nearly died a dozen times—some of which were her fault. I was doing her a favor.

“Don’t take the shot if you’re not sure,” I said.

“Oh, and now you’re telling me how to bolt?” She tossed me a look over her shoulder that seemed like it was meant to make me wither up and die on the seat.

I leaned forward and rested my arm on the steering wheel while shaking my head. Mori was something else. She was a piece of work. When I was leaning forward, I could see even more crows circling above us. I’d never seen this many near the line.

The drill was coming hard and fast toward us, but it had been damaged by some of the trees it had torn through. I was less worried now that we were off the ground. If worst came to worst, I could always swing my bucket and maybe knock the nasty tunneler onto its side. It was a possibility anyway.

Mori was grumbling “wait… wait… wait…” under her breath.

“Don’t wait too long,” I said, just to annoy her.

She snarled without looking at me. It made me smile. Something might be wrong with me that I was starting to enjoy fighting with her. It was most likely too much adrenalin and maybe the radiation even. Still, she looked beautiful when she was angry. Blessed earth, she looked beautiful all the time.

She groaned a sigh. “I can’t get a clear shot, Coby. That stupid drill is in the way.”

“Are you giving up?”

She gasped… which was answer enough even before she said, “Of course I’m not, you silly trencher.”

“You’re a silly trencher,” I murmured, smiling.

She glanced over her shoulder at this, and I didn’t drop my grin in time.

“You’re enjoying this.” I thought I could hear a smile in her voice, but she’d refocused on the drill which was now listing slightly to the side and clunky in its movements. She bolted a few crows while waiting for my reply.

I sat back against the seat. “It’s probably madness setting in from being in your company too long. Every time you start to make sense… I should just punch myself in the head.”

“I’ll punch you,” she offered and finally took the shot when the drill tipped just a bit. The bolt hit like a brick to the digitals inside, and it thunked to a stop only a hundred yards from us. She leaned back with a very satisfied smile.

“Nice shot,” I said.

“Yeah, it was.” Nice. Real humble.

O’course I sort of liked that about her.

Yeah, I should just let her punch me in the head for that.

Putting on the Plotting Pants Post

*snickers* If you didn't notice the alliteration in that title... and giggle... I can't help you. *washes hands of you*

So, a while back, Sarah conned me into doing something that might just rewrite all my rules. Seriously. She asked me for a plot summary for a book I hadn't written. A BOOK... I HADN'T written. Naturally, my brain exploded, my world shrunk, and somewhere a fairy died, but I decided to give it a shot. What I came up with... was not at all pretty. I couldn't write a book summary. I could write a chapter-by-chapter summary, but not a book summary. I sent it off, with my apologies for its Frankenstein presentation, and Sarah was good with it... and didn't hunt me down and shake it in my face while shouting, "What the crap is this?" (I sometimes have paranoid and implausible fantasies about what might happen in a worst case scenario.) That was then... and I immediately turned around and did heavy revisions on two books right after, but the fact that I could summarize a book I hadn't written... hung with me... and it got into my brain.

Now, I'm trying to work on Sentinel's Run. (Sarah is distracted with other projects temporarily, so I'm working feverishly while she is.) It's been a year since I worked on Sentinel's Run. It fell casualty to other projects taking precedence and it's gone mostly untouched for a year now. I started it last June, wrote 25K, received a request from Sarah for a full and then copies of my other stuff... and then buried myself in other projects.

Ideally, I want to finish Sentinel's Run while still working on other revisions if requested. Moving from a YA paranormal to a Dystopian sounds like a nightmare, though. So, I decided to try a chapter-by-chapter plot summary. I've been working on that this week and I did it... I actually plotted out the remainder of the book. I can't believe I can do that. Then, yesterday, using my chapter summary, I added a full chapter to Sentinel's Run. I created a cheat sheet for voice while I was creating the summary, so I'm all plotty-plot-plotterton this time even.

In some ways, it's still pantsing because I can only write as far as the next chapter... and then the next chapter. It turns out looking like a fairly boring short story. I can't summarize the whole book--my mind doesn't work that way. I can build on each chapter, though.

So, how does this change all the rules?

I know this won't be the same book I would have written without the plot summary. My mind rambles down random paths in novels much like I do in these blog posts. With the plot summary in place, I won't do that. I really think this might tighten up my writing in a way I'm not managing in revisions. I'm wondering if I should do chapter summaries on some books after the fact... I'm thinking, seriously, that I might force myself to do this for all my books in the future... though possibly not until after the first few chapters are written.

For the record, I hated writing the chapter summaries. I let myself have a cupcake after I was finished and patted myself on the head and said, "You did it, Wendy! You're not a hack." It was seriously pulling teeth and my muse kept screaming, "We don't write this way! This sucks! I hate you! I'm going to go stick a dead rat on your pillow!"

So, when I finished writing the chapter last night... my first shiny new chapter on this WIP in a year... I wanted to find someone and shake them and shout, "I did it! I can plot! I can use a plotted out summary! I'm not a hack." Sadly, it was one a.m. and I was insane for still being awake, but it's the thought that counts.

Anyway, so my posts over the next few weeks will probably be all about Sentinel's Run and how much I love it and how I want to hug it and squeeze it and call it George. (Seriously, I love this story... I've tried to marry it, but our love will have to be a thing of dreams, but that didn't work out so well.)

Deriving Miss Daisy--Embracing the Derivative

So, I first started thinking on this subject long ago, but it was brought to mind when I read several reviews on City of Bones and reviewers compared its themes to Star Wars and the writing style to work she'd done on Harry Potter fanfic. This isn't the first time I've heard of a book being compared to Harry Potter or Star Wars. I want to argue that the themes in both books were hardly invented by their creators but, on the other hand, what does it matter?

As a writer, you live with two big fears. The first being that someone will beat you to telling your story. Yes, that's right. If you're a writer and you're reading this, other writers have that same fear... the ticking clock of a great idea that you're afraid has already been brought to life. Maybe they'll do it better than you... maybe they'll do it worse... but they'll get there first, and that's terrifying. At least, it is to me. I worry that I'm too late to the game... every day.

The second fear is that people will see what you've written and think you stole your ideas or themes from someone else. I mean the reality is that there are no new ideas. There aren't. I once saw someone claim on Twitter that their idea had NEVER been done before. NEVER. EVER. Some folks laughed outright and some laughed inside our head and mentally patted this writer on the head and thought, "That's cute that you actually believe that."

Wow... I sound jaded, but I don't care.

The truth is: It's all been done before. IT ALL HAS.

I've been thinking this week that I'd go a step further and say, "YOU WILL STEAL IDEAS." We're not set in the middle of the ocean of nothingness to write our stories. Our stories are the product of so many different sources. Sometimes, it's as simple as a theme from a story you read and you think, "I could do that differently/better/with jazz hands and a hip wiggle." Sometimes, it's because you stayed up late watching Big Bang Theory, had some Chinese food which made your stomach grumble, and your dreams were out of control whacked... and, well, doable. Pop culture, a story your mom once told you, a book, a sign outside the women's restroom... we are all derivative. Your stories are not unique thoughts born of nothingness and ether and magic.

Anyway, I just had to get that off my chest.

BTW, Sentinel's Run... is based on Terminator, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, X-men, Running Man, a documentary on Kuwait, this boy I once knew, these pictures I once saw, this knife I researched for my Honor books, a fascination with farm equipment, and a sleepless night where I thought, "That could be a novel... really." But mostly Terminator. Well... about 17-18%. Of what I remember from when I watched Terminator when I was a teenager... and hated the ending so I never watched it again. It's completely derivative. We all are.

I Dream of Other Men

Of course in my dreams, I'm another woman, so it's probably not cheating... and sometimes I kill them or put them in books so that's probably less worrisome.

So, naturally, since I opened up Sentinel's Run and started working on it last night, my muse tried to sabotage my efforts by throwing a different idea at me in a dream.

Here's the plot:

Seventeen year old girl (we'll call her Amy) with photographic memory is a night stocker at a retail store... one of her fellow stockers is an undercover cop, and she knows that because she broke into his car and went through his glovebox, and he has his real name on his car insurance. (Amy does stuff like this... because she just likes to know everything, and he wasn't quite making sense.) Something about him just gets into her head and she memorizes everything about him... everything. One night, she corners him and kisses him. He's into her too, but they get caught, and he gets fired because she is underage, and he's not--and the night shift manager has been looking for an excuse to fire the one male who isn't on the take for whatever scam they're running. The guy... err... we'll call him Derek... blows up the investigation but then leaves town because he feels weird because he let a seventeen year old get into his head and screw with his brain. (It's actually because he has feelings for her against his will, but that's what he tells himself.)

Five years later, Amy works at her sister's motel, and they have a guest that her sister wants to set her up with, but Amy thinks he's hiding something. (Plus, Amy knows someone is after her because she saw something she shouldn't have... but that's a minor detail in her mind. She always knew her memory would get her killed.) Her sister keeps trying to set them up, but both are proving resistant to the idea in spite of the fact that the guy admits he finds Amy attractive. Amy goes into his room and goes through his papers, and he walks in and catches her... and this is the scene I woke up with stuck in my head:

Amy held up the papers with a smile. She knew it... she knew he wasn't who he said he was.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked from behind her.

Hearing his voice without seeing him snapped everything into place and Amy winced. Was she destined to always fall for the same guy only to have him never be who he said he was. This was reaching cliche status. She only hopes he wasn't sent to kill her... because that would suck.

"What are you doing?" he asked again.

She turned and held up the documents. "Who are you really?"

Derek, who claimed not to be Derek, blinked. "I'm a pharmaceutical salesman from Detroit who is looking to relocate to the area."

Amy grinned and set the papers down. "I love how you say it like you're reading it from a paper. Of course, they all do--all the people I've known over the years who've been lying about who they are. You know why that is, don't you? It goes into a part of their brain that strips out the extras."

She could see the thought as it entered his head... she'd always been that good at reading people, especially him. It's time to distract her before she finds out too much; the thought hit his head and face at the same time. It was in the twitch of his eyelid, and the way his eyes went to her mouth. If he flushed a moment later, she'd know he was thinking of all the things she could do with her mouth--this happened about half the time she met a guy. It was the problem with having such a big mouth--guys were constantly trying to think of ways to keep it shut.

"So, you've changed your mind about me? Only you'd like to skip dinner and head straight back to my place?" he asked, approaching her. His skin hadn't flushed... he was probably too busy trying to figure out how to recover from this.

"It won't work, you know? Distracting me won't work."

He frowned as he slid his arms around her. "I could always have you arrested for breaking into my room."

So, he wasn't here to kill her. That was good. She'd wondered for a moment when he'd gotten close.

"My sister owns this place. I have the key. Besides, I might have been coming to bring you extra towels."

He looked down at the papers spread across the bed, the papers that she'd clearly been rifling through. "I could use extra towels."

"Too bad. You've already used your quota," she said, sliding her fingers through his hair and dragging his mouth down to hers.

He kissed like he did before--like he was putting it all on the line and holding nothing back. She'd never met another guy who kissed like he did. It was as if she was dancing through his thoughts and he was letting her. No one ever kissed like that... especially not with her.

A moment later, she pulled back and looked into his eyes--half in wonder--half in horror. She was doing it again... she was falling for a guy who was going to disappear and leave behind nothing more than his fake name and a whole lot of memories about how he liked black licorice or what songs he'd be too embarrassed to put on a mix tape even if he hummed them under his breath.

"A girl never forgets her first kiss," she murmured.

His eyes dilated a minuscule amount more, and he blinked again... that moment of recognition of what she was saying. Then, he opened his mouth to lie, but she headed it off. "Don't bother lying. I know it's you. By the way, your car insurance gave you away again. I mean, not that you're Derek... but that you're not who you say you are. The insurance policy is clearly for a government-owned vehicle. I've seen enough over the years to recognize one. So you work undercover for the government these days?"

Derek scowled, though she could tell he was secretly impressed. "It's been five years. I've changed my face."

He had too. He'd had some plastic surgery done at some point. In some ways, it was an improvement. In some ways, she missed his old face.

"Yes, but you kiss the same." She slid out of his arms.

(Scene/wrap/Wendy goes back to work on Sentinel's Run and leaves muse hanging)

Rare and Wonderful Unicorn Books

Once upon a time, Diana and I were talking and she said something that stuck with me. She'd been gushing love for the second book in the Hunger Games trilogy and she said, "You know how you're always looking for that perfect book? That book that doesn't disappoint you? That book you enjoy from beginning to end and your inner editor turns off? THIS is that book!" I honestly thought the first in the trilogy ended up being even closer, but she wasn't wrong. And it stuck with me because I realized other people are searching for THOSE books too.

When you become a writer, it sometimes spoils reading for you. It's hard to turn off the voice inside that notices little things... the voice that wishes the author had tilted just a bit and gone a different way. Then there is the shouting during the truly awful books that make you wish you could bleach your brain or poke out your eyes.

Then, there are the unicorns... the mythical creatures so rare that when you find them you want to point them out to everyone--those books... THE BOOKS. You know which ones I'm talking about. The ones that don't require you to say, "It's really good other than...." when you recommend them. The ones that you just want to run and buy more copies to stick under your pillow and hopefully osmosify into your brain. (I can make up words like that--I'm a writer.)

These rare creatures make your heart sing... they make you believe that it's not just the trends being published... they make you shiver and dream of someday writing something even half as good. They make you wish that books never ended and a new page would show up tomorrow in the story. Or maybe you feel so satisfied with the ending you reread it again and again. They are the unicorn books.

When you become a writer, these books become even more rare. You know there is a man behind the curtain, and it's sometimes hard to lose yourself in a book like you once did. It's hard to not see the hand of the writer when you're reading.

I'm almost afraid to pick up a book that someone else has recommended because I know it'll disappoint me. The books won't keep their promise clear to the end... or maybe they will... and I'll regret that too because it wasn't a promise worth keeping. I hate when low expectations are met almost more than when high expectations aren't.

Don't get me wrong, I read commercial fiction and romance books where the sole promise is that they'll entertain. They don't let me down, but they're not unicorn books for the most part. My expectation is that they'll make me happy for a few hours but I'll ultimately forget them and reread them in a year or so. Sometimes, they rise above that expectation. Mostly they don't, and that's okay because I've lost myself in an entertaining book for a few hours and I'm grateful.

The other beautiful thing about unicorn books when you find them as a writer is that you can talk about them. You can TALK about them. You don't have to watch what you say and worry that an author, their editor, their agent, or their fans are going to take issue with what you say. You can say exactly what you think.

So, what is this all leading up to?

I loved the book Coraline. (We read it for our book club read this last month.) I loved it to scary, creepy, weird little pieces. I'm sure it's not a unicorn for everyone, but it was for me. I just wanted to hug it and say, "YES! This is what writing should be about! This is a good book!" Some of the lines were so perfect. SO PERFECT!

I've read a few books recently that let me down--drastically--and I just thought, "How was this published?" It was good to read a book that lived up to its promise.

That's not the beginning or end of my unicorn list, of course, but it got me thinking about the topic of living up to the promise to your reader that you present on the first page or the expectations they have when they look at the cover.

Also, it would be cool one day to have someone think my book was a unicorn book... but anyway.

On the subject of writing, Sarah is still working on notes, so I'm off the hook for a bit. I opened up my Dystopian WIP and I'm thinking of... *gasp* plotting out the book, so I can pop in and out of it a bit more in the coming months. (I know. This sounds like crazy talk to me too.) I also figured out a way to address an issue in my book Re:Straint/the mutant thing. I hope I have anyway. So, it's revision and plotting for me this week... and hopefully I'll hear back from my betas on Curse Me A Story soon. Have a good day everyone!

The Art of Deletion

So, I mentioned that I've been working on Curse Me A Story this previous week while Sarah was busy with BEA. I finished converting it to first person POV from third person POV which went well, and I like it. I like it a lot actually. It does create a quandary, though. Well, two quandaries.

The first quandary isn't necessarily a quandary so much as something I've noticed, I suppose. In a first person POV, even sex that is off the page... isn't quite so far off the page. In Curse Me A Story the characters are married and it's very, very off the page, but switching it from third to first person seems to drag it closer to the page itself. You're buried in the characters' thoughts so it makes sense that something as big as sex... wouldn't just stay in the background. Still, I hadn't realized that would happen, and I'm not sure what to think about it.

The second quandary is also due to the absence of the prologue and not just because of the conversion. (BTW I love it without a prologue. Sarah was soooooo right.) With the change to first person and a bit more inner dialogue, my first four chapters feel info-heavy even though I'm not sure that I added all that much. So, I need to work on those now and that might be a process that I come back to before Sarah and I tackle pitching Curse Me A Story (eventually.) (Sarah asked me to do this revision of Curse Me A Story back in January before she'd seen SECRETS and then she fell in love with SECRETS so we've been working on that.)

Adding elements to a story has never been a problem for me. Deleting excess... is much harder. Cutting without destroying flow? Oy. Snipping out unnecessary inner dialogue... makes my stomach cramp. I mean, when it comes down to character development... what is unnecessary? I'm trying to figure out how one does this. I'm convinced it must be an art. I've heard of writers highlighting everything they think is vital and then doing a cut and paste into a new document. I'm tempted to try that. Also, I'm terrified of that. LOL.

My goal, for today, is to cut 1K from the first four chapters. Ideally, I want it to be around 73K--which is where it started out the week. It's at 74, 693 words right now.

I did a read through on my Kindle and I've got around 200 notes to address too. Some are quirks left over from the conversion. (These quirks are hilarious to me because it sounds so disembodied when they turn up.) "I told himself not to worry." "My hand brushed her hair from my face." They're sort of creepy and funny... but I'm choosing not to share them with beta readers. I'm selfish that way.

In writing news... which isn't really news, Sarah met with the agency's film agent while at BEA, and they discussed my book and I'll have notes from that conversation as soon as Sarah recovers from the long week. I might be doing some requested work on SECRETS when I get those. So, I might be out of the cursed castle and back into Hidden Creek again fairly soon.

Being agented is different. You can't just pick up something random that you've worked on once upon a time and play around with it to your heart's content. It makes me grateful, once again, that this process took as long as it did. I have all these completed manuscripts behind me that I wouldn't have the time to just write "just because the story was there and I felt like it." Don't get me wrong, I love the SECRETS world of Hidden Creek. I love Piper's and Gris's voices. If I'm going to keep getting dragged back into a world... well, this is awesome, but it is different from how writing is before you're agented.

*Wendy looks at her dystopian and sighs*

In March, Sarah warned me to write what I wanted because it might be the last time I could work on whatever I wanted. Instead of working on the dystopian, I dove back into Hidden Creek and wrote PROMISES. I don't think Sarah regrets that because it fleshed out the world and there is the possibility I might make changes to SECRETS based on PROMISES. I don't completely regret it, but there is some part of me that keeps looking at the dystopian I want to work on and wondering if I actually need to sleep ever. I keep having crazy thoughts like, "If I work on SECRETS during the day in June, I can work on Sentinel's Run at night instead of sleeping."

Writers are crazy.

I'm the king of crazy... err... queen... or whatever.

Okay, well, that 1K isn't going to delete itself. Unless there is a massive harddrive failure... in which case... *knocks on wood*

I hope you guys are having a good weekend.

Dirty Little Secrets and Revisions

Well, I just finished revisions from Diana on Secrets of Skin and Stone. My husband is almost done with his read through, so I'm waiting to send it back to Sarah until tomorrow. It's weird to be nearly finished with revisions. I changed a bit on the end of SoSaS so there is always the chance that Sarah will ask for revisions on those revisions but, even then, I'm nearly done with this manuscript before going to submissions to editors.

It's weird. This feels more final. I mean, I do revisions on all my manuscripts fairly regularly. Whenever I'd get a request from an agent or I felt the nudge of the muse, I'd tear through a manuscript again and change things. My manuscripts get revised to pieces... and then I do it again six months later.

This is... weird. I mean, it's like a final revision before like professionals stare it down.

What if they hate it?

What if they don't?

It's surreal.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the muse has not been silent. Working on a sequel to Secrets of Skin and Stone feels like a dirty little secret, though. I've mostly learned my lesson about series writing. I really like the characters in the sixth and eighth books of my Company of Him books. Unfortunately you can't just rip a character out of its book if they're wedged into the series that deeply. Similarly, as much as I like the Honor series... they don't even kiss until the second book. There has to be a second book in that series. So, Honor is a series, like it or not, too.

Course... I say that I've learned my lesson but Sentinel's Run was going to be a series from the time the first word dropped onto the screen.

Huh.

Maybe I never learn.

Still, Secrets of Skin and Stone was NOT going to be a series... unless I was asked for it to be. It was going to be a stand alone unless someone said, "This needs to be a series. Do it, Wendy! I need more. The world needs more." Even then, I'd ask, "Are you really, really sure?" Then, they'd either offer me money or a cupcake before I'd give in.

*sighs* So, why am I 13K into the second book?

I'm supposed to be working on Sentinel's Run.

I can't sleep at night because of the bits of scenes that keep getting stuck in my head.

You know what would suck? It would suck if Sarah comes back to me and says that she doesn't like my new ending to Secrets of Skin and Stone, and she wants it to be more stand-aloney. (Yes, I just made up that word. I can do that. I'm a writer.)

*massages brain*

This is why you don't start writing a second book in a series. It's too complicated... and it feels like a dirty little secret. Well, that and having Gris and Piper invade my brain for another stretch is going to make me crazy... especially since Piper's issues are similar but not always compatible with my issues. (I can't remember why I made her like even numbers instead of odd numbers, but it's soooooooooo wrong.)

Anyway, remember, we're keeping this on the low-low, everyone. As far as you know, I'm either working on revisions or contemplating Sentinel's Run. This is our little secret. *locks lips, throws away the key* It's our dirty little secret.

WIPed by Wednesday

This isn't about Sentinel's Run... which it should be. I finished my revision of Secrets of Skin and Stone last night after eating, breathing, sleeping it for two straight days. It's gone on to my wonderful beta Di to be beaten into submission... for submission. I should be done with that book. (Other than revisions, of course.) I should be.

I'm not.

This also isn't about insomnia... it could be about that also. Last night was day six of my insomnia stretch. It's insomnia so deep and hungry that I'm just exhausted thinking about how exhausted I am. It's whipping me.

It's not about that.

No, it's about Promises of Light and Dark.

Huh?

Say what?

*everyone looks at schedule and taps on Sentinel's Run* *Wendy breaks down into sobbing and rocking in a corner.*

Dudes, it was ridiculous. I'm rewriting the last scene in Secrets of Skin and Stone and it's not... right. I waited until the wonder spouse took the kids off to scouts and activities and read it aloud... and Gris got into my head... and took over and rewrote the whole scene. Okay, fine. Still, it's done... right? No, because then Gris's first scene in the next book stole into my head.

The next book?

*Wendy's head hits the wall.*

All I wanted was to work on Sentinel's Run. Instead I couldn't sleep last night because I had this scene in my head from the next book... the book that didn't even exist until about midnight last night. The book that shouldn't exist because, as far as we know, Secrets of Skin and Stone is a stand-alone book.

Now, I can't get Gris out of my head. Life is not fair. It truly isn't. Writing Secrets of Skin and Stone was hard... and then their accents get into my brain and wriggle down deep, and I sound like a freak until it wears off. I have people ask me if I've been sick... my drawl is that noticeable. "No... I'm just crazy."

Ugh. On the other hand, I know how Promises of Light and Dark begins... and I won't be able to sleep until I get it out of my head and typed down. (Please just let it end there... for right now.) If the rest of March and April is eaten up by something that didn't exist until last night at midnight... *bangs head*

This post should fall under the category of: So, you thought you wanted to be a writer....

*sighs* And the stumble begins....

The stumbling story- my writing process

So, my mom and I got into a discussion about how I start a story. She is working on a series of MG novels and she wanted to know how my process starts because she is feeling stuck. Honestly... I think my writing process is like stumbling. It's a weirdly accurate metaphor and I'm intimately familiar with stumbling. This is how it starts:

An idea pops into my head out of nowhere... this is the rock, dip, my own foot getting in the way that starts the stumbling. I'll use Secrets of Skin and Stone as an example. In Secrets, it was the way a person with OCD often thinks they've done something terrible even if they have no proof. In the case of Secrets of Skin and Stone, Piper thinks she has killed her dog. This was the rock that started the stumble.

Now picture a good hard stumbling fall toward a face plant.... If you're clumsy, you know the feeling of inevitability that hits you from that first moment. Still, you try to recover. You wave your arms around. You perform acrobatics. Anything! Everything! You might pull muscles trying to recover but it's all instinctual and it seems worth it at the time.

Back to the metaphor:

My story builds with momentum as more scenes drop into my head. With Secrets, I thought up Gris's character and his dialogue when he meets Piper next. I thought of how it would be cool if he was a gargoyle. Dialogue scenes and action scenes are the frantic hand waving that help draw out the stumble. I write them down fast and it flows from scene to scene as I write frantically.

The quick steps I take trying to prevent the face plant are crucial scenes that keep the story up in the air... (the cutting scenes, the mystery, the flying scenes) but... it's all leading to a glorious face plant/ bite of cement.

As the ground rushes up/ the story draws to a close... I generally quit sleeping so I can write more. Usually the last 10K of a story is written in one or two days where I barely do anything besides writing. When I hit "the end" it's quite the rush... and, yes, sometimes it's a little painful and disorienting, but I've hit it hard and with gusto.

It's a solid pantsing style from beginning to end. The few times I tried plotting... I don't face plant with a story. In fact, I usually recover and just walk off. With motivation, I can finish it... as I did with the Odyssey retelling last year, but it's really hard for me. My writing style needs that crazy momentum you get in a dangerous free-fall where I write on instinct.

Anyway, I know this is different from most... sane writers.

Right now, I've got an abnormal amount of WIPs in process because something stopped my stumbling. (I know... I've managed to make stumbling a good thing, but I need the adrenalin rush from the process to keep me going.)

I have three WIPs that I've mentioned before: The Chosen Changeling, My Other Life, and The Sentinel's Run.

The Chosen Changeling I stopped because I suddenly didn't know what came next. This hardly ever happens to me. It was... strange and worried me. Being a pantser and having your inspiration dry up... is terrifying. Luckily, this hardly ever happens... and I know I can work through it, but when writing feels like magic rather than work, it's scary when the magic stops.

My Other Life fell prey to the shiny-new short story phenomenon that I occasionally go through where I get distracted by an easy, quick rush from completing a short story. Short stories are so simple and I get the "woo! I finished!" after just 5 K instead of 50K... it's... seductive. I actually know how this one ends and I have the bare bones of the entire plot in my brain... which is extremely rare for me. I really should finish it.... The other thing is that this ms is my first foray into Literary with Magical Realism. I really didn't know how to query it considering I wasn't planning on writing in that genre again. Luckily, that's become a moot point. (Yay! I have an agent! Yay!)

Sentinel's Run was the most tragic momentum halt because it was literally flying from my brain and the voice in that ms is perfect and rich... (I LOVE this ms... LOVE it) but I received requests from agents, and I was working through getting things lined up for them. *sighs* It's sad when a good thing falls prey to another good thing. I keep wanting to dive back into it and eat and breathe it for a few weeks. Sarah just gave me permission to finish it when I'm done with Secrets revisions. Woooo!

While I was explaining this method to my mom... I also brought up this idea I got for a story right before I left for Disneyland. (I actually got two ideas for stories right before.) Both ideas came in the form of a scene in my head. The one I described was for "Frosted" and it was the first scene in the book. It was almost all action... so I quickly wrote that 1K down before I closed my laptop and finished packing for Disneyland. I described it to my mom... not thinking that my niece was sitting right there. LOL. My niece said, "You've GOT to write that!" after I was done. It made me laugh. Apparently, I pitched perfectly to my nine year old niece. She also wanted candy or Candyland involved, though... so maybe the idea needs work. ; )

The second idea... I actually had already forgotten, but I'd written it down. This idea came from an emotion experienced during a later scene in the ms I'm calling "The Spider Prince." So, the short blurb I wrote on that one to help me remember it... won't make sense to anyone but me really. (If any of you remember my notes from Honor 7... it's horrifying how rambling and odd they are.) I'm less sure how to start "The Spider Prince" but I know the skeleton of the story up until this scene half-way through.

I'll probably pick one of them to write for NaNoWriMo this year. I have no idea how either of them end... which is completely normal for me. Until then, they're just documents waiting for attention... and hopefully they'll play nice and not cause insomnia.

So, that's it. That's how I write. You won't find it in any "How to" books, and I don't necessarily advocate it, but that's how it goes. It's worked for me over two dozen times now, so.... *shrugs* It's inelegant, chaotic, and insane, but whatever works....

To Laptop or Not to Laptop--That is the Question

So, this weekend is my annual girls' weekend sanity trip. We'll be hitting Disneyland among other places. My sister and my BFF Stephanie will be there with me. It's the only time I get away from the kids for more than 24 hours at a time during the entire year... and it's glorious. Stephanie started the tradition four years ago when I was killing myself to help the kids get services, and I was a wreck. I'd been with the kids for five years straight at that point... like... straight... no vacations without them ever. Every day. Day in. Day out. Yeah, I was a wreck. Anyway, so it's our annual trip, and I'm really excited. The husband watches the kids and they love it... and they even pitch fits when I come home sometimes because they love the time with Daddy so much.

BTW, this is just another reason I love my husband so much. He insists and supports I take this trip.

So, wooooooooooooo! Disneyland!!!!!!

Naturally, after my brain being free from the rolling storyboard and dialogue that normally plagues me... which is thanks to eating and breathing Secrets of Skin and Stone... I woke up this morning with two story ideas in my brain and a strong desire to finish off Sentinel's Run. I've had Sentinel's Run stuck in my brain ever since I set it down to work on other projects last year, but this time... I don't think I'll be able to put it off. So, after I tackle the revisions from Sarah on Secrets of Skin and Stone, I think I'm going to beg, borrow, or steal the time to finish Sentinel's Run.

I'm torn on whether to take my laptop with me on the trip or leave it behind. It worries me that these two ideas I woke up with are as pernicious as they are. I'll try to jot down what's in my brain and walk away from them. We'll see. There is always the possibility that I won't be able to sleep at night because they'll eat at my brain. (Zombie ideas... I think I have a zombie muse.) On the other hand, if anything happens to my laptop... I'll go stark raving insane.

Gah! We'll be switching hotels tomorrow and have a rental car and I just feel weird about leaving my laptop all day... unprotected... in a rental car in L.A. *screams* Tell me that doesn't sound scary. It's like leaving my soul on the sidewalk for someone to step on.

BTW... being agented is weird. I tried to explain to the kids that it's like "Mommy has a job now." Well, I didn't expect it to feel like another 24 hour job like motherhood is. It's weird. Now, if I go goof off on Twitter... I feel like I'm playing hooky. If I work on revising a different project... hooky again. If I'm doing anything when I could/should/normally would be writing... I feel guilty. I've been told this feeling fades, but I've raised guilt and paranoia to an art form so I'm skeptical.

Well, I should get the rest of my packing done and leave the laptop until the end so I can stare it down. Can I walk away from being a writer until Monday night? I haven't taken it the last two years... I don't think.

Gah! What's nobler in the mind? I just don't know.

Anyway, I might post pictures on Twitter and get on there a few times, but I probably won't be on the blog until next week. Have a good weekend, everyone!

This Geeky Writer Gets Nuts

Okay... so I don't usually do this (create geeky things,) but I'm very excited about this dystopian/post-apocalyptic YA I'm writing. It's called "The Sentinel's Run."

I keep backing up to file away more back-story to reference.

I've adjusted pictures of my two main characters. This is Coby. He's the narrator and becomes a Sentinel.

This is Mori. She is radioactive.

Coby lives in Tereslay, a small farming community. At the age of seventeen, he enters mandatory military service for five years--as do all of the males at seventeen.

He travels to the Dunn which is the main military outpost guarding what remains of North America from an army of machines that have destroyed the rest of the world and made most everywhere inhabitable.

Anything with digital components can be turned against the remaining humans. The sentinels are fighting to push forward the "Line" which is a barricade protecting the habitable land from the "Anbot"/machine army. The Anbots send the machines that they've turned against the humans to kill them as well as digital crows to spy on them. (In this picture.)

Here is what remains of North America. The rest is either inhabited by Anbots, or destroyed and impassable. The dark section is the line which they're trying to maintain.

Anyway, I'm pretty excited about it. I've got a bunch more info tucked away like the ranks of the military and slang and speech patterns. It's going to be somewhere between 50K and 60K when finished... I think, and I think it'll be the first of two books, but I haven't worked that out completely.

So, now... I'll go rub my hands together in glee and contemplate the level of my craziness. BAWAHAHA!