Names don't matter--unless you have a really stupid one--and then they do.

Or... porn name. C'mon. If you had any of the Bond girl names, would they hire you at Disneyland to hang out with a name tag that said "Pussy Galore"? No. No, they wouldn't.

Wait... what was I talking about? OH! Names... or titles or both.

I changed the name of all three of the manuscripts I'm querying during the last two weeks. The funny thing is that the one I haven't been mentioning online by its real name... is now called "Curse Me a Story." Scorched and Re:Straint both now have names that I won't be mentioning online anymore. Why? They're really good names. When I was on Twitter this last week, an editor was bemoaning the fact that she didn't have any Angels/Demons on her docket right then because she'd just thought of the perfect title. She wasn't going to share it of course... because it was that good.

That's the way it goes with this whole business, you know?

I was in a chat room at the beginning of the year and when I mentioned my name... one of the agents commented, "That's a really good name."

Yeah it is... which is weird, of course... because it really is my name, but still....

So, the other reason I'm thinking of it is because I just finished a Maeve Binchy book. It was awesome. It was basically a bunch of short stories intertwined around a town. It was well-written, funny, not stodgy... the voices were entertaining... I couldn't put it down. On the other hand, if it hadn't been a book club read, I never would have read it. NO WAY. C'mon... the author's name was Maeve Binchy. It practically screams "Literary Read for Old People" to me. I was actually prepared to yawn through this book. I didn't. I loved it.

So... what's in a name? A reputation... an assumption... a bestseller?

I've been working on my vampire book... not Honor... the one I'm continuing from the short story I wrote. (Yes, JT convinced me to do it.) I'm never going to publish this book under my name. No way. It's not trashy but it turns out that Darcy is the way she is because she was raped when she was converted into being a vampire. Violence and sex have built some funny quirks in her mind... and not "funny" as in "ha ha"... well, not just funny in that way anyway. I want to finish this story but there is no way I'd want my teenage beta reader to dive into it thinking it's like my other books. It's got some mature subjects in it in my opinion.

So, a name is a name is a name is a lot of stress and pressure and you thought picking the right name for your baby is hard. I still haven't gotten much feedback on this new round of queries. What if the agents take a look at "Curse Me A Story" and say, "You're ugly and your mama dresses you funny!"

What... it could happen....

Day Twenty-four and a bit--and finished.

That's right! Woo woo! At 80, 407 words, it's finished. Scorched is done--other than a massive rewrite, because I decided my new villain needed a more central role--and redemption. Sweet! A redeemed villain.

Plus, I changed about three people's names today alone. Holy cow! Everyone got a new name today. I even swapped a shadowhound's name with a demon. So there. Neeners.

Still, it's done. This calls for Frosting and maybe some sugary liquid of some kind. I could go for some ginger ale.

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 One Down! Surname Casualty

Well, poor Seth's last name was a casualty tonight. His name isn't... whatever I said it was. I needed him to meet Sidra in alphabetized homerooms.

I got in some good writing today. I crossed 5000 words just now--ten minutes before midnight. It feels good to write and write and write.

I should check the fire before I go to bed. B just woke up. She might have just had a nightmare--she has them too.

So, yay, NaNoWriMo is officially on. I'm already cruising toward my goal--which will most likely be to actually FINISH the book at 75,000, but we'll see. I keep hitting rough patches the last two months. I think it's all the rewriting and querying. Still, I haven't been cruising through the books at warp speed lately.

Okay--my kids have school tomorrow. I'm off to try to sleep.

"The time has come,"

the Walrus said. "To talk of many things: of shoes--of ships--of sealing wax--of cabbages and kings And why the sea is boiling hot--and whether pigs have wings." ~ Lewis Carroll

So, it's officially November 1st--which means that NaNoWriMo has begun. (National Novel Writing Month) I'm signed up to be a participant in the mad attempt to write 50,000 words during the month of November.

Unfortunately, while I stayed up late to ring in the month, I'm exhausted and over-stimulated from too much Halloween-ing. I'm completely weened out. It was fun, but I'm exhausted.

The MCs for my novel are:

Drumroll.

Sidra Tempe (nickname Scorch)

Seth Gray

YA Urban Fantasy/Paranormal

First Person Narrative

The time has come.... BAWAHAHA!

Okay. I'm tired. Good night. Happy NaNoWriMo, Everyone. Oh, if you feel like adding me as a buddy on there, I've decided to get all complicated and go by: Wendy Sparrow

A Rose by any other name would be called Tara

Above is one of my "goofing around with my new touch screen" pictures done with Paint. (I had Photoshop on my normal computer, but that computer fried. C'est la vie. It's minimalistic to have to work with a program meant for so little use. Yeah. That's it.)

So, I'm trying to pick a new name for my Dystopian's MC. Her name is currently Tara, and I don't know why I picked it because it just didn't fit her.

I've been going through IMDb looking for better names for her and for my NanoWrimo entry. I'd read somewhere recently about someone doing this, but I can't remember where. I've always previously gone through baby books... which isn't a big help for surnames... for the record. It's really fun to look up some of the bigger Hollywood movies and get down to the make-up artists and mix and match first and last names.

That's basically what I've done with my day. (I know--it's pathetic, but I'm sick, so I'm pretending it's not.)

Okay... back to my monologue on names:

Speaking of names, my son, T, has decided, at six, that he would like to go by the nickname "T.J." from now on. We haven't quite established if we're to implement this immediately or if he'll be doing this on a case-by-case basis. T was initially going to be called T.J. until he was born and we decided not to initialize because he didn't look like a T.J. He likes the way it looks-- two letters--side by side. I don't know what the expectation is, but it feels a little strange to suddenly start calling our son a different name. One of my brothers was known as "Dave" at work whereas we'd never called him that a day in his life. It was strange to hear that he was a "Dave." He didn't look like a "Dave" in my opinion. (I find it strange that we have these preconcieved notions of what "So-and-so" looks like based on names. I found out that Diana doesn't look like Wonder Woman today. I know... weird, huh?)

I don't have a nickname or a pet name even. Not really. I keep trying to get the husband to call me "bug" or really anything sweet, but he isn't like that. My mom calls me Wen-weet, and I really keep trying to get her to stop. (Wendy makes retching noises.) The kids call me "Mom" and "Mommy" and that's as close as it gets. Sigh. I call the kids all kinds of nicknames as does the husband--they're more pet names, though, not anything you'd put on a form as a "I go by this sometimes" sort of thing. (Wendy snickers to self and considers putting "Sweetie" in the next 'fill in the blank" that comes.)

I want to have a nickname. I wish it was as easy when an adult to get a nickname. Nicknames make you feel special like you mean something to someone more than you do to other people. I think other women get that, but I don't really think guys do. I shorten the husband's name (for that reason) and he gets annoyed, but doesn't say anything. He only lets me do that... which makes me feel special. I won't say all nicknames are like that or are something that one would choose, but some nicknames are like that. It's not like Wendy is easy to shorten into anything and rats on that, but still... I want a nickname.

Wow. This is so completely random.

So, as I was picking my names for my characters I was also thinking along the lines of "but they'll go by this" and picking nicknames for them. I like the process of naming characters. I also like the find and replace function for when I name people the wrong thing and I realize that half-way through.

Okay, I need to buckle down and pick a new name for Tara.... Poor thing. It's a good thing this doesn't happen in real life to people. ("Sorry... your father and I hate the name we chose for you fifteen years ago, so now we'll be calling you Penelope. Cheers.")

Okay, then... Wendy needs more sleep and to stop talking about herself in the third person.