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Skyward

I hope you all had a happy holiday season! I know I did. In some ways I’m just a big kid, because I’m super excited about my presents! I got a variable temperature kettle so I can make green and white teas without bitterness. Squee! I also got a skein of the most expensive yarn I’ve ever touched. I’m terrified to knit with it, to be totally honest. What I love most though is scouring the neighborhood for cool light displays and drinking tea (squee) to warm up. It is always so hot here, I absolutely love the cold.

Otherwise, I spent a lot of time hanging out with the kids and the husband and playing Zelda Skyward Sword. We had a marvelous, lazy week last week (not counting the day we had a ton of people over for solstice. That was not lazy, but it was full of really good food and neat people).

The best part was that I could afford the time off because Waking Kiara is in the hands of several awesome beta readers. I have gotten feedback from two and I’m scared/excited/flattered because both of them liked the story. I plan to start queries at the end of January at the very latest. Maybe this time next year I’ll be squeeing about a book deal? Or, you know, writing about the power of rejections. Or maybe both. *bites nails*

Onward and upward!

 

Synopsizing

I make up all kinds of words. I’m a real writer ™.

I have reached the end of another round of edits on Waking Kiara*. It still needs a pass through for grammar, and I’m hoping to get some feedback from a couple awesome beta readers. Once those fixes are in place, the novel is ready for submission.

Thank goodness for the find/replace function. I’ve edited out so many useless words, I can’t even BEGIN TO count them. Ugh. (Began has been almost entirely banninated. As has seemed.)

I’ve moved on to the synopsis, for now, letting the words themselves sit for a while. A synopsis doesn’t seem like a difficult task, but it is kind of a big deal. You’re selling the project in three pages or less (preferably two, but right now it is looking like three.) So I can’t just hit the important points, but I also have to show character growth, relationship struggles and resolutions, and exciting bits that make the story fun to read.

Also how do you write down that the characters had the lovins? I mean, I can’t exactly say “they had the lovins here.” Or as my oldest kid would put it, “they did IT.”

A synopsis is more than a summary, but less than a story. It’s an extended movie trailer with the ending included.

I’m motivated, though. I think this is a decent, fun story. The potential for a series is there. Shoot half a draft of the second novel is written already. I’m gonna synopsize until I can synopsize no more. Wish me luck.

*HOORAYYYY! Two huge projects completed in the last six months. Feels good.

!!!!!!!!!!!

Worse Things is officially DONE.

Wait, that’s not even a little bit true.

The FIRST DRAFT of Worse Things is officially done! Woohoo! *throws confetti* (is it weird to throw myself confetti? I don’t care.)

I sincerely hope I like this novel when I pull it out of storage in a month or so to start edits. I like it now, so I’m hoping that will carry through.

As it is, Caroline and company have a beginning, middle and end, which is more than I can say for a lot of stories I’ve written over the years. I’m pleased to put it on the windowsill to cool, as it were. I confess I’m already seeing problems, issues with the continuity, perhaps a character I’ve neglected to flesh out well enough. For now though? I’m celebrating the success!

Oh  yeah, and back to editing Waking Kiara. Next goal? Get that baby queried. I want it done, and out of my hands to see what it can do in the wide world. So much for time off, right?

Can’t Talk, Reading

Today’s edition of CTR is brought to you* by Santa Olivia, by Jacqueline Carey.

Carey writes a series of books that I lovingly call the “Kushiel” books, although I’m not sure that’s what they’re actually called. There are nine of them set in the same world, a vast fantasy alt-earth. The most recent installment took us to a fantasy version of Central America that left me very disturbed whenever I pass an ant colony. But I digress. I love these books. They are the first fantasy novels I can recall enjoying since Mercedes Lackey’s Fate series when I was a youngster. There are parts of her world that I believe in so strongly I’ve found myself sending prayers to her gods. That’s good world building.

Santa Olivia has nothing to do with this world, these novels. So I was a bit nervous going in, as you can imagine if you’ve ever had a passion for a series of books.

I was wrong to be worried. Carey is an amazingly talented author. She has a lot of strengths, but her female characters might be at the top of that list. She creates women I want to be, to hang out with, who are realistically flawed and full of depth. Carmen and Loup Garron are no exception to that rule. Strength, grim resolve, powerful emotional resonance but not in the “drama queen” sense at all. Amazing women.

You might have guessed from the name “Loup” that there are wolves in the mix. Werewolves. Kind of. Put the ablicious kind out of your head and consider–if we tampered with human DNA, added… things, what would we get? We get Loup. We get a dystopian future US where some kind of superflu (captain tripps anyone?) has wiped out a lot of folk.  We get a fascinating, believable situation wherein people are hurting and dying but not as much from the flu anymore as from a government with too much power and too many secrets.

I am loving this book. I was reading in the hot tub** and turned into a giant prune yesterday because I couldn’t tear myself away from it. I love the way she takes tired mythology and turns it into something utterly new (in these and the other books she’s written). I love her voices, her worlds. This is a good one, highly recommended!

This reminds me–feel free to friend me on Good Reads. I’d love to see your reviews of Santa Olivia, or other books. I’m always up for a recommendation!

*not with actual money. More like in the Sesame Street style of”brought to you by.”

**world’s tiniest violin, I know. Trust me, the hot tub is a luxury I NEVER take for granted.

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The NaNo Blog Chain Fate

Now that November has passed, what will happen to the NaNo Blog Chain?

I plan to leave it up all year, and as long as I can going forward. Feel free to remove your blog from the list if it was a 2011-only deal, but I hope to stay in touch with the authors I met and check up on them all year long. I am thrilled to get to know some writer buddies.

So, I’m leaving everything there. Feel free to add your blog at any time, also. If you do NaNoWriMo, even if you join in July, you’re welcome!

Win! A success story, less 10K

Woohoo! I’ve hit the 50K mark (and change) for November writing, thus winning my sixth NaNoWriMo challenge. I actually won the thing while watching the Thanksgiving parade on mute. That was surreal, as it turns out. Huge balloons and dance routines with no sound? Just a bit Ood.

The book is not quite finished. I’m about halfway through the pivotal end scene. Horror and death will soon ensue. I’m looking forward to diving into it today, actually. Horror and death are fun to write. I often wonder what is wrong with me, then I shrug and get back to the killin’ (but only on paper. Yeah. Only paper.)

This was the fastest I’ve ever crossed the NaNo finish line. Looking back, I can think of a few reasons I flew through this novel with six days to spare. (Six days! Luxury.)

1. A writing habit. I had been writing daily, as you, invisible imaginary reader, know. I had been writing/editing nearly every day, possibly with weekends off, for at least a month or two before NaNo began. NaNo doesn’t really allow for days off, but all I had to do was add a couple days a week rather than shift from zero to seven.

2. The story. I had a story well underway by November. I’d written 15K, but more importantly, I’d done nearly all the world building and character research I needed to do already. I had an outline. The outline still had the “and them some stuff happens” 25-35K section, but I had a far better idea where I was going than I have in previous years. I even had something of an endgame in mind, though the endgame got pushed up to the end of the middle game and a different endgame was born. Kinda. This is how it goes, though, as you draft. Middle game. It’s a thing. I also had a real vision for the pacing and theme of the story, so I could always return to those things when stuck.

3. The midnight dash bump. No really. Two sets of word count in one day really do set me off right. I was double where I was supposed to be by the end of day one. It helps.

4. 2K per day. I aimed for that instead of the usual 1667. I read on Twitter that someone was aiming for that, in 500 word chunks. 4 500 word sessions is way less daunting than one 2K session. There were many days I hit 1500, then thought that 500 was so easy, might as well do that also. Worked really, really well.

5. Write ins. I didn’t make very many, due to certain spouses having the nerve to need to work late or something. Gah, don’t spouses know that writing maniacally with a bunch of other writers is more important than income?! Sheesh. However the ones I did get to helped me double my word count for the day.

6. I’ll confess to a small amount of racing with one of my NaNo buddies. I won, too, by about 12 hours. MWAHAHA.

7. Tea. Lots of tea. I can’t really eat as much pie as I would like these days, so went to the mall and treated myself to some tasty fancy teas. Then consumed them in mass quantities (quantiTEAS. See what I did thar?). Treating yourself is always a good thing, no matter how you do it.

8. Constant creative mindset. Even when I wasn’t writing, I kept the RadioMuse channel tuned. I heard a lot of static, but I kept listening. Occasionally something came through, and was beautiful. I was angsting about a certain plot point on Twitter, and the second I posted about it, the idea came to me. Keeping the creative juices flowing throughout the day really helped the story gain traction.

Don’t get me wrong, there were difficult sections. I’m convinced that 20-35K is the swamp of sorrows for first drafts. It’s like, the more you struggle, the faster you sink to your death. I don’t know why, but I’ve encountered the phenomenon enough times to know it isn’t unusual, at least for me. I’ve learned to take that section one word at a time, just keep slogging through, and eventually the magic will occur and there will be a path out.

I hope everyone is having a great end run toward 50K about now, or already validated and coasting on the high. Either way, see you on the flip side, NaNoEdMo. *shudder*

Narcissistic Hubris

Otherwise known as the excerpt from the WIP. Writing is hard. Why didn’t someone warn me about this?

Anyway, here is an excerpt from the NaNo, which is going strong at nearly 30K. I’m on the other side of the hill now, in both NaNo word count and in the book itself. I’ve got a middle and an end planned out, the rest is just details. Difficult, fussy details. But I digress. This is mostly unedited. Theoretically, everything is spelled correctly. I do not think this is a final draft, but I think it’s a fun little piece of my raw writer’s delusional mind. Or something like that.

The man stood on the far end of the parking lot, illuminated under a single halogen lamp. He wore no clothes but for a length of cloth tied around his waist and covering his genitals. Light flashed in the Weir’s eyes, and his white teeth gleamed in the dark. The man was grinning a sick, mental grin. Intel hadn’t been bad—the man was covered in tattoos. No skin remained untouched apart from a small frame around his facial features and presumably the genitals although Iain wondered. His skin was a riot of color, bright and faded. The rough ground of the asphalt must have been grinding into his bare feet but he didn’t seem to register anything but Iain and the Lord arguing across the way. Tattoos of koi and samurais writhed in the yellowed light. They danced and bulged and twisted all over his skin like they could fly right off and become real. Iain realized with a start that the man had already summoned a demon.

He shouted to the Lord, he remembered that much, but then he ran. He ran as far and as fast as his body allowed. He was a servant then, still in training in a compound outside of Dublin, and in the best shape of his life. He ran without looking back. The pressure in the air changed—what had been a damp London fog became a hot, dry desert as he ran. His ears popped as the creature emerged from the Weir*. Still he ran, lungs burning and muscles screaming for oxygen.

He had no idea how far he ran. When he finally collapsed in an undignified heap on the pavement, people stepped around him. He’d run toward the city center, it appeared, which bustled with people. He dared to look behind him, and the convention center was long out of sight. The Lord was also nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’d run a different direction. Cautiously, he made his way back, always looking for the demon sign—a smell of sulfur or a brightly colored smoke but none made themselves visible. He got nearly back to the convention center before he saw it.

From a long way off, he saw a smear of orange passing under halogen after halogen, disappearing in the dark in between. The Weir, an even smaller smear from this far away, seemed to be standing exactly where he had been. As Iain watched, the demon floated around lazily. His training told him the creature had consumed everything it would, sent all life around it to the Great Void for his fellow demons to feed on, and now simply waited to die. No demon could live long in the world, they were compelled to die once through. The Lord, of course, was gone. Iain held out a brief flicker of hope that the idiot might have run away, but his sinking gut told him the truth. The man was dead, consumed by the demon. Shit.

*Weir: a person who can open a gate with their body to summon demons from the Great Void.

Back to the salt mines! How are your NaNovels going?

Guest Post

In between manic writing sessions, I did a guest spot on WrimosFTW. The blog is great, full of support and pep from newbie NaNo authors and practiced veterans. They have contests and other goodies, too.

Check it out! But if all your writing time is sucked up reading the great articles, don’t blame me :)

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What makes a novel?

What I feel like I struggle with is… the magic spark. The way to take an account, a listing of events, and morph them into a novel.

When I settle in and read a really *good* novel, it takes me somewhere else. I disappear into the vast desert beyond Tull with Roland, I memorize the name of God with Phedre. I’m right with Pendergast and his bottomless jacket pockets as he tracks a creature in a museum. I don’t feel like I’m an observer in these tales, but that I’m right inside them. That’s the difference between an account and a novel.

The magic spark, the sprinkle of glitter (or grave dirt), is the thing I always seem to be seeking now. I want to evoke. I want to pull a sense of fear or excitement or just plain curiosity from a reader. But how?

I don’t want to be a copy artist, stealing from better authors to inform my own work. I want to find my own way to it. It is still pretty foggy out here in storyland.

I’m here though. Caroline’s world keeps getting worse, as intended. Word by word, we’ll get there.

And we’re off!

NaNoWriMo has begun! I’m a bit of a cheater, working on a story that I’ve written on already. However, I promise I’m only counting new words so I don’t think I’m that bad. I had a great first 1000 words, then stalled out because I ended a chapter and began another. But I solidered on, and managed 2000 words for the midnight dash! Whee!

It’s a writer’s narcissism at work, posting tidbits of the fiction-in-progress. That does not stop me from doing it.

“Good morning new person!” A man who could only be Priest smiled at her. He stood in a pair of polar bear pajama bottoms and a white wife beater shirt. He was probably sixty, but his eyes glittered like he was much younger, and happy to see her. He looked like Santa Claus would look if he wasn’t wearing the usual red suit and had maybe lost a few pounds. His shock white hair and beard were disheveled, like he’d just crawled out of bed. But Caroline couldn’t figure where he had slept, since all the beds were full of teenagers.

Starting a sentence with But? Really, me? Really? I realize this is what edits are for, but man my fingers are itching to go back and fix things already. BAD INNER EDITOR, BAD.

Why not fix it? The point of a first draft is simply to get everything out. I certainly do the best work in the moment, but the first draft is far more about story, pacing, characters and basic “putting things on paper” than it is about the perfect phrasing. That I can do in edits. Many novels never leave the first page because we keep going back over them, polishing and fixing sentences and phrasing. That’s the beauty of NaNoWriMo–no time to fix things. No time to edit, just time to dive in the pool and write write fraking write.

At the end of the month, you have  a lot of sentences that start with “but,” and a lot of repeat words. But you also have a story where one didn’t exist before. That is pure magic.