Is it getting hot in here?

Happy Valentine's Day! What better way to celebrate than with a steamy blog hop? This kissing scene hop is the brainchild of Hope Roberson and Cassie Mae. Thanks for thinking up such an perfect topic for today.

My scene is from my newest WIP, a paranormal romance featuring vampires. Never thought I'd write a vampire story, but now I never say never, lol. The hero is a embittered (and crude) vampire prince who hates humans until the day he meets the heroine, a human liaison to the vampire nation. She hates and fears vampires, having lost her ex to his own obsession with becoming a vampire. This is their first kiss. I probably shouldn't have picked a first draft, but most of my stuff is too graphic for public consumption :) Thanks for coming by!

As they neared Ptolomy’s mansion, Val clutched her satchel with an iron grip, her knuckles white. Her lips trembled, and he could smell her fear again. She pulled her thick black peacoat tighter, readjusting the tie at her waist. He felt her chill, it was written so plainly in her body language. Her vulnerability broke open a pocket of warmth in him. Without thinking, he reached for her, pulling her close against his side.

She sat stiffly at first. He stroked his hand up and down her arm, firm and soothing. Her body softened, the tension easing, and she relaxed her head against his shoulder. Unable to deny himself, he nuzzled her pale wheat curls, that heady lilac scent too much to resist. She was softer than mink. He turned his head to brush his cheek against the luxurious sensation.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze. Those eyes were brilliant pools of Caribbean, her pupils dilated with arousal. Hell yeah, she wanted him. But they were also wide with surprise. He’d only wanted to comfort her, but now his head dipped toward hers. When she licked her lips in response, it was all he could do to be gentle when he wanted to ravage her mouth. He touched his lips to hers, a tender sweep across and back again. An electric charge zipped all the way to the bottom of his feet, drawing his body tight. Just as he would have settled more firmly against her sweet mouth, the door swung open.

She jerked away from him, her fingers at her lips. Her eyes clouded with confusion and regret. F**k. He shot his driver a withering look, and the man cringed. He shook his head sharply before the man could stumble over an apology. Douchebag had also arrived at the side of the car, and Kade didn’t want the bastard to know anything was amiss. Holding a hand out for Val, he guided her out of the car and to the heavy doors of the mansion where Ptolomy no doubt waited impatiently for them.

Optional reading only, Val's POV (Graham is "Douchebag" to Kade):

Her lips tingled where Kade’s had been, and Val’s mind was a jumble. Why had she let that kiss happen? She’d been at the head of a panic attack. Maybe that had weakened her enough to succumb to Kade. Maybe she would have taken the comfort from anyone. That didn’t really fly because had it been Graham, she would have turned a cheek. She knew because Graham had made the attempt before.

Even more surprising than her easy participation was Kade himself. He’d caressed her hair with his face, like a thoughtful lover, and it had put her body and mind into a sweet, blissful fog. He’d been so soft, so careful, his lips whispering along hers. She would have taken him for the caveman-kiss type complete with bruising force and an invasion of tongue and teeth.

“Ready for this?” Kade asked. With a start, she realized they were in the foyer, and she was still holding his hand. She dropped it like it was on fire. Apparently it had been on fire because her hand was hot from the contact.

Origins Blogfest: the chicken or the egg?

Today's blogfest is brought to you by DL Hammons along with co-hosts Alex J Cavanaugh, Katie Mills, and Matthew MacNish. The 'fest is all about how we got started on the writing journey. Thanks for dreaming this up, guys. I'm looking forward to reading about what lit the spark for other writers!

Sometimes I wonder if I write because I was born a writer or if I am a writer only because I write. I've always loved books. My world was all about books, books, books. After all, I lived in the boonies, only had one really bad tv channel, and didn't get out much. From junior high on, I'd written short stories, decent ones, and some poems, really bad ones!

By the time I got to college, I had quite a collection of stories and gained a lot of encouragement from my instructors and the Dean of the English Department. I was majoring in English, and then I started on the newspaper. The writing there burned me out so hardcore that I stopped reading and then stopped writing. I couldn't look at a book without feeling nauseous. I didn't finish college. Still haven't, I'm sorry to say.

Roll forward thirteen years. I was in the Navy, separated over a year from family, out to sea on deployment, and still hadn't cracked a book open other than what I had read to my kids. We'd gotten a box of books in, and when your life becomes work-sleep-work-sleep-work-sleep-work, you'll do just about anything to break the cycle. So I began reading again, and reading and reading. I was reading one to two books per day. I ran out of books. We got a new shipment which included a famous series. All the girls read and hated it. After a lot of discussion, we decided what we wanted to see in a novel, and I was challenged to write one.

Thus the gauntlet was thrown, and for the first time, I was up for the challenge. I wrote my first manuscript in less than four weeks. It was only for fun, I swear, but they loved what I wrote. I was asked to write about some of the other characters, and I realized I loved the way I felt when I was writing. I loved how it felt to share the writing and how it felt to talk about the stories with people who loved the stories.

Two years later, I have three finished manuscripts with plenty of nibbles for them and about two dozen other ms pans in the fire. I know if I keep learning, keep improving, and keep my dedication, I will succeed. I'll someday share my work with readers who enjoy what I write.

If I could name one person who was most influential, I would have to say it was my friend, Natalie. She was my alpha and my beta reader. She kept me going when I might have slacked off. Now, I'm happy to say she's writing a book of her own, too, that I'm excited about. If I could name a close second, I would say that was my friend, Jenny. Her feedback has guided my writing in the right direction, and her support gave me the warm-fuzzies to keep going. She doesn't write, but she truly gets me when it comes to my writing. I never get those 'she's crazy' looks from her when I talk about characters like they're real people.

So I wonder if I've always been a writer. I went without even thinking about it for more than thirteen years, but once I started, it was like a dam bursting. In two years, I've written a lot more than some people write in ten. Was it there all along, lurking under the surface? If we're writers at heart first who write to fulfill a need, maybe it was. If writing makes us writers, well then I guess I wasn't one for half of my life. I believe that ratio will change over time because I don't think I could ever dam it back up again. Writing is the light of my life now, and I wouldn't give it up again for anything.

Thanks for reading about my origins. If you're participating in the blogfest, I'll be visiting a little late-like today because I have to get home from work before I can make the rounds. Thanks again to our wonderful hosts!

Blogfests galore!

Hosted by Writing with Hope & Reading, Writing and Lovin' It

How could I not enter this Valentine's Day blogfest??? I am, after all, a romance writer. So on V-day, my post will cover a kissing scene. If you'd like to participate, post about a scene from a book you've read, a scene from your own WIP, make up a new scene, or write about one of your own memorable kisses. Check out either of the links below the blogfest pic to add your name to the linky list. Let's have some fun and keep in the spirit of Valentine's Day!

I'm also participating on February 13 in the Origins Blogfest hosted by DL Hammons and co-hosted by the most awesome bloggers, Alex J Cavanaugh, Katie Mills at Creepy Query Girl, and Matthew MacNish at the QQQE. This blogfest is about getting to your roots, showing the blogosphere how you began your writing journey. As DL says: Tell us all where your writing dreams began.  It could be anything from how you started making up stories as a child, or writing for the school newspaper, or even what prompted you to start a blog.  How about stories about the first time somebody took an interest in your writing, or the teacher/mentor that helped nudge you along and mold your passion, or maybe the singular moment when you first started calling yourself a writer.  It all started somewhere and we want you to tell us your own, unique, beginnings.
 

Who's game to sign up for either of these? How do you feel about blogfests? Has anyone hosted their own? What is it about a particular blogfest that gets you to participate? If you don't ever participate, what about them dissuades you?

Mmmmmm... lasagna!

A friend just starting on the writer's journey asked me how I deal with character descriptions, and sheesh, that is so not an easy topic to answer in a sentence or two. As I wrote her a mile-long email complete with helpful attachments, I realized I was describing lasagna to her. Yep, I write my own special recipe of literary lasagna, layering backstory with setting with character description with dialogue with conflict with ricotta.

Several times, I've heard writing a book compared to childbirth. I thought, "Wow, it must be so much more painful for men to write a book." I've heard it compared to learning to drive. Eventually it becomes second nature, but maybe after you've totaled an MS or two. How about dentist visits, anyone???

How best describes your writing process? Heard of other analogies I missed? Do you do small layers or do you work in chunks? Personally, I don't start with layers, but it's what I end up with after edits. Now the real reason behind this post: I'm starving!!!

A quick note to Roland Yeomans: If you happen to see this, I tell you I don't read such young protags normally, but now I eagerly (impatiently) await your next installment of The Legend of Victor Standish. Your writing is like a painting to me. I think it's amazing you're donating proceeds this month to Salvation Army, but I still kinda wanna smack you in the cliffhanger. Please take that as a compliment. You have me happily hanging here :)

A critter crisis...

ningmilo / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Ok, well, it's not that bad. I'm pretty decent at self-editing and only getting better workshop by workshop. But we all hit that point where our manuscripts need fresh sets of eyes and minds.

A critique group is a great thing. It’s a fantastic way to get outside eyes on your manuscript and help you polish your work. You can find areas of weakness and mistakes you might not have seen on your own. You learn how to better critique others’ work. You have a ready-made support group to identify with the trials you go through as a writer.

Despite the benefits, I’ve decided to opt out. If I’d found a good for me group, I might feel different. I’ve tried several, giving each plenty of time and taking my feedback with a grain of salt. Still I choose to opt out. I didn’t get bad feedback (mostly—someone did tell me not to use fragments in dialogue and another said no contractions in writing ever). No one offended me. The fact is when I submitted, I received a virtually clean copy back. I got a few suggestions, some of it positive feedback. While that’s great for my ego, it does nothing to polish my writing.

I ran into two basic problems. First, I was at a different writing level than most members. Second, the other writers didn’t write or read my genre. So what now? The image of the solitary writer makes me laugh. IMHO, it takes a village to produce a great book.

I tried out Writer’s Digest Community, but ran into problematic feedback from writers outside of the romance genre. Plus not enough writers use the site so the crits are few. I registered for Critique Circle but haven’t used it yet. Anyone tried it? If so, how was it? Pros? Cons? I dabbled with Book Country, but I have to admit it made me nervous. You don’t have to be a registered user to view large portions of an author’s posted work. Would a publisher have a problem with so much of your unedited manuscript openly displayed to the public? And if you had some pretty original concepts, aren’t you then wide-open to giving them to other writers?

I have a few beta readers who aren’t writers but read romance, and aren't afraid to tell me when something's jacked up. For my first manuscript, I had one fantastic critter, Sondrae Bennett, who was amazing at helping me shape up my writing skills. If I had two or three critters as skilled, I’d be set.

Where have you found your outside eyes? Tried any critique sites? Have a critique group story, good, bad or ugly? How do you feel about publishers building their own critique sites, like Book Country? Who else is game to try it out?

Breaking it down

        I noticed recently I tend to write fairly short chapters compared to other writers, and it crossed my mind there may be one of those famous "rules" regarding chapter length so I poked around the web.  Apparently there are no rules.  Wow.  Imagine that.  We actually have some freedom in deciding where to break our story into delicious bite-sized bits!

        Some people write their entire story straight through before they even think about breaking out the chapters.  Others use chapters to create a rhythm in the story, to control the pace.  Some authors use chapters to separate POV shifts.  There are writers who set their chapter breaks so they don't exceed a maximum number of pages or maximum reading time.  Personally, my scene shifts are my chapter breaks, and I always end my chapter with some sort of hook, like a mini-story.  I have twenty chapters in my 87,000 word manuscript.

        Where do you put your chapter breaks?  Do you set them while you're writing or afterward?  Is there such a thing as too short or too long when it comes to chapter length?  Do you prefer titled chapters or numbered?

Don't forget to enter my Mad Lib Contest.  Email or comment with your words for the Mad Lib any time today.
      

It's like running...

Today I feel like a runner hitting "the wall."  All I can say is it hurts a lot right in the center where my heart should be.  I was strong.  It took a while to hit it.  It wasn't even over a query.  It was over reaching out when you're nervous about it and then getting your hand slapped.  The worst thing is it's my own fault for not paying attention to detail.  And that is all I'll say about it.

What picked me up a bit afterward was a very incredibly timely and thoughtful blogger award from http://jc-martin.com/fighterwriter/.  She sent me the Versatile Blogger Award.  Much appreciated, JC!

Rules:

1. Thank the person who sent the award and link back

2. Post the award on your blog

3. Nominate 15 other bloggers to pass the luv

4. Let nominees know you awarded them

I had a hard time picking bloggers for this list.  There are soooo many great people here, but I tried to choose those who I think haven't received this award before.  In no particular order:

1.   Brad Jaeger - Aspiring Author
2.   Damyanti @ Writing on writing : Amlokiblogs
3.   http://thewritejunkie.blogspot.com/
4.   Ellie Garratt
5.   http://wheelisonfire.blogspot.com/
6.   http://nicoleducleroir.blogspot.com/
7.   http://ishtamercurio.blogspot.com/
8.   Justine Dell
9.   http://gardenfulloflily.blogspot.com/
10. http://dlcurran.blogspot.com/
11. http://mylifeismybliss.blogspot.com/
12. http://www.apeekatkarensworld.com/
13. http://fromelysium.blogspot.com/
14. http://courtlyromance.blogspot.com/
15. http://maybegenius.blogspot.com/

And don't forget The Blogfeast is TOMORROW!  I can't wait to see your posts.  If you haven't signed up yet... well, why haven't you???  Or you can swing by here tomorrow anyway and check out all the awesome bloggers and their appetite-stimulating (or appetite-supressing, mwahahaha) posts tomorrow.

PS-About the wall... yeah, I know I'm supposed to keep running through it, and I suppose I will.

Minus the Bitchassedness...

I’ve traveled an incredibly long learning curve over the past few months, and what’s helped me the most along the way has been—hands down—the bloggers I follow.  It doesn’t matter to me if they’re unpublished or have no agent yet or already have books out or deals made.  Even teachers can still be students and vice versa.

This business of getting published is pretty darn tough so to me being unpublished alone says nothing about the writing, although I love to see writers I follow get their agent or their book deal.  What counts to me most though is the step up you offer freely to your fellow writers with no signs of backstabby bitchassedness to be found (in public anyway, lol).  I’ve improved my writing incredibly because of what you guys give.

What I’ve personally improved on the most:

 Deeper POV.  I now remove the fat from my sentences to make the action more immediate.  For example:

Okay: She saw him walk through the door.

Better: He walked through the door.

Fewer tags.  I’ve combed through my WIPs to remove all dialogue tags that weren’t necessary.  If it was obvious who was talking, I removed it.  If I thought I needed a tag to identify the speaker, I looked for other ways to ID who it was without using a tag.  I also simplified as much as possible the tags I did need to keep in.  I wanted nothing to distract from the story.

Raise the stakes.  I figured out the plot was too shallow in my first WIP, so I’ve raised the stakes and built a better character arc for my MCs.  If the plot’s too simple, too easy, it leaves to much space for more fat (aka, scenes that don’t advance the plot) in the book.  PS—this takes a lot of work, whew!

 Be careful with the adjectives/adverbs. They certainly aren’t off-limits, but they do need to be used sparingly.  I railed against this at first, but then I figured it out.  If you use a lot, it could be an indication that you’re telling rather than showing, and showing is another way to make action/description more immediate.  For example:

Okay: He walked angrily through the door.

Better: He stormed in, slamming the door on his way.

Don’t navel-gaze.  This can apply to the writing, but I don’t usually have too big a problem with that.  I did learn not to navel-gaze too much when it comes to blogging.  I’m not just blogging for myself.  I like blogging as a way to interact with other writers.  So I try not to be all about my book, my book, my book.

I have to praise the uber-phenomenal Elana J., who was the first blogger I ever followed, before I ever moved to Blogspot to begin with.  She inspired me to completely change my blog, and through her, I found Bethany Wiggins, Suzette Saxton, and LiLa.  These people got me right on the good track with where I should head with my blog.  I’m still really working on it, but I’m getting there.

I haven’t even begun to talk about what I’ve learned about agents, querying, publishing, synopses, pitching, etc., but I’m out of space for now.  What's been most valuable to you?  Does a blogger's advice carry more weight if they're published or agented or does it depend on what the advice is?  How do you feel about offering writerly advice yourself?

Ways to organize (or maybe to waste your time).

     After a crazy weekend of blogfesting my brains out (and no, I’m still not done reading some of the posts), I’m eager to get roaring on my current WIP so I can get around to finishing the biggest edit ever on my first MS.  Yes, I have some great ideas to get myself in a happy place with it.  Finally—whew!!

     My second WIP seems to be in better shape than my first and I think it may be that I actually incorporated a little—and I mean teensie—bit of outlining this time.  The story arc and character arcs are all improved.  Now that I’ve worked out this method of plottsing (or is it pantsotting?  It all sounds weird.), I know how I want to edit my first MS.

     I noticed a few blog posts from writers who were having some trouble finding a system for outlining or organizing their scenes, and though I’m a big fan of the old bullet list, I don’t think anyone else is all that enthusiastic about it.  So I thought I’d look at some creative writing tools to try out.

     I found plenty of programs to choose from.  The most pricey was Dramatica Pro at $200-$220.  From what I read, this software could just about write the story—well, if you can figure out how to use it.  It asks you about a few hundred questions and then maps out the story for you down to the bitty details.  It has just about every feature available in a writing software program including structure templates, brainstorming tools, outlines, reports, conflict, plot and character development tools, and a built-in word processor.  I thought I’d laugh when I read it has no spell check or word count capability.  Sounds like some geeky engineer student oversight to me.

     If you want to save a bit, but still keep most of the features, Power Structure has just about all the same features at $149.95 except it’s reportedly a lot more difficult to use.  It doesn’t come with tutorials so you’re on your own with it.

     If you want to save even more, $29-$99 or so will buy you WriteWay, Power Writer, or StoryWeaver.  These programs give you nearly the same number of features as the other two programs, but for under $100, although the features lean more to the word processing side than to the story development side.  They’re also easier to use for the less experienced writers (like me!) as well.  On the down side, the first two programs don’t work with Mac.  For Mac, Scrivener looks pretty darn good and at such a low price.

     If you’re anything like me and flock to anything that’s free, you could try an open source program.  I’ve found a couple with some good reviews.  Storybook can help with structuring your book with tools to manage chapters, scenes, characters and locations.  It offers several different views of your work and instantly saves data as it’s entered.  You can also export in a variety of formats, txt, pdf, html, rtf, etc.  yWriter is another one developed by a writer and earning positive remarks.  Rough Draft is no longer being updated, but the software is still available for download.  I personally have Celtx, an open source screenwriting program that allows storyboards, etc., but all I ever do with that is play around with it.

     The basic thought behind these programs is that a simple word-processing program is inadequate for longer pieces of fiction and stories with complex plots or characters.  After looking at a bunch of the screenshots, I can see how some of the views might be beneficial, but I’m at my best when working simplistically, often with just a pen and paper.  Maybe I haven’t found the right program for me yet.

     How about you?  Do you have a favorite program you use or do you just prefer a basic word-processing program like Word?  Or is it pen and paper, too?  What’s in your writer’s toolbox?

Change Blogfest is here!

Many thanks to Elizabeth for today's blogfest!  I love blogfests, and it'll be even more fun because this time I get to actually visit everyone's posts this time.  My entry today from my second WIP, The Paladin, takes the change literally.  My MCs, Rainee and Sen, survived a crash and took shelter for the night.  Sen has developed a strong attraction to Rainee and felt urges he didn't know what to do with.  As an alien Kindred born without the ability to bond with a lifemate, he's not supposed to have these feelings, but Rainee indulged them, unable to control her own attraction to him and unaware of the consequences.  Afterward, a frightening transformation began that would end life as he knew it.  This scene occurs a few days after the beginning.

     Sen lay motionless along his bed, but his insides churned. He stared at the ceiling overhead without really seeing. The pain of his transformation had been like nothing he’d ever suffered, but then this pain that followed… Some days he didn’t want to live anymore.

     He’d never known what it was to be alone. There were always the others. Always. Knowing their unity would never be his again hammered at him over and over, his soul caught in the abyss of aching loneliness that walked in his Kindred’s empty footsteps. The uncertainty of what he was becoming, facing it in isolation, sharpened his fear.

     He was no longer Paladin. That much was clear, and it wasn’t just his eyes and his change to full adulthood. He’d thought Rai would be afraid or disgusted when she saw how his eyes had changed. Instead, she’d been surprised and then accepted it just as quickly. If only he could. It set him apart, removed him even further from his Paladin brethren than he already was.

     Stress tightened his stomach into a great burden balled up in the center of him. What the hell was he now? What had he become? He had no Kindred but Gabe, and even Gabe no longer connected with him once the transformation was complete. But Sen understood that. Gabe was an elder of honor and loyal to Kindred decree. He would do what he could to help, the most he could get away with, but he had his limits.

     Time had passed as slowly as Sen’s adjustment to the changes inside of him. His senses and his reflexes had grown more acute. He didn’t know his own strength anymore, and his body radiated a vast energy that didn’t have a place to go. To those around him, his eyes were the easiest to notice, but what changed behind them confused even him.

     None of this would be happening to him if he’d never been dispensed to the humans. Argent knew how he felt about them and sent him anyway. He’d hated them down to the smallest part of his being. And now he had even more reason to. It didn’t matter to him that Rai wasn’t to blame for his transformation after all. If he hadn’t been in Aurora, if he hadn’t been on Team Seven, and if she hadn’t been so… Rai.

     Today she’d prepared for battle and though they hadn’t gone out on a hunt after all, he didn’t let her down. He’d made her cry. She’d been so silent, too. But his senses were even more amplified now, and he heard it in the way she drew each breath. It should have been satisfying. His vengeful nature should have danced with each blow he delivered. It changed nothing.

Poor Sen isn't handling the change very well, and he's taking it out on Rainee.  Hope you enjoyed, even if it's not your genre, and thank you for reading!

Ooooooooooh shiiiiiny!

Ever have one of those days when your concentration flies out the window? Your mind follows every little detour from the path of what-you’re-supposed-to-be-doing-right-now? That’s me. Right now. For the past three hours. Okay, maybe six hours. I’ve accomplished nothing. I’m tired, and I must rise early to work tomorrow. Urgh! It’s tomorrow already.

But I’ve at least read a few blog posts, not as many as I’d hoped to get to, but the best I can expect with this lame monkey internet connection I must use lately. I came across a couple of posts with some suggestions on how to unblock your writing. These were posted by a writing coach whose audience mainly consists of comedians.  Pretty good stuff here:

Hurdle #1: Getting started
Hurdle #3: Making words flow

I also read this post by Jane Friedman on how to be a successful writer. This was both inspiring and discouraging to me somehow. Maybe you can see why after you read it. On one hand, I have these traits she mentions. But then, the 10+ year thing is just damned depressing. I know it’s not entirely accurate, but still… depressing.

While you're here, check out the new awesome blogfests in my sidebar. Blogfests are awesplendeliciously fun and quite addictive. I will some day soon, when I don’t have hamster-wheel driven internet, host a blogfest too. Jury’s still out on what the theme will be. Hmmmm...

I said in my earlier post that I’d be gone all week, which I was, but now I’m saying I’ll be gone another week. We're just in for the weekend. So as before, I’ll do my best to get on the blogs and see how everyone’s doing, but it may take me a while.

Now just briefly, someone please look at this condom site and tell me it’s a joke!

PS - Flags in, Shipmates and Brothers in Arms.  I will not forget.

 

I'm in LOVE...

…with the characters! My favorite reads (and movies and TV shows, for that matter) all have that one big thing in common: remarkable characters. If I develop feelings for your characters, whether it’s love, sympathy, admiration, fear, hate, whatev, I’ll probably have a great time reading your story.

The Let’s Talk Blogfest yesterday got me thinking about the peeps in my novel, about where I found them and where their voices come from. Most of my characters were born from a single trait of the people around me that I work with every day. (They’re some silly characters themselves. Someday I’ll write about them as they are, but for now I borrow tidbits.) But beyond that, the characters take on a life of their own. They speak to me and through my fingertips.

I often talk about them as if they’re living, breathing people. I care about them. I can describe what they’re like as if I’d known them in person. I know their fears and hopes. I sometimes know them better than I know me. Creepy thought, hm? Anyway, when I write, their words pour out from some place I can’t quite identify. Maybe that’s why they don’t really sound like me. Sometimes I’m completely surprised by what they say or do, as if their actions didn’t come from me. Yes, logically I know I wrote all of it, but it often doesn’t feel that way to me.

So am I just nuts (I can live with that, I suppose)? Or is this a writerly thing? Do your characters’ voices take over when you write them? Where do you get your characters from and how well do you know them?

Oh, PS—I must share this news!!! I bit the bullet this morning. Bit it hard. I registered for NaNoWriMo. Yep, my cherry will be gone at the end of November. Who else is brave enough to take on the challenge? Have you done this before? If so, how do you prepare before the big DAY ONE???

Yeah, I know. So many questions today…

My Let's Talk Blogfest Excerpt!

Thank you, Roni @ Fictiongroupie for this fun, awesome blogfest.  Yay!  This is my first blogfest entry, and I can't wait to see the excerpts everyone else posts today.  Everyone should check out the list.  It's huge.  There are over 90 entries.  This 'fest is all about the dialogue...

Here's my clip.  Setup: My MC, Emma, speaks to her close friends after she learns that Gabriel (our Hero) is irreversibly bonded to her.


“That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard,” Vi mused. “Makes sense why he didn't want to tell anyone. He was protecting you, if you ask me.”

“I'm not asking you,” Emma huffed. Violet raised both eyebrows in feigned surprise.

“Could have fooled me. Have you talked to Daniel about this yet?”

“Are you kidding? Gabriel's his golden child lately. It would crush him.”

“Well, Gabe suffering in silence until he dies in front of us won't sit too well with him either.”

“What am I supposed to do? Should I give up my life for his life?”

“You know that's not what I'm saying, Em,” Vi snapped, “but maybe we can find some other solution. Dan can do some research...” Both lost in thought, silence stretched between the two.

“I'm terrified of him, Vi.”

“Oh, really? Is that what you tell yourself?”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked as Dave entered the suite he shared with Vi.

“What up, people?” he asked jovially. His smile died as he encountered their sober faces.

“I mean, Emelia,” Vi said sternly, “that there's more between you and Gabe than plain ol' fear."

“Oh, yeah,” Dave agreed. “When you're in the room, he's like a super magnet. You can't keep your eyes off him. Anyone who knows you well can see that. Well, except Dan 'cause he's Dan and only sees you as his little girl.”

“Well, that's ridiculous,” Em said, her voice rising.

“Uh-uh,” Vi shook her head. “If you feel fear, it's not fear of him, Baby Girl.”

“Yep. I'm pretty sure you can slap him around and call him Brenda, and all he'd do is look at you with goo-goo eyes,” Dave laughed.

Emma grunted at him. “Sometimes you are so dumb!”

“Well, enlighten me, then. What's all this about you and Gabe?”

“Oh, Lord! Do I have to go through all this again?”

“No. If you go talk to Dan, I'll catch up the curly-haired midget.”

“Hey now!” Dave scowled. Violet shot him a look so loving it could melt snow. He smiled at her. Emma felt a familiar jab of envy.

“Alright, I'll try to talk to Granddad. That's all I'm promising.”

“Don't give him a heart attack. Be gentle,” Dave quipped.

“And Em, Gabe's a very, very good friend, not just to me, but to all of the team. Yes, even Ray now,” Vi said earnestly, then added softly. “We can't let him die. He's given us too much, saved our happy asses too many times, and he did it all even when we were so cruel to him. In some crazy way, after what you've told me, I suppose he did all this for you.”

Emma left the suite with her head spinning. She could tell her grandfather about the true situation, but he'd be hurt to know either Gabriel would die or his precious Emelia would suffer for him to live. He couldn't even stand for her to associate with the Aegis, as much they meant to him, preferring nice boys for her to date. She honestly didn't know how she could get up the nerve to discuss it with him anyway. It had taken her three days to work up to Vi and Dave. In the meantime, she'd steered clear of any place she could run into Gabriel.

Bite of the Week: The Lure

*Quick note:  I was planning on posting a battle scene next, but my BFF (one of my Alpha readers) requested a scene with romantic tension, but not a love scene.  So Tori, here's a lil' tension (at least I hope it's what you meant :)) for you.

“Where were you?” she whispered, trying not to disturb the self-absorbed creatures by the cliff.  He gestured with his head, her eyes following, to the top of the craggy peak.

“Wait here,” he commanded coldly.  Wide-eyed, she grabbed his arm as he started to rise.

“Don't leave me!”

“I won't,” he said, not looking at her.  When her grip tightened, he turned back to her.  “I'm not going anywhere, Emma.  I'm coming right back. You can let go.”  She released him and watched him stride away to collect his sword and strap it back onto his shoulders.  He walked down the line of Kindred, placing his hand on each one's shoulder for just a moment.  They didn't appear to acknowledge him.

When Gabriel returned, he knelt next to her, removing her armor, and touched her right shoulder.  She jerked away in pain, her cry echoing off the cliff.  It had to be broken.  She couldn't move or lift it at all, as if it belonged to someone else.

Gabriel's hands framed her small face.  “I can help you with this.”  She nodded.  He pulled up his sleeve and offered her his forearm.

“What are you doing?”

“Take what you need.  I'll tell you when it's enough.”

“You want me to--no, I can't.”

“You can or you'll suffer the break until it heals at your pace.”

“Then, I suppose I'll suffer,” she said stubbornly.

“Have it your way.”  He lifted her swiftly and easily into his arms, heading back across the clearing.  She yelled out again.  “Keep quiet unless you want a horde of Kindred all over us tonight,” he said, his voice flinty.

“You stop hurting me then,” she said, pinching his arm with her working hand.  Gabriel looked down at the indignant expression she used to mask her agony.  He just grunted at her.  His eyes went back to scanning the brush for hazards as he amazingly made the thirty minute trip in fifteen.  Each bump, dip, and rise had Emma clenching her teeth.  Her face was damp with sweat and silent tears by the time he stopped to put her down on the grass next to the little shuttle, hitting the code for the door to open and cast light on them.

He stood next to her until she looked up.  Crouching by her again and catching her eyes, he brought his wrist to his lips and bit his fangs into it, slicing the skin open.  His blood flowing freely from the wound, he pushed it toward her lips.  Emma turned her head away, her stomach slightly nauseous at the sight.

“Emma, you have to hurry.  It's closing.”  Sure enough, the wound was beginning to seal.  He put his left hand at the back of her head and pressed his wrist to her lips.  She reluctantly parted them.  At first, she fought a wave of revulsion, but then a strange tickling flowed through her.  It felt vivid, vigorous, and her pain began to ease little by little.  She didn't even taste the blood except for that first moment.  As soon as the blood stopped flowing, the wound completely sealed once more, the strange feeling went away.

“What was that?” she asked quietly.

“I told you we can help each other.”

“Does it work with others?”

“No.”

“It still hurts a little, and I can barely move it.”

“It'll pass in a minute.”

“I came to find you, Gabriel.”

“Obviously,” he said flatly.

“You didn't tell me you were leaving,” she accused.

“You wanted me to go.”

“Did I?” she said, her eyebrow arched.  “And you know this because...”

“There's nothing you can do for me.  You've already said as much.  Why would I go back?  No amount of poking and prodding will change the way things are.  I am what I am, Emma, and I'm all wrong.”

“But--”

“I know you're trying to find a way to stop this,” he interrupted, “but your guilt is killing me.  Just let me go.”

“No, I won't,” she said.  “I can’t, Gabe.  I'm not ready to.  I need more time.”

“That's one thing I don't have the power to give you.”  She started to argue, but he held up his hand.  “Stop.  Just stop.  You don't know what you're doing to me right now,” he said, his voice rough.

“Gabe...”

He shook his head, and rose to his feet.  “You should go.”

Emma scowled.  She didn't come all this way, hijacking the Zenith and facing deadly Kindred, just to have him reject her.  He looked down at her and shook his head again.

“You don't like to be told 'no' do you?” he asked.  “Daniel spoils you too much.  Mule-headed.”

Emma stood up, knowing this was her last chance to get him to come back with her.  She stepped close to him, looking up into his face, and curved her arms around his waist, pulling him close against her.  Biting her lip, she watched his eyes darken, heard his breath quicken.

“Emma,” he said thickly, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, sliding her arms up his chest to his shoulders.

“Don't,” he mumbled, half-hearted.  She pushed up on her toes to press her lips uncertainly against his throat.

Oh, To Want What You Don't Want

I am not a social creature.  Don’t get me wrong.  I know a lot of people, and these people actually like me, but butterfly I am not (that’s you, Iyanna).

I bring this up because first I read Elana’s post the other day.  I’m still amazed at her ability to take those bleh feelings and turn them into some positive encouragement.

I’d definitely been reading a lot of blogs lately addressing the hard work and dedication and love of the craft of writing involved in making it into a career.  It seems most writers have gone through those questioning moments of self-doubt.

Then I read this post today on Candyland’s blog.  It’s true we write for ourselves first before others, and I’m glad to be reminded of it.  I also read several posts on success stories, including this post announcing Frankie Diane Mallis’ signing with an agent.

The combination of all these posts beset me with some strange, mixed up feelings, and it was suddenly clear to me that I am a little terrified.

Yes, I worry a bit that I won’t get an agent, won’t get published, and won’t get good reviews, but I just began my journey.  I have time.  I was surprised, however, at my gut-wrenching reaction to the idea of getting what I want.

What if I got an agent?  What if I get published?  What if I was successful?  Then what?  People will see me.  There will be expectations to meet, obligations and responsibilities beyond what I’ve experienced, and that’s where my self-doubt lies.

I would love to offer a tidbit of encouragement, but as I haven’t yet achieved that level of wild success, I suppose I will just have to learn about what happens next in the steps to publication.  That way my fear will be battled, slain and finally put to rest by the time I eventually get there.

Anyone have tips for conquering the fear of success?  Any insights on why someone would be afraid in the first place?

Bite of the Week: The Captive

“So this is what we've been fighting all this time,” she sighed.  “He just looks like a man.  Men can be reasoned with sometimes.  Not you, of course.”  She tossed him a sly look.

“Appearances are on the surface, my dear.  He's very different from us.  Very deadly to us.  It's important to remember that when you deal with him, especially now.  I am hopeful, though, we may yet keep him alive long enough to reason with him.”

“How long before he wakes up again?”

“Should be another two hours or so.”

“So I'll be okay in here by myself for a little while.  Long enough for you to get his labs?”

“Emelia, you promised.”

“I know.  Just asking.”  He let out an exaggerated sigh and finally nodded, sending a mock salute as he left the room.  She turned back, looking again at the vamp's tattoos, wondering if they had some meaning or if they were just body art.  Perhaps he was different from the other vamps because they have different classes of people or like human men and women were different.  Still they'd encountered the same results with autopsies of the females, all black-eyed, single-heart, etc.

“Gabriel,” she whispered, trying out his name.  His eyes opened at the soft sound.  Emma's feet rooted to the ground.  She wanted to back away, but her body wouldn't obey, her heart a hummingbird beating against her chest.

Several moments passed before Emma finally took a deep, unsteady breath and saw he just studied her curiously with those silver eyes, no growls or snarls, no bared fangs.

“You can't hurt me right now,” she said more to reassure herself.  “You're strapped to this table, so you can't hurt me again.”

His gaze roamed over her, lingering over her full rosy lips, deep emerald eyes and heart-shaped face.  He said nothing.

“Can you understand me?”  No response.  “Do you know where you are?”

She saw no fear, not even a little.  The irony struck her that she'd been so terrified of him earlier when he was the one kidnapped, maliciously wounded and strapped on a table in an empty white chamber to be drugged and stabbed with needles and waking to a strange woman staring at him.  Something about the situation pulled at her in an odd way

Sunny Side Up Today

Whew!  What a crazy last couple of weeks it’s been, thus why I’ve been blogone lately.  I’ve decided early this morning that the mood of the day shall be “optimistic.”  Why?  Because I need a little of it to keep my sanity!  And truly, if I don’t make myself look at the bright side every once in a while, I’ll spiral down into a deep pit in which I only write horror where the good guys all die at the end and the demons inherit the earth.

First on my optimism agenda, I had to address my job.  It’s only natural considering I live where I work.  I have to admit it can be pretty awesome.  Just check out the pic.  We shot over 220 rounds from our 5” gun the week we went out to sea.  Makes me proud--*tear* love you Combat Systems/Weps!  You’ll have to check out my Facebook photos for last year’s missile shoot, and any true patriot will have even the hairs at the nape of their neck saluting at that sight.  Sometimes I’m so busy complaining, I forget to remember I could never have lasted thirteen years of this without being strongly patriotic. ‘Nuff said here.

Next, my home-purchasing endeavors are beginning to pay off.  Didn't get the house we first offered on, but the second was a winner.  I am more than happy to run with it as I realized last week that it had been my #1 pick from the listings my husband sent me.  Now, if only I could actually see the home before I buy it...  Nope, not likely.  But I did see lots of great pics--5brm/3ba with a tree swing, playhouse, garden area, fire pit.  Yep, definitely something to be optimistic about.

Lately I’ve been reading a lot of blog posts about perseverance and optimism when it comes to writing, and I’m really glad I’ve come across these posts because trying to become a published author is a somewhat discouraging business by nature.  The authors write from a personal place and therefore take rejection personally at times.  I really needed to see how much work is involved in crafting and marketing a worthy piece of literature.

And after much research, I’ve also concluded that agents, editors and publishers are not truly evil, but are actually on our side.  They are the buffer between the writers and the cold, hard truth of economics and technology.  They do the best they can with the resources they have.  And in return, we’ll spill our blood and guts to write as close to perfection as a writer can call it (since we all know we’re never done with our work).  Maybe, just maybe, if I learn all this at the front end, it won’t take me three years to get an agent, and that, my friends, is optimism!

So I’ve shared what I’m optimistic about.  Now, where has the optimism bug bitten you?

Infected!

Vile, slimy, foul, despicable, nasty little bugs!  And I’m currently in good health, so I’m not referring to the kind you sneeze out or cough up.  It’s those pervasive, invasive computer bugs, the Trojans, worms, keyloggers, malware or whatever euphemism you can come up with for what they really are: pure evil.

Two days of my life have wasted away as I cried over my keyboard (friends would say ‘cussed’ over my keyboard) while vigorously scrubbing my laptop.  I’ve mostly got my baby clean, but there’s still this one crazy Trojan that keeps reinstalling itself.  Well, the Navy sent me through Information Systems Maintenance school for a reason, but to be honest, that was eight years ago, and I barely remember Unix and A+ from it, much less anything else.  I’ll solve this the way I solve all of my other problems: Google.

Okay, rant over.  Not to change subjects, but I’m changing the subject.  I am blown away by all these blogolicious contests offered by all you phenomenal bloggers out there:

Anna Staniszewski, YA author represented by Ammi-Joan Paquette at the Erin Murphy Literary Agency, is having a 100 followers contest, offering two soon-to-be-released books.  Click quick.  The deadline is April 22.

Sarah Wylie just published her book, All These Lives, and she's giving away some amazing prizes for aspiring authors: lunch with agent-extraordinaires Janet Reid and Suzie Townsend, a query critique, a partial manuscript critique, or a writer's survival package.  Click here to beat the April 25 deadline.

Linda Sandifer is giving away an autographed copy of her latest novel, The Last Rodeo, and a box of chocolates in honor of Mother's Day.  You'll need a hankie when you read about her impressions of her mother.  She'll pick a winner who clicked here by May 2.

Stephanie Boman just signed with Alyssa Reubin of Paradigm Talent Agency and wants to celebrate by giving away a creepy pendant made by an Etsy artist (Ebay for handcrafting artists, if this is new to you).  Just comment here about something that creeps you out.

And one of my personal favs, a revolving contest, is Miss Snark’s First Victim Secret Agent Contest.  This is a monthly contest, but you need to be quick on the draw to get your submission in.  Entries are judged by a panel which includes a mystery agent.

Whew!  Lots more out there, but I need to sleep eventually.  Uber-giant thank you to Bethany Wiggins for awarding me a Blogger BFF Award.  I’m psyched about it because I love her blog.  The Shooting Stars blog and Elana Johnson’s blog were the first blogs I ever followed, and I still always go there first.
Geez, I got a lil link-happy tonight.  Before I go, I’m a bit curious about how people choose their prizes.

What's the weirdest prize you’ve ever seen offered or that you’ve ever offered in a contest?

Found Me Some Peeps

...and I'm not talking Easter Peeps! Where do you go to find a crew that will have your back? I was struggling with this question for several days and tried a couple of options. In particular, I needed to find writing buddies.
I joined some online discussion groups. This didn't seem like such a bad idea at first, and some blogs recommended finding critique groups this way. Uh-uh. This isn't for me I figured out quickly. A critique does no good if it's coming from writers who aren't on your level or readers who don't give specific enough feedback.

Blogs will give you some really fantastic advice, but they won't read your writing, slap you when it's bad, encourage you when it's good, motivate you when you slump, and guide you when you're lost.
When I finally found a group, it was where I should've looked first. I've been using a site for the last two years with phenomenal success,  a social networking site that specializes in face-to-face contact. I finally searched for writers on Meetup and found a group that sounded right for me. Jackpot!

My first meeting was more than I could have hoped for. The group reviewed each other's work, offered specific and constructive feedback, offered encouragement, and had no problem covering any genre, including poetry and screenwriting. I got nothing but warm fuzzies about all the group members. Yes, I'm pretty sure I found me some peeps. I'm excited now to submit some of my own work to see what I can do to improve.

I wish everyone luck with finding their own peeps. Maybe you'll have a better experience with online groups, but the face time suits me well. What have you done to find your own support and encouragement?

PS, we met at All American Grill in San Diego, and I had the Salinas salad – Yum!  Highly recommended.

Just Fun For Now

Ah, the sting of rejection riding on the coattails of hope!  So far, my first query resulted in a form rejection, second query resulted in request for partial followed by a form rejection, and queries three through five are still out to sea with the agents.  Well, that’s okay.  I’m bracing myself, doing my research, and settling in for the long haul.

I could get dejected, but I’m not.  I have a job, a family, a life, and a love of writing.  So I’ll keep writing.  I started in the first place because my friends wanted the story and now I’ll continue because they want more and so do I.  I love that feeling of a story unfolding where there wasn’t one before.  I can do this just for fun, for the love of it.

In the meantime, I’m working on the next project, while still working on ways to make the first one better.  Along these lines, I’m having difficulty getting useful feedback on my manuscript.  My friends are great, and they help me gauge whether I’ve got a great story, but they’re not writers.  My husband’s a writer, but doesn’t read or write in my genre, although he’s encouraged me and helped me considerably with it.  I considered joining associations or attending conferences and workshops, but I don’t really have the resources to invest.

Any writers out there have any suggestions?  Where have you turned to get input on your manuscript?