Characterization

Step one of characterization should really be done before revision, hell before writing the damn thing, but a few simple questions can help you decide if you successfully portrayed your character.

Step one is: Know your characters. Pretty straight forward, yes?

Yes, but how WELL you know your characters is the kicker.

You know their name (how about last name?) You know generally what they look like. You may even know their background. But what about the rest?

What do they want in life? I find this the hardest of all the questions, because frankly, it’s the hardest for me personally to answer. Essentially all character driven plots come down to this question: What do they want? They want to get a degree—or get the girl. They want to win the science fair, solve the crime, get a nose job, lose weight, make someone’s life miserable, seek vengeance, learn to sew a quilt, save a life, invent something, win the lottery, get a job, find the perfect pair of shoes, end war, or they just want to be happy.

What or whom is stopping them from getting it? Therein lays your conflict.

Another tricky question: What is the character’s motivation? In real life this isn’t always obvious, but in fiction it should be fairly clear. What they want can motivate them, or a tragic death in their past can motivate them, perhaps something from their childhood? They never had anything growing up, and the desire to own stuff motivates them—perhaps your character is an OCD collector. Or maybe they are just greedy. Or they need to support their family. What makes them do what they do?

If these questions are hard to answer, you may not know your character well enough, or perhaps they haven’t traveled far enough on their journey for you to recognize these answers. That’s okay. Take a look at your plot. What do your characters have to do with the plot? What is their role in it? You may find some answers there. If not, well then you found a big hole in your story and need to fix it. Don’t fret. Finding problems is good, it’s wonderful, great. Problems should be celebrated. They make us better writers. If we can identify what is wrong with the story, then we can make it better, and avoid these same problems in the future. I’ve also found that identifying these problems in writing and fixing them can relate back to real life. Perhaps you as the writer are having the same difficulties as your character. Then your writing is doubling as therapy. Woohoo! Embrace the emotions and the ride the wave, it’ll only make you,you’re your writing stronger.

If you find that you can answer these questions right away, you are on the right track. But do you still feel a little something still missing from your character? It could be their personality.

Answer these questions to help flesh out your characters:
What kind of clothes do they wear?
What is their job?
Level of education?
How is their home decorated?
What kind of music do they like?
What are their pet peeves?
Any idiosyncrasies? Facial tick? Nervous habit? Bite their nails?
Favorite word or phrase? Dy-No Mite!
As a child, what did they want to be when they “grow up?”
What are their friends like?
Political stance?
How do they respond to stressful situations?
How do they argue with someone?
Are the logical?
Over emotional?
Do they get defensive?

Knowing all of these things about your characters makes writing your story that much easier.

YA Fantasy Thoughts and Recommendations

I've been a bad girl.

I haven't written much since I met my goal for NaNo. How bad am I!

And since I haven't been writing, I've been reading. My new fascination, which isn't really new at all but whatever, is YA or Young Adult Fantasy, more specifically, Urban Fantasy. I've been reading Richelle Mead's Vampire Academy, Liza Conrad's High School Bites, Ellen Schreiber's Vampire Kisses and Amelia Atwater Rhodes.

I tend to read YA fantasy during this time of year. YA has an innocence and a sense of wonder to it that really comes to life for me in the Christmas season.

I love Christmas. The snow, the twinkling lights, the songs, the really good cookies... I love it all. Of course nothing I listed specifically has to do with Christmas being the birth of Christ, but I guess I am shallow and a victim of commercialism that way.

Regardless, I find myself at this time of year yearning for a sense of wonder, of awe... I need to find the magic in life. Perhaps Christmas movies inundate me that this is the most wonderful time of the year and that a special kind of magic is needed, but no matter how I ended up this way it doesn't matter. The fact remains that I simply am this way. I love Christmas and I seek stories full of wonder and magic.

I've found the innocence of YA fantasy awes me the most. I've been a teenager. So I can relate to the characters (hell I still feel like I'm 15 half the time, but when I really think about it, I realize I am nothing like I was when I was 15. Oh to know back then what I do now... *wistful sigh*)

There is a special kind of sense of immortality and pure emotion to a teenager. This lends itself very well to fantasy. Teens aren't held back by their experiences in life. They, for the most part, don't shove their emotions under a shell to deal with the real world. Their world is full of relationships and learning how to operate in life. These are the core issues of a good fantasy novel--figuring it all out and the interpersonal relationships along the way.

The teenage years are magical, because so much seems possible. We dare to dream, to reach for the stars, to wonder about what exists in the world. We form our ideals and cement who will we be in the future. For us older folks (I'm only 27 but it applies none the less) a lot of our ideals and outlooks on life have been cemented. And only with a jack hammer and serious destruction can those outlooks be changed... But a teenager's mind... it's like wonderfully colorful sparkly playdough in every shape and size and capable of making anything you could possibly dream up.

So this is why I love YA fantasy.

Some YA Fantasy I love...

Best Young Adult Fantasy Books and Authors:

Richelle Mead's The Vampire Academy: Mead doesn't talk down to teenager about sex and drugs--It's refreshingly real for a vampiric world.

Ellen Schreiber's Vampire Kisses series: Raven, the heroine, is brave and true to herself. What more could a reader ask for? Oh hot guys? Well there's them too.

Melanie Gideon's The Map That Breathed: A brilliant world so colorful I want to wallow in it and never leave. I hope, I pray, I cry to the heavens that there will be more books in this world.

JK Rowling's Harry Potter series: This is probably a no brainer for most people, but I love these books. I love the personal growth Rowling forces her characters to undergo. Kudos to you JK!

Terry Pratchett's Bromeliad Trilogy: These books are on par with Animal Farm in my book. A great wayto show the nature of human beings on a "small" scale.

Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series: A clever young irish man who is as wicked as he is smart. Fun read with a fresh twist on legendary fantasy creatures.

Bruce Coville's Unicorn Chronicles: A prolific author of all things YA, Bruce Coville excelled with the majesty of the Unicorn Chronicles.

Diane Duane's Young Wizards series: Pre Harry Potter, these wizards are strongest at a young age and have to save not only their own world on a regular basis, but others as well. Deep Wizardy is my favorite.

Stephenie Meyer's Bella series: Bella is in love with a vampire and befriends a newly turned werewolf. Sounds blase based on that, but the emotionality in which these are written is incredible. I find myself in Bella's place and torn between worlds as much as she is. I love both of them so much, how could I ever choose between vampires and werewolves?

Have I forgotten any really good ones? Want to tell me about a series I possibly haven't read yet? Comment here or email me at sandra@sandratuttle.com

The end of NaNoWriMo

November has ended and as much as I'd liked to say Deja Vu, book 2 of the Just Sam series, has as well, that'd be a lie. While I did make my goal of 50k words for the month of November, I am still not finished with book 2. So far my total word count is up to 123k words and I know I have a TON of editing to do on this book, and as I look back on Inevitable, book 1, as well. December will be a busy month for me.

The writing frenzy I had in November was a good thing for me as a writer. The mania that my main character, Samantha, forced me into in order to write so much so fast caused me some emotional turmoil, as I went through everything she did and as any good writer knows, you have to put your characters through the paces. But it really helped me through the writing process, both in seeing my strengths and realizing what areas I need to boost in order to make my writing that much better. My characters and my story wouldn't let me go.

I loved the NaNo experience and look forward to participating next year. I don't think I will be finishing a whole novel in a month but the energy and mass goal really helped to spur me on in my own endeavors.

Personally November and the past few months have been difficult. I'm finding myself to be frustrated by the economy and my lack of employment. I focused on my writing and that definitely helped with my confidence level, but I also fear I will find myself very disappointed when I do get hired on and can't write as much as I do now. We all have to stumble along the uneven path before publication and pay our dues I suppose, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. I just want to write for a living. That is my goal. I want to be able to live on what I make from writing. I haven't always had a goal in life, so setting this one is good.

I have something to work toward now. Anything that happens on my path to my goal will simply be a stepping stone. If I have to take a job I don't want, big deal, it isn't the end of the world. I won't be stuck in a dead end job forever. I have my writing. All of these pitfalls will simply be the next stone on the way to my goal. Every stone I step on, every stair to get to the top, will simply strengthen my muscles, both physically and mentally. In the end I will be stronger and more prepared for what lies ahead.

NaNoWriMo

I know I said I'd go through my revision checklist, and I will--have no fear. Characterization is up next and I've already started it, but I decided to do something else for the month of November.

I started book 2 of my series last September and between editing book 1, going through the separation/divorce process and moving the book has been pushed to the back burner.

Well no more! I joined NaNoWriMo www.nanowrimo.org or National Novel Writers Month, in order to help me finish book 2. The premise is to write a novel in a month. I've already started mine so I'm not following the rules exactly but I'm only counting words that I've written in November. As of day twelve I am over half way to my goal of 50,000 words and doing great. (I have only 100k words total) So since I'm averaging 2k words a day, I haven't had time to blog. My apologies there but I will be back in December, hopefully with two books under my belt.

Check out my profile: drop me a line, add me as a friend--do whatever. http://www.nanowrimo.org/user/235270

Theme

Themes in fiction are something that tend to happen all by themselves. Theme in fiction isn’t the moral of the story; it is more like an outlook on life, or on the interaction of people, of culture.

The author may not be aware they are constructing a theme. The author’s preconceived ideas with how characters interact with each other and their environment add to theme. The choice of the hero’s background and outlook on life, of the challenges s/he faces, all add to theme. Usually, theme is something best identified after a story has already been written.

The theme of Inevitable is: No man is an island.

To me, theme is the lasting impression you want your book to have on the reader. My main character Samantha, is quite stubborn and determined to do things on her own, but no man is an island. We all need people from time to time.

Personally, I love strong heroines and read paranormal books fanatically, but the overly strong heroines refusing any help, and successfully defeating the bad guys on her own strikes me as a bit unrealistic. Granted, we're dealing with paranormal books, but the best fantasy incorporates reality to make it believable. I wanted to tell a story where the heroine is strong, but still needs others to help her on her path, whether she wants them to or not, she needs them. Part of her journey is learning to trust people. We all need people and some of the strongest people in the world know that. A true leader surrounds him or herself with people who are strong where they are weak. I wanted to show this in my book--that a hero can be strong and still have help. That is where the theme of Inevitable came from.

A few links to help you identify the theme in your work.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theme_%28literature%29

http://homeworktips.about.com/od/writingabookreport/a/theme.htm?once=true

http://www.learner.org/interactives/literature/read/theme1.html

Revision Check List

Revising a manuscript can be a painful process. The writer puts their heart and soul into this piece and then has to tear down its walls and see what parts of their soul don't fit with the others. Revising is like the worst SAT test problem known to man.

The revision process is a necessary evil. It is the cooking down process that boils away the water and leaves a full bodied flavor behind--one that lingers on the palette.

But I'm not here to argue the benefits of revision. I'm here to break down the process into manageable bits by making a list.

WARNING: Do not start revision until you are done writing the piece. Revising while still writing will only lead to heartache and loss of quality time. Get your story out. Don't worry about rules, just write your story. You can always go back and fix it later, but you can't fix what you don't have. Write it, put it away and a few days/weeks/months later take it out and see what you can do to make it the best it can be.

There are a few ways of starting the revision process. For me, a person more creatively bent than structural, I start with theme and characterization. Others may start with plot, or even grammar, but I suggest editing grammar last.

Things to think about while revising:
1. Theme
2. Characterization
3. Plot/Structure/Pacing
4. Setting
5. Voice/Tone
6. Tricks of the trade: What to avoid
7. Writing Craft/Grammar

For the next few days/weeks I will touch upon each of these elements, so keep checking back for updates!

The Cheerleader of Doom has her own blog!

My Bff and personal cheerleader, the Cheerleader of Doom has taken Team Doom to the next level.

She's started a wonderful blog here on blogger, The Deadly Doom Digest. I recently interviewed my favorite SF Romance author Linnea Sinclair for the CoD's blog.

To check it out click here:



Make sure you drop her a line and tell her what an awesome job she's doing!

Synopsis writing...

I wish I could tell my readers, many of whom are writers, that synopsis writing is easy, but frankly it isn't. It could possibly be one of the most frustrating endeavors you undertake. There is an emotional element to writing a synopsis. And here I'm talking about a synopsis that is written after the book is complete, not a play by play to help you remember where you are in the plot.

Writing a synopsis is emotional because you have to deem some parts/characters of your book more important than others--it's on par with choosing which one of your children you love more. Not an easy feat.

For me, synopsis writing started out of desperation. I was a new writer with an unfinished manuscript eager to enter a contest with my first chapter, as contest winners get published. But, I had to have a 5 page synopsis to go along with my entry. I puked out the synopsis after a few tries and ended up writing it first person (just like my book) I found it easier to write the synopsis the same way I wrote the book. The manuscript wasn't finished, so the end of my synopsis was very general.

A few months later as I finished the book and was ready to undertake the editing process. I sat down and tried to write the synopsis. I found I just couldn't do it. Nothing felt right, nothing was fresh--I just flat out wasn't into it. In a moment of divine inspiration, I went to my old computer and fished out the old synopsis. The energy level was good, it still felt fresh. I had to tweak a few more things but then I had a working synopsis.

Except of course that it should be written in third person present tense. I went through and changed all of the tenses and all the I's and my's to her, she or Sam. Done right?

Not quite. I had to cut characters and scenes to tighten up the flow of the story. Not good. Not Easy and a damned near annoying process.

Hints? Tips? Suggestions?

First let me say that the synopsis process could be a bit more difficult for us fantasy, paranormal, sci fi writers. Why? Because we write about things that not everyone will understand. But there is a benefit in all that--it's easy to find readers who aren't familiar with your genre. This is key, find readers who know nothing about your book, your genre and aren't afraid to tell you what they think. Show them the synopsis and ask if it makes sense. Have them point out parts that don't seem to go, or that they don't understand.

Then please please please take these considerations to heart. Really Really Really think about them. Get into an emotional place where you care about your book, but where you care about its end result. This is tough love people. Get into the ruthless militarian state of mind where the greater good of the many overrules the good of the individual. It is just a synopsis after all, merely a marketing tool. It isn't the end all, be all of your book.

Answer one question and then focus on that.

The question?

What is your book about? One sentence, that's it. Mine is: My book is about a woman, going through a major life changing event, seeks to find who she is.

Doesn't sound like fantasy, scifi, paranormal much does it? No, but despite the vampires, werewolves, witches, special powers, murders... that is the purpose of my book. Samantha is trying to find out who she is, where she fits in, what her purpose is. In fact, that is the purpose of my whole series.

Answer your question. The answer is the direction of your synopsis. What parts of the story are most important to show your question and answer?

Then edit the shit out of your synopsis. Cut characters, cut special powers, cut secondary character's motivations and get down to brass tacks. Your synopsis should have a logical train of though containing a beginning, a middle, a climax and a falling action. It should read as a complete story. Emotional lines and plot lines should be tied off nicely. Your best resource is to have people unassociated with the book, read the synopsis.

For more resources...

http://www.writing-world.com/publish/synopsis.shtml
http://www.charlottedillon.com/synopsis.html - a lot of links there.
http://www.fictionwriters.com/tips-synopsis.html
http://www.vivianbeck.com/writing/5_steps_to_writing_a_synopsis.htm - an agent talks about how to write a synopsis

The Writer's Journey.

My new writing group

I've perused the local resources and have come upon a great writers group. It is for fiction writers and we actually do more than back patting. We offer construct criticism and so far the group helped me tighten and clean up my synopsis. I may actually be confident enough to send my manuscript out sometime soon. Imagine that!

Let me say here that not all writing groups are created equal. Some are genre oriented, some are for poets, some are mixed media... some are for back patters.

You know what I mean here... Several people come, dressed to the nines, holding a professional looking leather folder under their arm with their poetry inside. Handing copies to everyone in the room, they clear their throat and read aloud. Their voice is calm and resonates through out the room. They don't stutter or read too fast. They are in complete control. They are performing.

The poem ends and everyone takes a minute to take it in

Meanwhile: I'm thinking, what the hell was it supposed to mean? Am I supposed to keep thinking about it? Does anyone understand the juxtaposition of a bomb and a ceiling fan, the Pink Panther and Paris Hilton? I sure don't. Am I supposed to clap? Perhaps snap my fingers and say it's far out man while resisting the urge to iron my hair? I have no idea so I just sit back and watch what others do.

They praise the poet. Beautiful wording! Great imagery!.

I pipe up then. I thought the line about the exploding manure chemical compound was redundant. They already had a line about a shit bomb going off. A hush falls over the crowd and the crickets even seem to disarm their chirps. All eyes fall to me and I smile vaguely.

Commit. You started this, now finish it Sandra.

I shuffle the papers of the 5 page long single spaced, one stanza poem and clear my throat. It's time for my performance now. I explain that while different words are used, the concept is redundant.

Tighten it up! Make it punch! Omit needless words!

At this point a few mouths gape open and one cricket tentatively chirps. The poet glares toward the window and the cricket promptly shuts up.

The poet comments, "I appreciate your thoughts,fiction writer" Fiction writer went unsaid, but the tone was there. All spittle and contempt as the title flew and stuck to me with his snobby phlegm. I was not a poet. I took things literally. I didn't understand.

Hell they were right. I didn't understand. I do read poetry from time to time and can enjoy it. I've even been known to write a poem from time to time, but hell people, mine make sense. I swear they do!

But my lack of understanding was not my crime here. My crime was to infer that the poem wasn't perfect. Well excuuuuuse me people, I didn't know this was a circle jerk. I thought I was at a writer's meeting.

There in lies the problem with some writer's groups. We all want feedback, sure, and praise is great, but constructive criticism is better.

Writers are artists, and as artists we don't tend to see the whole picture sometimes. Writing is like pointilism, you have to take a step back to see what you've really created, but when your heart is written into every line, every point that went into your picture, sometimes it's impossible to detach. Therefore you need a guide, someone who stands a few feet behind you and points your red pen in the right direction.

Back patters place their hand on your shoulder and push you even further into the blurred mass.

I need no back patters in my world, for I want to make it better.

Lucky for me, I found the right group.

*** Warning the following is a PC message meant to leave everyone with warm fuzzies, but since I wrote it, it probably won't but here is is anyway--the cover my ass clause.

Let me say that there is nothing wrong with poetry or even with back patters, but if you want to be a better writer, learn to take criticism. As I said, I write poetry and have nothing against poets, using a poet just worked better for my example. I know fiction writers who do the same thing, surround themselves with people who inflate their egos. This behavior spans genres, fields, races, genders, classes... if one wants to become better at anything at all, they must face reality and the reality is that nothing is perfect. Find the faults--then fix them.

Thomas Wolfe says You Can't Go Home Again

I concur. You can go to the physical place, but being human, being changeable, skews the perception we have of our old hometowns. I should know, I just came back to mine.

The difference dwindles down to the house I grew up in even. My parents recently remodeled it, trading a bedroom for a walk-in closet and an additional bathroom. They removed walls, closets, shrunk bathrubs...all in effort to make the house more livable to them. They'd already lived in it for 30 years, one would think that with their three daughters gone, they'd have enough room. I suppose that sounds catty, and it is, but it isn't meant to be so. I see that as the truth, but I don't begrudge my parents the remodel In fact I think it was a good thing for them to do. They moved laundry facilities up stairs, added a comfort height toliet and a large shower. It is now a house they can grow old in. The problem is, I didn't really figure into the remodel and now I'm here, tucked in the corner bedroom away from the world with my room darkening shades. I used to like caves growing up, but hell, I just moved back up here from Florida. I'm going to need my sunlight.

The third person in the living room invariably gets a neck ache from watching tv. If they have the tv on while we're eating dinner, my spot is the one with my back to the TV. My bathroom has the narrow tub and pedestle sink with no surface space for my things. This is a temporary life for me, and I know that, but how can I get started on changing my life, on finding the permanence of myself when my environment is so temporary? I don't know yet. (I'd like to add that my mom always offers to switch spots with me, is willing to buy me organizers and things to make my life easier. I am not being overlooked, I just don't know if I want this sort of money invested in something that is temporary.)

Last weekend I went out with a friend to some of the old haunts in my old stomping ground. What did I discover? I discovered I'm no fun anymore. I had two beers, at least as much water, and went to three bars. I didn't feel confident enough to walk the mile through downtown to the bars from my friend's house so I drove. Since I drove, I didn't drink much. How responsible of me. How mature of me. How unlike my old self of me. My friend even commented on my restraint. Granted when we'd hung out in this town I'd still been in highschool, but regardless... I'm a different person now. I just don't know who that person is yet.

Part of me feared coming back to my hometown. Part of me feared I'd become the person I was. Hell, it'd be nice to be that person again. I feel selfish now, but then I WAS selfish, for sure... or rather self centered, but most teens are. I was wrapped up in my own little world with my own little cares about my own little drama. Now I have bigger cares, bigger drama and the same amount of space to hold it all. If I couldn't manage it then, what am I to do now?

I have a lot of questions, but very few answers, another difference between the two mes of my hometown. The know-it-all teen and the know nothing divorcee.

There are good things about coming home though. I'm learning things again. I learned things before, but... well I'll just come out and say it, I think my Dad is the smartest guy on the planet and that he knows just about everything, at least when it comes to science. So we have dicussions and I ask questions, kind of like when I was younger. I finally understand how barometric pressure works in predicting weather. I REALLY get it, not just a memorized answer to a test question. I get how tornadoes are formed. We discuss things and crack jokes with each other, most inappropriate ones my mother doesn't approve of, which is why we probably do it. This makes me happy you see. I haven't lost all of the person I was. I still have some things I recognize in myself.

On the writing front, things are progressing at a snails pace, but that it just fine with me. I'd love to be done with book 2, but for what? Just to start book 3? The writing process for me is never really over, especially for Sam's series... there's always more of the story told, and with the finish of one book, the urge to tell more becomes stronger, so any pace is a good one, the stories will be told regardless.

I found a great writing group. One that actually has novelists a part of it. I have no problems with poetry, but I'm not looking for a group of poets to revise my work. I'm seeking novelists who I can lay my work bare to and get honest feedback. I think I've found the group and am quite excited about it.

I also went to an SCA meeting, a medieval reenactment group. The people there were quite welcoming and I look forward to going back, unfortunately the next SCA meeting is the same as the writers meeting. I'm picking the writers group. The SCA meet every monday and the writers group meets twice a month, once on a monday, once on a wednesday. I want to nuture the connections I made at the SCA group, but writing is important to me and I'll have three other mondays a month to get to know the SCA people better.

There's a little update on me and my life. I know I don't blog often, and I'm sorry for that. I don't know what the future holds so I will make no promises in this regard, but know that I am not giving up on blogging. And drop some comments once in awhile will ya people?

This video... well... LOL cheesy but fitting. (I don't blame you if you don't watch it, hell I couldn't make it through most of it and I was multitasking.)

Spent the weekend in Chicago

On Thursday, rain pelted the roof and wind rocked the casbah, resulting in mass power failure for many of the local states. 2/3, possibly 3/4 of Kalamazoo County was without power, including yours truly.

Luckily, my parents have a generator and while I bravely perservered through no A/C, sweat on my brow and determination in my stance, I opted out of suffering and hitched a ride to Chicago with one of my college friends.

Much conversation and traffic later, we arrived at our other friend's condo, a super cute, hi-tech place in Boystown. While there, we jazzed around town, spending too much money and eating great food.

Portillo's http://www.portillos.com/ - A Chicago favorite, I recommend their burgers and the onion rings weren't half bad either.

Pasta Bowl http://www.pastabowl.com/ - Truly a must for Fettucini Alfredo lovers. Mmm Mmm Good.

Lincoln Square is a quaint area for shopping, including a fun little bookstore called the Book Cellar. http://www.bookcellarinc.com/ I love book super stores where I can find almost anything, but this little place made me wonder what it would be like to own a small store, consciously hemming and hawing over every little book you picked to stock. What fun!

A great little store with a little of everything is Eclecticity http://www.eclec.com/ - Where I bought a writing game to help with those trouble spots. I look forward to cracking it open and letting the juices flow.

My girls and I played a game called Moods, where it isn't what you say, but how you say it. Anyone who is a fan of improv or acting, or just likes a case of the sillies, try this game. Truly a Zany experience.

My hitched ride stayed an extra day and then continued their trip cross country, so I bopped onto and train and with the help of a mellow massage therapist from San Diego, enjoyed the slightly prolonged 2.5 hours back to Kalamazoo.

Writing pet peeves

I'm reading Stephen King's On Writing and he lists his writing pet peeves as does Mr. Strunk from the famous little writing book Elements of Style.

Here are a few of mine...

I concur on the horrors passive writing, however I write passively more than I should.

The word "suddenly" bothers me. In a movie, suddenly works because all of the sudden there is something there, but in books, things just don't suddenly happen. The reader reads at the same pace and to use the word suddenly seems rather silly. Just say what happened and then how surprised people's reactions were.

I dislike headhopping, switching between different perspectives often. I caution writers to be especially careful when people of the same gender are involved. When so many "shes" or "hes" are involved it becomes confusing and sometimes overuse of creative pronouns can be irritating as well. I personally like when each scene is written from a different perspective, much clearer to read and understand.

Too many names. Only name the characters that warrant a name. Too many names is confusing, especially if they start with the same letter or sound. To elaborate on this, only give really important characters last names.

I'm sure I will come up with more for later but that's it for now.

Sad news is the reason I've been gone for so long

I'm getting a divorce. I'm sorry for my inconsisent posting. I'd like to be able to promise that it will get better but frankly, I have no idea what is ahead of me in life.

We set plans in motion and think to the future, but occasionally, a random meteor flies in from Chaosville and lambastes us. Well that's where I am folks.

I'd like to think of this as an adventure and that I will put one brave foot in front of the other, but I'll be honest... I'm scared. I don't know what looms in front of me. This is a scary time of the unknown, but it is also a time of the what could be, and possibly what should be. The world is my oyster,and while I've never liked seafood, perhaps it's time I gave new things a try.

Any positive mojo sent my way would be most welcome.

Thanks for sticking around. It means a lot.

Update and a new ditty

I've been gone quite awhile. I left for a two week vacation to Michigan, which has turned into quite an adventure, considering I am currently in Texas. Sorry for the delay in writing/blogging, but frankly I've just been having too much fun. I will blog more in the up coming weeks, especially starting in August as my vacation won't be officially over until then. :( I have been writing, only a few pages here and there, but progress is progress and I look forward to getting back to my daily goal of 4 pages.

here is a little ditty I wrote while on vacation. The characters intrigue me and I look forward to seeing what hilarity ensues, because I assure you, it will.

Suzanne, never having been graced with an orgasm, is a control freak. One might think she would don a tightly wound bun or prim collars, but they would be sorely mistaken. Sue exudes eccentricity with her long flowing skirts, tattoos, brightly decorated toenails and charm dangling hairwrap.

Suzanne is not what we would call a fuddy duddy.

Goes to show what we know.

Philosophically Sue is a master, a mind boggling source of information on any topic, all relating to the deeper thoughts of what man is, on why man is here. She can discuss sex, drugs, rock and roll, metaphysics, rocket science, evolution, creationism, Buddhism, Hinduism, the merits of homemade play dough verses brand name and whether the newest celebrity marriage will last. She can do this all while sewing a quilt by hand, playing the stock market and running her Fortune 500 company.

But even for all that, Sue is not happy. She does not consider herself accomplished.

She has never had an orgasm.

***

The waves lapped against Suzanne’s body with the rhythm of something sinful and sweaty. The constant barrage on places left virtually untouched by anyone save herself left Sue a tingling feeling dancing across the surface of her skin. Her bathing suit, a simple one piece with a bright sarong lying on the chaise lounge poolside, hid all the necessities and yet accentuated her trim waist, long legs and ample bosom.

Blonde hair floating around her serene face, eyes closed, and a small smile playing upon her lips was how Griggs found her. Griggs was enchanted from the get go, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Who is Mr. Griggs? Why does he go by his last name and what in tarnation was he doing by the poolside this one afternoon? Simply it all comes down to a case of mistaken identity. Neither Mr. Griggs nor Suzanne know who they truly are. Let’s start at the beginning shall we?

Mr. Griggs is a miracle baby. He was born of a fifty year old mother who never believing herself capable of having children, was quite shocked to find her willy nilly sexual ways had finally caught up with her. At the ripe age of thirty, Mr. Griggs dealt with an eighty year old mother who frankly, we’d like to say was a tad bit more sane in her earlier life, but that would be a lie. Mr. Grigg’s mother, while not as mad as a hatter, certainly had a different way about her, combine that with the natural oddness that comes over a person as they age and Mr. Griggs has had his hands full.


A tribute to my cross country trip.

Internal Monologue of a Rejected Writer

I've concluded a little something about myself in the past few days. While I write books, short stories etc... I'm not exactly an author and definitely not a novelist.

I enjoy writing and people enjoy reading what I write, and yet I don't have a love for words. I think I should have a love for words. I surely should know more words than I do. My vocabulary is fairly limited, I'll admit. At some point in my past, more than likely my rebellious teens, I opted to use swear words instead of other adjectives. I've never liked English class and couldn't tell you what an adverb was for a very long time. Dependent clauses...? Ha! I love them... I think.

I certainly do not have a fine honed knowledge of the craft of writing. Would I like to possess such a skill? Sure. Am I willing to do what it takes to get there? Ugh. There in lies the rub. To be completely honest, I am a person who lacks a certain self confidence. I question myself all the time, and when I find myself lacking in a certain area, I try to avoid it. If I were to learn about the craft of writing in all its glorious and terrifying detail, I would be admiting to myself quite clearly that I have no idea what I am doing... which would greatly affect my writing. I'd constantly be worrying about how many dependent clauses I have and worry that I used the word so about 50 bazillion times.

So how do I combat this feelings of inadequecy? I don't. I avoid learning these things that make me feel bad. It's quite easy really, grammar texts are so boring and my eye lids start to feel heavy after the first paragraph, which I no doubtedly already read 5 times and still don't understand it.

Perhaps this behavior is some sort of conditioned response because I know the outcome of this information... I have no clue. All I can hope to do is try to trick myself into learning these things, or go on hiatus from writing while I learn all I can and then write in a completely different way.

How do I plan on tricking myself? Because really, not writing isn't an option. All I can do is try to read with a more discerning eye. I'll have to keep myself apart from the story line and try to focus on the craft of a book, not a pleasant experience for if it is a book I enjoy, the craft is normally close to flawless and thus isn't apparent to the reader who becomes totally absorbed into the story. So you see my predicament.

When I read books within my genre I'm okay. I see many similarities between the styles and don't find myself sorely lacking. But when I pick up a book out of my genre, I start to see my own failings. I don't have enough exposition, but most readers in my genre don't like exposition, oh but look how well this writer uses it and the depth it gives the characters and the book as a whole... but my readers don't want that kind of depth that quickly... but I feel like I'm cheating them out of a better story by leaving it out... Look, you crazy mental writer its going to be hard enough to get published as it is without you throwing all kinds of exposition into a genre that doesn't welcome it. Leave it be.

Ahhh... there we find the source all of my ramblings. I've received two rejection letters via email already. Two, not a whole lot yes? But I've done some research and am also sending some queries out to publishing houses and I just have this feeling I'm doing something wrong. My queries are fine, they are going to the right people and I'm going through the proper channels... but I feel like I'm burning bridges by doing this before getting an agent. Let's say one day I do get an agent, is he going to be able to pitch my ms to an editor I've already been rejected by? There are only so many publishing houses that will publish paranormal fiction. What if I'm rejected by all of them? What do I do then? Somehow this impending distaster seems to not only be looming on the horizon, but the horizon seems to be racing toward me at the speed of light.

I know this sounds like one big poor me blog and in all honesty it probably is. I know somehow I'll forget about this problem, or work it out for myself. I know that I'll learn the craft eventually if I keep writing. But I haven't been blogging lately and am feeling something lacking because of it. I've been busy sure, but have had some breakthroughs and haven't shared them via my blog. So I felt the need to be honest with all of you today, as honest as I can be. This is how I'm feeling today, so this is how you all will receive me today.

And I love you for it.

Opening Up to Rejection

I still haven't heard back from the agent. I keep telling myself it's too soon and it really is, but that still doesn't stop the anxiety from rising time to time. I'm trying my best to shore up my defenses, to submerge my brain and heart and soul into the pool called reality before I hear back. Most likely it will be a form rejection letter, I know that. My brain knows that at least. My heart and soul are a little less sure of that fact and are wary and hopeful at the same time.

This line that I walk as a writer is a fine one. I need to put my soul into my work, then I have to lay it all out on the line. And even if rejected, I have to put my soul on the line again to keep writing, to keep trying. My brain knows this, it knows what it should keep doing, but the brain is only one third of what I need to be successful. My brain I'm fine with until the heart and soul start messing with it, and until my brain tries to rationalize what my heart and soul feel, until my brain shores up its defenses so tight that nothing gets into my heart and soul, or out of it. This is what I'm trying to prevent from happening.

Am I being too sensitive about it? Sure, I am, my brain knows that. My heart and soul haven't had the exercise my brain has had though, they aren't as strong and are much much more fragile. So I ride this line, the one between reality and hope, and between hope and dreams carefully.

Some friends tell me that of course I'll be chosen, its a great book, great query letter etc... but those friends aren't perhaps aware of how the publishing world works. Other friends tell me that the agent is stupid if he doesn't want to at least view a partial, and I dearly hope these friends are right and I also hope the agent isn't stupid :) Other friends try the realist approach, probably the one I need most now. Many authors are rejected for years over and over again for years but keep writing. I need to remember these authors during this time. I need to remember that nothing good happens without risk and you can't risk if you don't put any of yourself out there on the line.

So friends, family, help me strengthen my heart and my soul, not harden it, but strengthen them to stand on their own two feet, to be able to ride out of the storm if there is one, to be sure enough of themselves to keep on trying, to keep on giving.

Because I want those things, I want to keep giving, I NEED to vent my creativity. so if not for anyone else, I need to strengthen my heart and soul for me, because whatever happens, I NEED to keep writing. For sanity? Happiness? Fulfillment? I don't know, but that doesn't make the need any less potent. All I know for sure is one thing...

I am a writer.

Out of Control cont.

I write the beginning of this some time ago and really liked it. I was diligently working on book 2 the other day and my brain wouldn't cooperate with it so I worked on something else... I added onto Out of Control... here it is so far...

Out of control. Does anyone know what that truly means? Sure there are drunken nights where we go a little wild, but we still made those choices. Our minds were under the influence of alcohol, but alcohol doesn’t tell us what to do. It cannot control us, it simply loosens our morals a bit, causing us to do what we would if we had no inhibitions. Alcohol makes us do what we really want to do.

That certainly isn’t being out of control, perhaps being drunk is simply being out of the control of society, of civilization.

But what truly is being out of control? We have choices we make everyday. The waking up in the morning, the getting out of bed—we choose that. We wear certain clothes. We talk with certain words—all choices.

What if all that was taken away from you? What if you weren’t even able to think your own thoughts? If you had no control over your motor functions? What if someone—something—had control over your breathing, and even when you blinked?

Welcome to my world.


***


Water pounded on my bloody fingernails as my brain snapped into place. They had given me back control too early…again. If only that were a good thing. I much preferred the days when I woke up blissfully unaware of my nighttime activities.

My stomach revolted and I doubled over in pain, awaiting the worst to come. Every awakening was the same—a moment of clear headedness followed by the racing stream of images of my covert actions. Like a dream, they drifted out of my mind’s grasp as soon as I tried to hold on. The memories I lacked were as elusive as the chip in my head was present.

Our bodies are ruled by little electrical pulses directed by our brains. A chip can control those pulses more effectively than our brains. The technology that held me together and kept me alive was the bane of my existence. The irony was not lost on me.

Decisions had been decided, deals had been done—I’d made this choice. Purging myself of whatever entered my stomach from the night before was on par with me trying to vomit the remnants of the deal I made with the titanium devil—fruitless. I’d have to eat again and I couldn’t survive without my mechanical friends.
Dragging my sorry ass out of the bathroom, I looked at the clock in the kitchen, seven in the morning. Not bad, I’d only lost a few hours this time. How much damage could I have done in three hours time? Downing a glass of water from the sink, the taste of regret and vomit was replaced with the cotton mouth feel of dread. The cordless phone sat innocently on the counter, unaware of its part in my mood swing. The date and time on the caller id taunted as it flashed. Picking up the phone, I threw it across the room at the clock. Both smashed into bits and after leaving a sizable dent in the wall, fell to the floor.
I hadn’t been booted up for three hours.
I’d been plugged in for three weeks.
***
The second I knocked on the door, I regretted my decision to come here. I bounced my heel on the ground of the dirty alley while I waited for Fister to come to the door. I’d never been here before, but just like every other Jack, a term used to describe those of us who jack into the system, I knew who Fister was and where he lived. He was a shyster was what he was. And where he was? Well picture the most God awful place imaginable… the place where even sin is afraid to come…where nightmares are preferable to reality and you have the abode of one Mr. Fister.

I looked down both ways of the alley. No one was here not even the rats. If the rodents were smart enough to stay away why the hell wasn’t I?

“Marilee Jenkins, what an unexpected, albeit no less delightful, surprise.”

Jerking my head back to the doorway, I stopped breathing for a moment when I met the eyes of the man before me—the man who shouldn’t know who I was. Handsome in the traditional sense of symmetrical features, Fister’s face wasn’t appealing in the slightest. His too wide mouth was not softened by slightly full lips, but hardened by thin stretched bands instead. His teeth were straight enough, but from years of bad hygiene, they’d rotted away until small points were left. His eyes were actually quite a nice cross between blue and gray but his pupils were always so small you felt as if he would prick you with them at any given moment. The man would’ve looked okay from a distance in profile. He’d probably even look nice, a model citizen if you will with his unassuming medium brown hair, as long as he didn’t show his teeth or turn his stare on you.

The man was scarred, oh not on the outside mind you, no his skin was flawless on the outsides. On the inside, running just under the surface of Mr. Fister was being comprised completely of scars, some his own, but mostly the scars of others. You see, Fister here is a scavenger—a self made Frankenstein.

D Day!

My query letter is written, finalized, printed and placed inside an addressed envelope with a SASE. All I need to do is seal it and put a stamp on it. Easy enough right? Oh probably except this is the first time I've ever done this and I need someone to hold my hand and tell me it's all going to all okay.

Is my manuscript really done? Are the first three chapters good enough to make the cut?

BLAH! GET OVER IT! *deep breath* Okay I'm over it I did it, it's sealed stamped and put in the mailbox. Wish me luck!

Things be always be worse tho, I could be this guy...

Comparing your work

I'm feelig a bit conflicted today. I can't say who said this as it is one of a "Ya know what they say." Well they said that the traits you don't like in someone else, are the ones you don't like in yourself. I'm wondering if that's true with writing as well.

I just finished a book by a very popular author that I like, but I didn't like this book. I felt the plot was forced, the character interaction abysmal and found the resolution lacking. Now, I think I do a pretty good job on the character interaction in my own writing, but I will admit that there are times when I definitely feel like I don't know to make a mystery work. When the Aha! moment to me seems weak or forced. I think that since I already know what's going on I wrote the damn thing afterall, that the Aha! moment isn't going to be a moment of revelation because I knew it all from the beginning. So I can't really judge that moment very well. Is writing this pinnacle moment something an author learns over time or is it instinctual? Any thoughts on this would be great!

Sandra: the woman, the writer and the reader on Susan Elizabeth Phillips

I’m emotionally exhausted. I wish I could say it’s from me putting my all into my book, but it isn’t. I just finished reading Susan Elizabeth Phillip’s book, “Honey Moon.” As with most of her books, but especially the ones from the early nineties, she puts me through the emotional wringer. There are so many ups, downs, twists turns and in this last one, even a spiral, that I’m left reeling when I finally close the back cover. There isn’t a book of hers so far that I haven’t been snookered into reading in one day. And believe me, to go through all those emotions in a day is a harrowing experience. When I finally finish that last page and look at her picture on the inside of the back flap, I don’t know whether to curse or praise Phillips. As a woman, I curse her because she brings too many of my own emotions to the surface, as an author I admire her and am fiercely jealous. As a reader I’m in awe of her talent and her insight into the human mind. I saw her speak at the Romance Writers of America conference last year in Atlanta, GA. I wonder if her insight into the human psyche is from her past as an actress? Either way, she puts so much into these books that I’m amazed she has anything left of herself. I suppose I shouldn’t be too amazed, seeing as her and Honey just took a small part of me with them. Hats off to you Susan Elizabeth Phillips!

A short farewell

Upon finishing the first major edit of my manuscript, Inevitable, I’ve been taking a break from blogging. This break wasn’t intentional—just sort of happened. I’d become wrapped up in editing, or I expend my brain to the point where it was only in Inevitable mode. Unfortunately for my blog readers, this is still where my brain is. My mind is gripping the manuscript so much it’s difficult to read books without wandering to my own. So with my tunnel vision, I’ve opted out of blogging for a little while. When I feel Inevitable is finally done, I will come back to blogger and to all of you.

-ST

The stream of conscious blogger

I vacillated on what to blog about today. I thought I'd blog about the latest book I'm reading, which isn't "latest" at all, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. But I hadn't finished it yet, so then I made a list of books I've read recently (way too many considering I'm still not done editing my book) and thought I'd do mini reviews of each of them. Then I got to playing on the internet as I'm known to do, and ran across a thread about the VT school shooting.

So I said my piece known about that and caught myself repeating lines from F451 in my head. So I wrote this long thing about how he's right and it's amazing how clear his vision of the future was etc... etc... Then I copy and pasted it into my "Create Blog" box and stared at it. It didn't say everything I wanted to say about the book, hell I wasn't even done reading it yet. Was I doing the book justice by making commentary on it when I was only 1/3 of the way through. The fact that I felt lead to discuss when it wasn't even finished made my decision for me. I had to respect the book and author that affected my that much with only part of his book. So I closed the lid to my laptop and finished the damn book.

Here I sit, done with the book and a rash of thoughts swirling in my head. I'm looking over what I wrote from before and still agree with everything I wrote, but there's so much more I want to say. It's almost 5 pm my time and I'm feeling guilty for not blogging already and I haven't even attempted to look for a video yet and with my shoddy internet connection, that's going to take awhile.

My conclusion to this small dilemma I have today? I will not post my thoughts on F451 and Ray Bradbury's genius today. I have too much respect to lay down immortal internet words about his work when I don't have the time, nor presence of mind to do them justice.

Handling Self Doubt

Is thinking your work isn’t good self doubt? Or is it recognizing your failings and fixing them? Aka editing

I’ve been editing quite a bit lately, in fact I’ve done about 80 pages in the last few days. I went back to read chapter one of my book and it wasn’t flowing for me. That’s a problem… or is it? Am I being too hard on myself? Am I not in the reading mood? Are the problems I’m seeing really problems, or just me doubting myself?

There’s really no way to be sure when you are in a mood. So I’m forcing myself to sit back and take a break. Not from editing all together, but from looking back at chapter one. Knowing myself, it’s all too possible that I’m just in some mind funk where nothing is good enough. So I’m waiting it out until I’m in a better frame of mind.

So what to do when you are in the crazy brain place where you hate your work…

- First thing you do is come up with specific questions on what you think is wrong with the passage. If you aren’t being nutty about it, the questions will help you revise later.

- Take a break from the part you are disliking—move on to a different part

-Write something new, different than what you are editing or writing before, perhaps you are just bored

- If you are dead set on figuring this out right away (not advisable) go to one of our beta readers and ask them what they think, but be forewarned, you must have specific questions, not just “does this suck?” But more like, does this part flow well, does it match the rest of the story? Is it lacking excitement?

- When you are in a better frame of mind, compare the part in question with a part that you do like, what are the differences?

Just know that it is entirely possible that you are being neurotic about it. We’re writers after all and have characters speaking to us in our heads, being neurotic isn’t too far behind. BUT, it is also possible that you are simply observing your work with a neutral eye… not an easy task. So make your notes, come back when your head is on straight and realize you are a genius, either in waiting it out so you didn’t destroy your work, or having the awareness of self to look upon your work with a discerning, critical eye. Either way you win.

Mermaid part 2

Hands tied behind my back, he hefted me over his shoulder and dumped me in the back of, what I’m guessing is a van—the industrial kind that don’t have seats or windows in the back. I bounced against the hard metal floor, wondering if I’d bump into high tech listening equipment that seemed factory installed with this type of vehicle—at least according to movies, and I didn’t have much experience with dry land excepting motion pictures, both the making of and the watching.

“Watch it, you’ll bruise me.”

“I’ll do more than that by the time I’m done, as I’m sure you’ll remember.”

Unfortunately I did remember, and I could picture his sly smile as he said it. So smug.

“And what will my father say about that?” There, that ought to put the fear of God into him, no one messed with Poseidon or his children and got away with it.

“Ahh, but he sent me after you my lady. Got yourself into a bit of trouble up here on land it seems.”

He what! Oh that was just like something Papa would do, send this cretin after me when he knows our history. Possibly Daddy thought I’d come back easily if what’s his name over there came for me.

The ear splitting noise of the metal doors slamming against one another marked his exit. The roar of the engine was followed by a lot of jarring bumps and turns. Was he going off roading? Knowing him, he probably did this to rattle me. He was always doing this sort of thing back home—anything to get a rise out of me. One would think that with Akheilos as his father, he would’ve learned a bit more self restraint, but not my Strix, no he always had to make his own mistakes and I was still waiting for them to come back and bite him on the ass.

After a long time of grueling bouncing back and forth causing my breasts to ache like they were used for punching bags, Strix stopped the van. Dragging me out by one ankle and tossing me over his shoulder again, he carried me into a building. Dumped onto a soft surface, the bag was taken off my head.

“Triton will get you back for this. You know how protective of me he gets.”

“Ah yes, the infamous brother. Protective of you, Khary? He just tried calming you when you had your little hissy fits, which was often by the way, so you wouldn’t cause ships to crash. Triton likes his humans almost as much as he likes his calm seas and that damned horn of his. You were just a means to an end.”

Pursed lips, I refused to take Strix’s bait. Making me angry and frustrated was only going to make me puke again, and knowing him, he wouldn’t let me make it to a bathroom and force me to lay in the mess. After turning to my human form, I still had to puke the prescribed once a day, although controlling the tides had nothing to do with it, just force of habit I guess. I mean, what did my people expect? I grew up my whole life throwing up every morning, bulimia was the next most logical step when I took on my human form, so I fit in perfectly in Hollywood where bingeing and purging is the name of the game.

After much hmpfing and general fidgeting, Strix untied my arms and laid me back on the bed. His eyes turned the shiny onyx they always did before he… ah hem well maybe I should’ve kept still and not drawn attention to myself.

“You need to rest up, for I’ll be back to tire you out shortly.”

Dragging his eyes from my body, I felt every place they touched. Now hot from head to toe, it was going to be a bitch getting some sleep, and knowing him, I’d need it.

Slippery Slope

The past few days I’ve been quite busy. Not with writing, but preparing for writing, and no not even research. I’ve been rearranging furniture. I moved my bedroom outfit around (the bedroom doubles as my office) I cleared my old computer desk off and the newer one (the nice big one) and am swapping. I made room for it and bought a new bookcase, which is delightfully full of novels. Oh how I love looking at the books I own.

So then its all set up, organized, even partially decorated. Then I get onto to my writing and editing. That is when I take the step that is invariably leading me down a very slippery steep slope. Now that I have the room, I’ve started making notes to myself on sticky pads then sticking the notes to the wall. So far I’ve managed to have only three on the wall, but I feel the desire to place more, to vary the color depending upon the note. I feel the need to make maps and place them on the wall, to find pictures out of magazines for my locations and to print out my character pictures and push pin them to the wall as well.

In fact, I’m even looking forward to gazing at those items on my wall as much as I like looking at the books on my shelf. I anticipate feeling like a general of my own world. There I am, standing near my wall, dressed to the nines, with a long pointer indicating certain areas on the wall size map of the city my book is placed in. I point out the suspects and their most likely hiding place. I give the run down of what’s happened so far in the plot then look into my non existent audience to field questions. Except all that stares back at me is the bed I forgot to make when I woke up that morning. But nonetheless I am inspired by this daydream and now I’m off to search for maps on ebay.

Mermaid Short

The water was clear blue, just like every other day. Well today perhaps there was a slight greenish tint to it and that ladies and gentleman, is the extent of excitement in my life.

It wasn’t always like this. I used to have excitement. Hell, I even miss the days when people would constantly ask me how I went to the bathroom. I was kind of like “duh!” but when the lower half of your body is all scales and one big tail fin, I guess it’s okay for humans to wonder. Now when we got to the how do I have sex question, which invariably included a lecherous leer, that’s when my patience ran out. Oh there were a few times when the man asking the question was cute enough, and asked in such a way that I showed him, but those days are over. Now, I’m all washed up.

I have performance anxiety. It isn’t supposed to happen, ya know. I’m kind of like a werewolf who turns with the full moon. When the tide is high, I’m a mermaid, but for some reason I can’t turn anymore. So here I sit, on the rocks near the ocean longing to be somewhere I can’t. Everyday I make note of the color of the sea and what happened to me on days when the sea was that color.

I’m a has-been, never will be again. My body is still amazing by human standards, but people recognize my face and then I’m no longer a female with a hot body, but a mermaid with an ordinary set of legs.

I’d like to blame it on the Lubriderm commercial I was in. You know the one, an alligator walks around all slow like and a chick with a great pair of sticks rubs lotion all over them. Yeah well, take that commercial but combine the gator and the chick into one person, a scaly hot chick—that’s me. I’d be in a Mer form then rub lotion on my tail and viola, I’d be ordinary again, albeit with silky smooth, evenly tanned legs.

Pebbles cascaded down the rocky path and bounced their way by me to plummet into the crashing waves. Oh great, he was here again.

“I don’t want any, don’t have any, don’t need any.”

“That might matter if I gave a shit what you thought.”

Turning around, I saw a face I never wanted to see again for as long as I loved… er…lived. I caught a glimpse of his onyx black eyes and slicked back hair before he threw the burlap bag over my head.

In my prime no one would’ve kidnapped me with a potato sack. Silk, it definitely would’ve been silk. I thought I would at least warrant a poly-cotton blend—oh how the mighty have fallen.


In russian???

A writer on writing

Writing is easy isn't it? The hard part is coming up with the story, right?

Um... wrong. I have ideas coming out my ass, but not the time to write them all. No, the writing itself is the hard part. Just telling a story in person is easy, telling it well and with interest is more difficult... now writing down that story and making it interesting is something else all together.

When you tell a story in person, you have inflection in your voice, hand motions, facial expressions, you set the pacing. All of those things come naturally, but when you write a story down, you have to implement those into your work with interest. Just saying, Her voice was sing songy as she said "You'll never catch me" Isn't as interesting as it could be. You can't write *insert suspense* or *dramatic pause* Hell you can't even write *pause* the most you can do is put in a comma--ooh how interesting.

So then, how do you make it interesting? Hmm, beats me, you just do. Ha.

No, all of those things I've been listing throughout the past few months are what you can do to make your story interesting. Keep the action fast, show, not tell, watch how passive your tense is. Keep things written in the proper order unless you are obviously telling the story out of order and it all comes together in the end. But of course all these things only work if you have a good story to begin with.

All of these writing techniques are called the Craft, the writing craft. To quote Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Good Craft won't get you published, but lack of good craft will prevent it.

It takes more than a good story to make a good writer, but lucky for us, for the most part, craft can be taught. If the writer has a natural feel for how a story is supposed to be told, the rest is just gravy. If the writer doesn't have a natural feel for how a story is supposed to be told, they should read more books, watch more movies until they figure it out. If they can't? Well maybe they aren't writers.

Not that, as writers, we are some elitest group who don't accept all members. No, being a writer is just something you are or you aren't.

Born that way? Possibly.

The only way to determine if someone is a writer or not is the person themselves. No one can tell you, you aren't a writer. Only your self doubt can do that. If you feel the desire, no the need to tell a story, then you are either a storyteller (actor) a screen writer or a writer. You make that decision. But like any other talent/art, it takes practice.

Bellies so many

Tara ran her hand over her stomach. Hard, ripped, defined lines, everything a stomach should be.

Suzanne ran a hand over her belly, her pot, her bringer of life. Her belly was done, the timer had popped up and it was time to take it out.

Janis ran a hand over her stomach, her gut, her pooch. Soft, yielding, everything a stomach shouldn't be. But her daughter loves the feeling of safety it provides when someone she doesn't know tries to talk to her. It is a place to hide her face when she feels shy, it is her sanctuary.

Rose ran a hand over her stomach, troubled again. Would food ever sit well with her again or would the sickness take her long before that?

Nayla ran a hand over her distended stomach. Pushed out in starvation, it was misleading. Her insides were swollen from malnutrition, not from being overfed.

Angie ran a hand over her stomach, or the few rolls that made up a stomach. Would the faint red lines ever fade away? Would she ever find the time, the drive, to work her rolls away? Would she ever accept that this is how she looks and go out in public again? She'd love to see her daughter's play in person.

Kathryn ran a shaky hand over her stomach. Flat, but flappy. She'd lost too much weight, the doctors weren't going to like that, her children weren't going to like that. They'd try to make her eat again. More it's always one more, one more bite of jello, one more roll, one more chunk of chicken. One more appointment, just give us one more year with her.

Julia ran a hand over her belly and gave it one loud smack. Giggling, she showed her younger brother what she could do. He tried to do it too, but her bigger belly made the louder noise. The whole beach, her favorite place, could hear her belly smacks.

Common mistakes of fiction writers

1. Passive writing: If you don’t know what this means, chances are, you’re doing it.

Passive: Susie had mentioned that to me before.
Active: Susie mentioned that to me.

Passive: We started to walk to the store.
Active: We walked to the store.

Passive: I’d been contemplating this for awhile.
Active: I contemplated this for awhile.

Passive: There was a rainbow in the sky.
Active: A rainbow decorated the sky.

2. Either too long complex sentences or too many short ones. Long sentences go on and on and by the time the reader has gotten to the end, they have no idea what the hell you are talking about. Too many short sentences make the reader feel stilted. It’d be like reading in a strobe light—jarring.

3. Infamous telling as opposed to showing.

Telling: Tasha was confused and frustrated
Showing: Tasha fisted her hands against her sides as her brows drew together.

Telling: Bob’s head was cut off by Bobbette.
Showing: Sword swinging in an arc, the blade cut cleanly through the already bruised skin of her throat.

You tell me which one is more interesting?

4. Preaching. Pretty self explanatory but as a writer, you may not even know you are doing it.

Preaching: Justin watched as the teens tripped over their pants and blared loud rap music. What was it with kids today? Fashion was one thing, but pants that long, and showing boxer shorts? It just didn’t make any sense—common sense. And the music, ugh, the music. Didn’t old people have a hard enough time hearing without the music blowing out their eardrums?

Not Preaching: ................*crickets chirping*............


Yup that’s right, nothing. Cut out all preaching unless it is essential to your character. Chances are with fiction, you aren’t writing your thoughts about the world down in some philosophical manifesto that will change the world. You want everyone to know that kids with baggy pants are stupid? Make them trip over them. Music too loud? They are criminals and get caught because their music covered up the sirens wailing to come pick them up. It basically comes down to show, not telling again. Show us why these things are bad, or good, don’t just spout your opinion about it and expect the reader to swallow it. I wouldn’t.

5. And last but not least for now. Over use of the exclamation point. It tends to leave the reader feeling like whoever is saying or thinking stuff with !!!! after it is ditzy. Like, oh my god! Everything is so exciting, I can’t contain myself! Typically the exclamation point serves one purpose in fiction: when someone is yelling. Thoughts should not have ! Excited statements, unless screamed, should not have ! Show us the character is excited, don’t show us they’re dumb by making them seem like excited puppies about ready to pee on your floor. No one I know like a pissed on floor and chances are, your reader won’t either.

Til next time…

-ST

And now time for Keith Moon, is really IS excited by everything.

Character Profiles

Profiles of a few characters from the Sam series.














WHO are you?

I'm bringing back shorts

stories that is.

You won’t want to hear this, but we rarely do when the truth is concerned, do we? We put our proverbial fingers in our ears and scream “Lalala” at the top of our lungs. We focus on what the beautiful people are doing. We listen to the gossip, watch our TV shows, listen to our packaged music and try desperately to shut out what I’m trying to tell you. And what pray tell, is it that we are so afraid of? The answer is quite simple really—ourselves.

Mr. Rail is just like you and me. He has the same thoughts, the same everyday problems. Stress headaches form where his head meets his neck and heartburn relief always is elusive. He is Everyday Joe, your neighbor, your kid’s teacher or worse yet, their guidance counselor. He is exactly what we are—except he’s been pushed to his limit. He shows us what we are capable of when push comes to shove. However, instead of comforting us, our means of survival are frightening. The lengths Mr. Rail is willing to go to stay alive far exceeded anyone’s expectations—far exceeded anyone’s horror.

Has Mr. Rail done these things to save another—his children perhaps? A parent driven to the brink would certainly do anything…right? No, he is not saving his children, his wife, his mother, his countrymen or even a starving child in Africa for a few cents a day. No, Raymond is saving his own hide. Pure and simple—Mr. Raymond Rail is willing to do whatever it takes to keep his own life. Some call it instinct. I call it greed, conceit, sin.

I call it normal.

******************

Lame haha.

Movie Review: Borat

I am not a “politically correct” person. Do I go around flaunting that? No. It’s just too damn hard to keep up. I mean what do I call Islanders from let’s say Jamaica who are now Americans? They aren’t African Americans because they were never African. I can understand calling people that who immigrated here from Africa. But those who have been here for generations? Doesn’t make sense to me. I have no problem being called white, in fact at one point being called an Irish American would’ve been an insult, and not so long ago, German American would’ve been.

I know a white guy who was born in Ethiopia. Is he African American? Technically yes. What about all of the South African whites? Needlessly to say, the term is too broad. And these are just examples of one term—imagine all the thousands out there.

That being said, I don’t get sensitive over crude rumor. In fact, I can normally find myself laughing at it. If a joke is funny, it’s funny, period.

So… based on all that… what is my opinion on Borat?

I can honestly say it was one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen. Not only was it not funny, but it was insulting. Ahh yes, you think, all of the anti-Semitism in it. No, that’s not the problem. Sacha Baron Cohen, the actor playing Borat, is jewish. No, his stance on the stereotypical person from Kazakhstan was appalling.

I was looking forward to watching this movie very much. Having a degree in film, I like seeing its boundaries pushed. I like controversy. I like different. I like films that challenge the norm. I really wanted to like Borat, but I just found myself sick to my stomach over Cohen’s actions. How he played upon people, lured them into thinking he was something he wasn’t. Taking advantage of people’s hospitality—our country’s hospitality.

And my personal favorite… selective cutting. Cutting to applause at something he’s said when the people did not react that way. Putting scenes into a context that wasn’t there. It is like a lie. I know this was a mockumentary. But the only thing mocking here was the fact that he wasn’t who he said he was. Everyone else was themselves.

Sacha Baron Cohen is an irresponsible filmmaker, a conman if you will. He preys upon the weak, the susceptible. Then he mocks them nationally. He does this not only at our nation’s expense but at Kazakhstan’s as well. I am so happy he’s being sued—may he go broke over this film.

HOW to think, not WHAT to think

Today I want to talk about not only research, but knowledge. I’ve said quite a few times that I want to teach my children HOW to think, not WHAT to think. I believe that is also true of adults.

Many individuals believe that learning ends when school does. There aren’t a whole lot of people checking out text books at the library, but there are some. Most of us read for pleasure (hey I’m not knocking it, because that’s exactly what I do) watch TV, movies, listen to music… but how many of us actively seek out knowledge? Fewer than I’d like I’m sure.

For a “civilian” (and in this sense I use that term to refer to someone who isn’t a writer) this is standard M.O. For a writer however, we need to write about what we know, consequently that means we need to know A LOT.

So, where do you start? Do we just learn about everything possible? Well, that may be taking it a bit too far, but I don’t think knowledge ever hurt anyone, unless of course you are writing an intrigue and those who are in the know are getting bumped off with a quickness. I’d say a good place to start is with topics that interest you. For me it’s witchcraft, mythology, archaeology, psychology, Vikings, Motocross, swords, martial arts, wolves etc… So I look up those things. I’m not a big fan of nonfiction reading, boy do I wish I was. So instead, I try to find documentaries about these topics. Or motion pictures that deal with the subjects.

Blockbuster Online and Netflix are great places to start looking. For Vikings: I watch 13th warrior, Beowulf and Grendel. Witchcraft: the Craft, Practical Magic. Wolves? I read Call of the Wind, perhaps watch White fang, and find documentaries dealing with their group dynamics. Archaeology? I purchased a subscription to an Arch. Zine. Swords? I have a friend who is interested in them and has helped me with authenticity in my book. I also went to a SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) meeting and immersed myself in living history.

In home schooling we have something called Living Books. These books are used for teaching, but are not nonfiction. They are usually told like fiction, but have a great deal of historically accurate information in them. Nonfiction tends to be very dry—it’s like a rule or something. So why put yourself through that if you don’t have to? We are studying the Middle Ages this year, so I bought a book called “How would you survive in the Middle Ages.” Instead of a dry account of what life was like, it compares it to modern day and makes the child put themselves in the place of a peasant, a lord, a lady… submerging them in the culture, making it real for them, or alive—thus a living book.

When first trying to learn about a subject, I head for the children’s section. Not only are the books more colorful and entertaining, but they are also written for a novice. If I have no prior knowledge of something, why would I go to the adult section to get an adult book? I’d jut be torturing myself and not get anywhere. Whereas, if I start with a kid’s book, I lay a foundation of knowledge to build upon, instead of trying to build the second story on a foundation of muck.

Now, let’s say that I achieve a level of adult knowledge on a subject—where to go from there. How do I know what to learn about a subject? What is important?

Well it just so happens that I found an invaluable resource last night. Just so happens it’s FREE. MIT has most of the courses online for free. Granted, you won’t be getting a degree, but the reading lists, syllabi, lecture notes and assignments for classes are online. Check it out: http://ocw.mit.edu/index.html

Then we have my favorite resource of all time-the internet. I look up on average, a dozen things a day. I am a seeker of knowledge, I like knowing things. I love useless facts (which even if they seem useless I can typically entertain someone with my random facts, thus making their life richer by having me in it. HA!)

If you don't seek out knowledge, all you are left with is what you were taught in schools. If you went to public school, then you would be limiting yourself to knowledge that was boxed and stamped with approval. There isn't anything wrong with that, but the boxes are mass produced, why would you want to be just like everyone else? Why would you only want to have the knowledge that was approved? What about all the things that didn't get a Grade A Stamp? Do you know what they call teaching someone the information, and only in the information you want them to know?

Brainwashing.

This video is called Brainwash America: How to Brainwash a Nation. (It's just a video folks, not a political statement of mine)

Murphy's Law counterbalances my Irish Luck

I wanted to set up a pattern for my blogs.

Monday: Short story
Wednesday: Rant, random fact about me, recipe... basically Misc.
Friday: Something about writing, what I've learned, haven't learned, problems etc...

So on the first week I was going to try that and introduce it today, what happened? Well a short story didn't want to come to me that's what... freaking bastard. I should've known better than to try to schedule creativity.

I was writing something about a woman held captive in someone's basement. So I was going for suspense and terror here, but suspense and terror were elusive. Dry, boring, dull, cliche were in abundance however.

So I did something I normally don't do, looked for writing resources online. There is nothing wrong with this. I've done it a few times and it's helped. I try not to do it often and I only resort to that when I've already written something, not before. I try to get my creativity out, then try to fix it. So I came upon an article about writing suspense. And while it didn't help me with my short story, it made me think about Inevitable, book 1 and I see some improvements I could make. WOOHOO!

Everything happens for a reason.

Here's the article:
Michele Martinez on writing suspense

"What's my name b.." "Geez. Sandra Tuttle. Happy now?"

I woke up at 6 something this morning, groggy after only 4 hours of sleep. Laying there in a half awake stupor, I had a good idea for a blog today. Then I fell asleep and it went bye bye. I believe it had something to do with active and passive writing, as I commented on someone else's blog yesterday regarding that very same thing, but for the life of me I can't remember. Ugh! I'm sure whatever my idea was--it was groundbreaking, important, really entertaining stuff... so let's just pretend that's what this turns out to be.

Let's say, just for shits and giggles that I'm wildly successful come next summer when my 10 year high school class reunion is... I get whisked to the non existent stage and asked how I became so successful.

And here is my definition of success:

-Find something you love to do.
-Do it well.
-Pray that it's something you can make money at.

Then there's a clause. Find something that you'll love to do "forever" or at least a long time. For me, I like to do a lot of things. I like making movies, I like reading, quilting, listening to music, teaching, animals etc... But very few if any of those would I be able to do for a long time. I am a Jill of all trades, or I'd like to be. I like to know how to do something, and once I do, I move onto the next thing.

But for me, writing is different. I can picture myself doing this years from now, no small feat.

Was I born a writer? Hell no. To be honest, I always hated writing, but I've always had a very active imagination and always came up with stories. As far as the actual writing is concerned? Well I won a poetry contest in 3rd grade and had a poem published when I was a teenager... and that's the extent of my writing LOL *listens to all the oohs and ahhs of wonder*

I just never had the proper motivation to write my stories down. I am a fairly creative person, or at least someone who needs an outlet of the artistic variety. I've painted, drawn, sculpted, designed lighting for dramatic presentations, made movies, abstract video art, experimental installations, acted and now I'm writing.

In college, I'd spend my time in Script Writing class staring at a blank computer screen. Story Telling class on the other hand... a little spark started to ignite, surprising the hell out of everyone, especially myself. I normally tell my stories face to face, with sound effects and wild hand gestures--not to mention the facial expressions that really say it all. Come to find out, I was able to tell a pretty good story in first person, if it was from personal experience. Since I didn't want to make a movie about my life (I know that I'm not as interesting as I think I am) that still left me hanging with no scripts.

Then YEARS down the line, I started reading again. I didn't read for pleasure in college because frankly, I was too busy reading for torture. I starting reading YA books, because one of my sons is a big reader. He reads mostly fantasy. Then I started reading romance novels again. Then was introduced to paranormal fiction--and was blown away. That was the key that unlocked it all. I've always been fascinated in the occult, with witches, vampires--the dark things, but never reall thought about it much. But when I started to think about it...

Sandra Tuttle was born.